Chapter 5

Hoping that Rob still had the same one, Terry dials the number.

"Speak" the deep raspy voice commanded

"Rob its Tel, long time no speak"

"Hello matey, bloody hell must be five years. What can I do you for?" Rob smiles cheerily

"Got some work coming up and need a space filled, you interested?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

"No details over the phone. Will explain when we meet"

"Time and place?"

"Nice, Sunday 7pm Curzon Club don't be late"

Hanging up Terry deletes the call history, scrolls through to find the number for Nan Doll, and presses dial.

Nan Doll was the number for Dan, all the crew were under their nans names. They all had untraceable pay as you go phones for work and were not registered, but it only takes one phone to be taken as evidence to give the cops a log as long as your arm of members. Therefore, a number stating Nan had a good chance of being over looked.

"Dan, Robs gonna take the position" Terry states with a matter of fact tone

"I will get some background info on him too and let you know"

"Cheers see you Sunday"

A few phone calls and more than a few pints later, Terry had compiled quite a dossier on Rob.

No way was he going to have his balls chopped because he brought someone in without doing the homework first.

The last bloke that was found to be, let's say, a little more light fingered with the payday than was allowed, saw him come face to face with Dan's helpers. Nothing concrete ever came out about what happened, but the word on the street was not one that Terry would relish in having done to him.

Apparently, so sources say, if you go along to the riverside at Tilbury. Somewhere in the vast mud flats, you will find a body minus fingers, toes, tongue and teeth and for good measure a pair of bollocks.

The tongue was cut out first so the screams and shouts were muffled. The fingers were next. This was to remind him that he could not keep his hands out of where they should not have been. Next went the toes, this was purely so identification would be as hard as possible if he were ever found. Then it was the teeth pulling, one by one, root and all. Again, for identification, no dental records could help.

Once that was over and done with then down came the trousers. The bollocks were cut, from arse to shaft and stuffed in his mouth. Left for a while, he bled to death slowly and in agony.

Finally being tossed into the boot of the car, driven to and dropped into the mud flats. These are a favourite place to get rid of unwanted trash. When it hits the mud, it spatters up and lets out a great squelch. Then it is swallowed up and out of sight in seconds. Like a miser keeping hold of his treasure for a lifetime, the more it struggles the more tighter the grip.

Whether it was true, or just something to put the frighteners on people, will never be known. Dan was a criminal and a good one, but he was never brutal. Wondering whether Dan even knew what happens to these people, or were the words, take care of it translated by their own minds as to what he wanted them to do. Either way Terry was not going to take the chance.