on to the street and beat you senseless. Or maybe we could pick up one of your pretty little daughters.’
The shopkeeper scowled at Wheels as he clutched his agonised knuckles to his chest.
‘How much is in the till?’ Wheels asked.
‘I can give you two hundred,’ the shopkeeper said reluctantly, as he pressed the button to open the cash drawer under the register.
James noticed a sudden change in the light as the door from the stock room burst open. The shopkeeper’s daughter charged out, brandishing a cricket bat.
‘Don’t give in to ’em, Dad,’ the teenager cried, as she swung at Wheels’ head.
The blow missed Wheels’ skull, but cracked viciously on the elbow he raised to defend himself. He screamed in pain as his cosh clattered to the ground.
James was impressed by the girl’s courage, but he had to stick by Wheels if he was going to win Sasha Thompson’s trust. He grabbed the girl under her armpit and snatched the bat out of her hands as he dragged her over a counter top covered in newspapers.
‘Smash that bitch’s skull,’ Wheels ordered.
But there was no way James was going to do that. He threw the bat down and twisted the girl’s arm up behind her back, then glowered at the shopkeeper.
‘Put the paper money out of that cash drawer into a bag or I’ll break her arm.’
The shopkeeper gritted his teeth as he ripped a carrier bag from a hook and began stuffing it with notes. James was too tense to count, but it looked close to the three-seventy-five they’d come looking for.
James snatched the bag, shoved the girl back across the counter and looked at Wheels. ‘You OK?’
‘Do I look OK, you dick?’ Wheels snapped, as he grasped his elbow. ‘I can barely move my arm. There’s no way I can drive.’
‘You’d better give us the keys then,’ James said, as he took the bolt off the door and stepped out into the street.
Unfortunately, the old dear Wheels brushed off had gone into the launderette next door and told everyone who’d listen that the supermarket was being robbed. A nervous crowd gathered in the launderette doorway. Someone must have called the cops and a couple of people looked as if they were thinking about wading in. Meanwhile, Wheels still had the car keys.
‘For god’s sake,’ James yelled, watching in horror as Wheels struggled to pull the keys out of his jeans with a dead arm.
James pushed Wheels’ hand aside and grabbed the keys himself, then pressed the button to unlock the doors and walked into the road to take the driver’s seat.
Wheels couldn’t do anything fast because of his arm. By the time he was in the passenger seat, James had the engine running and the clutch poised. Once the passenger door slammed he took a quick look behind before pulling out and working quickly through the gearbox.
‘You drive well,’ Wheels said admiringly, pulling down his hood as James squealed around a corner.
‘I try my best,’ James grinned.
But once he’d got over James’ proficiency, Wheels turned angry. ‘This is such shit,’ he moaned. ‘My elbow’s in agony, I’m gonna have to ditch this car and Sasha’s gonna go mental when he hears that half the street watched us leave. Why didn’t you lock the shop door?’
James knew he should have locked the door, but he didn’t appreciate Wheels trying to lay all the blame on him. ‘It was my first time,’ he said bitterly. ‘If you wanted something done you should have told me.’
‘Christ,’ Wheels screamed, as he kicked down hard in the footwell. ‘That shopkeeper’s gonna pay for this.’
*
For every rich and clever criminal like Sasha Thompson, there are armies of poor, stupid criminals like Aaron Reid. Not only had Sasha arranged for the Runts to rob Major Dee’s cocaine store, he’d also set up some of his associates to buy the cocaine off them at rock-bottom prices.
Aaron was twenty-two and his role in the murder of Owen Campbell-Moore might land him with a life sentence if someone talked; but all it had earned him was three nights in hospital, twenty hours in a police cell and a four-hundred-pound share from selling the cocaine. He would have earned more if he’d spent the last two weeks stacking shelves in a supermarket.
But with his card marked by the Slasher Boys, Aaron couldn’t ply his usual trade selling ecstasy and marijuana in pubs and he’d been forced into a straight job. He could have got work in a burger joint or the