Maura's Game by Martina Cole Read Free Book Online Page B

preferred to see it as inherent cunning. His nickname was “Coco’ on account of the fact that he was the number one coke king of the East London club scene. He had been recruited by Benny Ryan a year earlier and they split the profits sixty-forty and drank together on a regular basis. Consequently when Abul had asked him to a meet with Benny he had assumed it was for the usual friendly chat and a beer. To be taken to a deserted barn in Ramsden Bellhouse did make him feel a little bit nervous.
    When he was dragged from the car by Benny, Coco knew for sure he was in deep shit and as he was stoned out of his skull it was even more frightening than if he had been straight.
    “What the fuck is eating you, Benny?”
    His voice was high and the affected Rasta talk long gone. He sounded pure BBC news reader and this incensed Benny more than ever. He began kicking and punching his friend on the dirt outside the barn. Abul dragged Benny away.
    “Wait till we get him inside, we can be seen from the road.”
    Breathing heavily, Benny watched as Abul picked up a protesting Coco and dragged him into the barn.
    Inside were two tables. One had a hamper on it. The other had the tools of Benny’s trade, including the fabled glue and an electric cattle prod. One glance told Coco all he needed to know. Halogen lights lit the place up like a film set.
    “What’s wrong, Benny? What on earth is this all about?”
    Coco’s voice was trembling with fear.
    Abul could see the confusion in his eyes but couldn’t help him. As Coco looked at him in anguish, he held out his hands in a helpless gesture. He was telling him he was on his own. For all they were mates, Abul was with Benny now and that was permanent. Coco understood that even in his panic and fear.
    Benny stood before him, his face closed and eyes hard. The deep blue of them that Coco had always envied looked almost luminous with anger.
    “What do you know about Vic Joliff?”
    Coco swallowed; his throat had gone dry.
    “I don’t know anything about him, Benny. I know he’s heavy, that’s about it.”
    Benny walked around the barn, shaking his head as if unable to believe what he was hearing. As if he knew he was being lied to and found it shocking and yet strangely amusing. He gave a little laugh before he spoke, his voice incredulous now.
    “Excuse me? Are you trying to fucking mug me off?”
    Benny looked at Abul, all innocence and hurt.
    “Have I got “Cunt” written on my forehead or what?” He pointed to it dramatically and Abul stifled the urge to laugh. In this mood Benny Ryan was better than a play.
    Coco, in contrast, felt the urge to cry. He had heard about Benny’s temper, who hadn’t? But this was the first time the famous anger had been directed at him personally.
    Abul didn’t answer, he knew he wasn’t expected to say anything. He was straight man to Benny’s favourite tactics while interrogating.
    “Are you going to answer me?”
    Coco was nearly crying now. He could feel the loosening of his bowels as he knelt before his persecutor.
    “Please, Benny. I swear to you…”
    The kick to his face was punishing and thankfully it knocked him spark out. Abul took the man’s pulse.
    “He’ll be out for a while, Ben. Shall I make a cup pa
    Benny nodded.
    “I’m starving. Open the sandwiches and all, we’ll have a picnic, eh?”
    Abul opened the hamper. He had made sure that all Benny’s requirements were met. Hot sweet tea in a Thermos, and plenty of wholesome food and fresh fruit. While he arranged the food on plates Benny cut them both a large line of cocaine. Abul felt his heart sink. Once that kicked in, Benny would go even more over the top than usual.
    “I don’t think he knows anything, Ben, do you?”
    Benny shrugged his giant shoulders and sipped at his mug of tea. He took a large bite from a Marks and Spencer sandwich before answering, his mouth full of food and his voice muffled.
    “This is lovely, what is it?”
    “Chicken tikka and