Meltdown by Andy McNab Read Free Book Online

Danny quickly turned
back, his face aflame with embarrassment.
    'I don't think it's me or your grandfather they're
smiling at,' said Dudley to Danny. 'They seem to
find you . . . interesting and attractive. Perhaps you
are – I have no idea about these things – but you'd
better make yourself interesting and attractive to
this Storm.'
    Fergus saw Danny suddenly look anxious. He
laughed. 'Don't worry Danny, you've got the better
half of the job. While you're chatting up Storm, I'll
be making the acquaintance of Mr Siddie Richards.'

8
    There was nothing, absolutely nothing, good about
Siddie Richards. He was evil. And proud of it.
    Siddie had spent much of the first twenty years
of his adult life behind bars, mainly for crimes of
extreme violence. But he'd never served time for the
most serious crimes he'd committed, because Siddie
had literally 'got away with murder'. More than
once.
    When Siddie reached the age of forty, he finally
got wise and decided, reluctantly, to let others carry
out the acts of violence for which he was famed and
feared. Five years on and Siddie ran one of
Manchester's biggest criminal gangs. There was
very little that was illegal and lucrative that Siddie
wasn't involved in. Gambling, extortion, prostitution,
drugs – they were all separate arms of the
Siddie Richards business empire.
    Siddie was vain and arrogant. He never tired of
watching the Godfather movies over and over again.
He knew every character, every scene and virtually
every line, and would quote them endlessly to his
minions and to his long-suffering wife, Dawn.
    And like his screen hero, Don Corleone, he
believed in the old maxim of 'honour among
thieves'. It meant that he operated by a simple rule:
when he went into business with another criminal,
he would never do the dirty on his new partner; not
unless they did the dirty on him. If they did, his
vengeance was swift, merciless and final. So it
didn't happen. Ever.
    Fergus had made the appointment to meet the
gang boss after a couple of drinking sessions with
one of Siddie's henchmen in a pub in the Moss Side
area of Manchester. It had been relatively easy. All
Fergus had needed to do was make the gangster
believe it was possible that he knew the way into
the Meltdown drug set-up.
    Going by his old alias of 'Frank Wilson', Fergus
told his gangland contact that he knew the makers
of the drug, who were ripe for a takeover. All it
would need was muscle and organization.
    The response came back quickly: Siddie was prepared
to meet and talk with 'Frank Wilson'.
    The following day Fergus took a taxi out to
Cheadle; like the twins, Siddie preferred to conduct
his business meetings in the comfort of his home.
    The house was worth well over a million; it was
located in an area favoured by top footballers and
celebrities based in the north-west. Fergus got his
taxi driver to drop him off close to the house and
then walked the last few hundred metres.
    A high wall and an elaborately decorated pair of
tall wrought-iron gates protected the property.
Fergus pressed the button beneath the voice intercom
connected to the house.
    The voice that answered through the tinny
speaker was surprisingly high-pitched and thin.
'Yes?'
    'It's Frank Wilson.'
    There was a low clunk as the mechanism was set
in motion, then the two heavy gates began to glide
open noiselessly.
    Fergus walked through and up the drive, past
well-kept lawns with large statues of Greek gods
and goddesses. The house was mostly mock-Tudor,
with thick black beams and heavily leaded
windows, but a few other styles appeared to have
been thrown in for good measure.
    The wide front door of heavy oak stood under a
canopy supported by marble columns. As Fergus
reached for the large black knocker, the door swung
open on huge hinges and he got his first close-up
view of Siddie Richards.
    He wasn't a pretty sight; he reminded Fergus of a
pit-bull, but he was considerably less attractive. Not
particularly tall – five nine or ten – broad