The Good Life by Martina Cole Read Free Book Online

there was no denying Jenny Riley had got under his skin, and he couldn’t envisage his life without her. The die was cast.

Chapter Eighteen
    Once Jamie Jones decided on something he saw it through to the bitter end and, right now, he was a man on a mission.
    This was his first foray into the world of clubs, and with it came the necessary introduction into the drugs trade. It was a lucrative business and it needed to be controlled properly on the premises. That meant bouncers who were alert to unauthorised dealers getting in on the game, and making sure the dealers you did use were only providing the drugs you provided for them. It was a fraught business, but very lucrative. He knew he would need a good team, and he was hand picking the men himself. With Cain Moran’s OK, of course.
    He liked Moran, and his funny sidekick Johnny Mac. Best friends since they were kids, they were more like brothers, even though Johnny Mac was black. His huge Afro made him look amiable but it was a mistake to underestimate him. He was wiry, but he was a strong little fucker and there was a hard streak that ran through him; anyone who didn’t see that was a fool. For all his smiling and clowning around, his eyes were everywhere and he missed nothing.
    There were rumours that he swung both ways − boys and girls. But that was just speculation, and not anyone’s business except his. What he did in the comfort and safety of his own home was his affair. Still Jamie knew that in their circles that could be perceived as a weakness. Too feminine a trait for the men around him. Most of the people in their world were there because they were overtly masculine − it was what made them so feared. Personally he couldn’t give a flying fuck what people did in their private lives; Christ knew, everyone had their secrets, him included.
    Now that ponce Richie was off the scene they could settle down and start making some money. The first step was to persuade Micky Platt to take over the drug operations for him, leaving Jamie free to sort out everything else. The hardest job was going to be convincing people to part with their premises, or take them in as partners. Cain Moran was confident that everyone would see the sense in doing what he called the right thing, but Jamie wasn’t so sure. Asking people to give them an in, or take their businesses outright, wasn’t going to be easy, and it would need tact, diplomacy and, in extreme cases, a sawn-off shotgun.
    But it could be done and, once it was over, Cain Moran would be the number one and that was ultimately what this was all about. Control the pavements, the clubs and the drugs, and you controlled your world. It was as simple as that.
    Taking over from competitors wasn’t unusual; it happened all the time from taxi ranks to burger stalls. It was about having the monopoly − if they had the main clubs under their guidance it would be like printing their own money. This new generation wasn’t like their forebears. They wanted a night out, they wanted to spend money and they wanted the best DJs and the best bands. And, of course, the best recreational drugs.
    On the plus side it meant no heroin or opiates would be in the mix. They were street drugs and not for the youngsters who were looking for a good time. They wanted amphetamines and grass, either green or on the block, Afghan Black, Lebanese gold. And, of course, LSD for the real ravers.
    No, this was going to be a real cull. In one fell swoop they would be controlling everything in London and the surrounding areas. Southend alone was worth millions, that went without saying. It was a clubbers’ paradise for the kids of Essex and they were nearest to the docks so always had the first refusal of the drugs brought in. They were used to the best and knew a rip-off when they saw it. Speed, especially, had been cut more times than a samurai soldier by the time it hit the London clubs.
    Tonight they were having their first meet with Micky Platt, known as