Chapter 3

"Listen up," Emma said as she passed a bottle of beer to Jamie, who gave a dramatic sound of appreciation and then looked at the small table in her flat. "This guy is Jaroslav Doszak, not a very nice Ukrainian living up in a big house in Warrington."

Jamie looked at a photo of a man and another of a house, cut out from a newspaper article and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Now he went on trial for sex trafficking and got off; those are from his trial last year. Word is, is that he runs the cocaine around Cheshire, brothels in Liverpool. He also runs a double glazing company from his house, and I reckon he channels his cash through that so it looks legit."

"Sweet."

"Quite. Now he has three main passions. One is violence, the other is money. And the last one is trading in erotic art."

Jamie shrugged. "Weird."

"Yes. He has bought loads of art of naked women at auction and there was some war in Argentina and Paraguay ages ago, and three figurines of naked ladies about this high..." Emma brought her hands up about four inches apart and then continued, " ... were made of gold. They were squirrelled out of the country and have been in a private collection but our friend, Jaroslav, bought them at auction five years ago. They are going back to auction next month."

"OK. How much?"

"He bought them for three hundred grand." Jamie whistled. "Well they are of some General's daughters and the Argentines, they want them back."

"So why don't they just buy them?"

"Bidding could reach seven fifty, maybe even a million. There is a cheaper way."

Jamie looked at Emma. "You?"

Emma smiled. "Yes, I know they are wanted and know they will be bought off us in Argentina. We just need to get 'em there."

"Why's he selling 'em?" Jamie asked and Emma smiled.

"'Cause there has been some interest in them. He knows he will get a good price and one of his passions is money. If you could treble your cash in five years, you'd take it, right?"

Jamie nodded and looked at her. "So what do we know about breaking into stately homes?"

Emma glowered at him and glanced over at the pictures on the table. "I don't know, what do we know about raiding stately homes? I can't think," she taunted.

Jamie sighed and held his hands out in an aggressive pose. "So you and ya gang?"

"My gang got picked up two weeks ago. They did over a footballer while he was kicking balls abroad. I fuckin' told them not to but they just went ahead and did it, so I ain't got a gang no more. They busted 'cos they dain't think."

"Oh," he muttered. "So this is getting us back togetha then?"

Emma took a deep breath. "For one time only. We do this, we should clear fifty, seventy grand each. Maybe a ton. And then it is debt repaid."

"Right. OK. So what's this got to do with me bruva?"

Emma gave a grin. "He is working at the double glazing company on reception. He can give us all the information we need. Inside info and the like. I applied for a job up there to get a look but I got nowhere."

"Yeah right," he said, getting up. "Oli won't give us jack. We ain't doing it if we need Oli."

Emma took a deep breath and pointed aggressively at her ex-lover. "OK. You go back to nicking CDs and DVDs off Woolworths or raiding Post Offices or whatever you think you can get away with, because this is a big job and it ain't going to be easy but I've done a couple of big houses in the last few months and I got a few contacts. I ain't raiding houses every month for a few grand for the rest of me life 'cause one day me luck's gonna run out. So I wanna do a couple of big jobs and this is a big job. Serious notes going on here." Jamie went to speak but Emma snorted. "And if we do this then we clear a few notes and it a shite-site easier than fucking with Benefits Office, ya get me?"

Jamie nodded. "Oli will give us fuck all," Jamie told him and Emma put her head in her hands and ran them through her hair. "We do it but we need to do it without Oli."

"Just ask," she told him. "If he says no when we ask then I got an MP's house as a backup. Few watercolours at taxpayer's expense."

"It can be done," the old man said peering out from behind his spectacles and turning the object in his hand. "But it will not be cheap."

"I know," Jaroslav said, his thick set eyes boring into the grey-haired man inspecting the three statues. "How much and how long?"

The man grunted and inspected them again. "This detail here, it takes time. I have three men," he said and clicked his fingers behind him. "Three men, and they work day and night for weeks to do this." Jaroslav looked at Mikael, his favoured henchman, and then at the forger setting them on the table in front of him with his gloved hands. "And who does it have to fool?"

Mikael sniffed and Jaroslav flicked his head towards him with a scowl. "Everyone, maybe."

"So that take long time," the forger announced. "You want it in Gold?"

Jaroslav shook his head and the man licked his lips. "So I get weight right but different metals and alloys. He picked up his pen and jotted some details down as Jaroslav clicked his fingers and Mikael passed him a bundle of English banknotes.

"Three more," Jaroslav said. "One when we get it and two when the fakes 'ave sold."

The forger looked at Jaroslav holding out the bundle of banknotes and sighed. "How long?"

"Two weeks," Jaroslav announced and the forger rubbed his nose, shaking his head.

"It can't be done." Jaroslav scowled and glared at the man, rubbing his hands together. "Can't be done," he asked and then glanced at Mikael, slightly taller than him but at least ten years younger. The henchman looked menacing in his long trenchcoat and Jaroslav gave a nod of the head causing Mikael to crack his knuckles.

The Italian forger simpered, his frail body nervous and his hands shaking. "It too soon. For four weeks, I do. Maybe three, but two Mr Doszak, it take a long time to do this to a good standard. It take long time."

Mikael moved past Jaroslav and pushed the forger back into his chair. He stood behind him, pushing down on his shoulders and the forger squealed.

"I ask again," Jaroslav said in a firm voice. "Two weeks."

"Two weeks it tough. But I try." Mikael squeezed the shoulders and he cried out in pain. "OK Mr Doszak, I do, I do."

Mikael let go and Jaroslav nodded towards him with a smile. "Perfect. I send boys 'round next Monday," he told him accentuating his Ukrainian accent. He waited for Mikael to open the door to the studio for him. "And when they come, put them in vault. I want auction people to see in vault. It helps."

"Yes, boss," Mikael said robotically and held open the door to the car.

"It's disgraceful," the forger cried, the moment the two men left. "I am 63 and they treat me like that," he said to his partner. "It never should have happened. He has no respect. It disgusting."

The young man nodded and the forger pulled out his tape measure; he was not going to see his wife, children and grandchildren for days, he just knew it but if he failed Mr Doszak he would never see them again.

"I'll order a pizza for us," his young apprentice said. "We ain't getting any tea are we?"

Oliver glared at his brother. "Are you off your soddin' trolley? You promised Mum that you would go straight, Jamie."

Jamie scowled and spoke in a lower voice. "I will. After this one. Dis perfect. Look listen man."

"No," Oliver said firmly and gestured with his hands as he spoke. "No. You've already said. You want to steal some priceless statues from some mad Ukrainian gangster, my employer no less, and you want me to help you. Me? You've gone stir crazy. Have you heard what he does to people who cross him?"

Emma swung her legs over the side of the desk chair and knocked over the pencils on a desk holder with her thighs. "Yah shouldn't believe all the rumours, Oli."

"Yes, but I do believe these ones. Most people have rewards for information leading to the capture or arrest of someone they don't like, he has rewards leading the removal of their internal organs. I am very fond of my organs. Why can't you just go back to nicking from sub post offices if you want to get banged up? At least Postman Pat doesn't extract pieces of you for retribution. Or payment of old debts."

"'Cos they've closed 'em all," Emma said wistfully and then gave a coy smile. "No one thinks of armed robbers when they are closing down post offices, do they? It's politicians banging on about old people this, and postman that, poor Jamie and I don't get a fookin' thought."

"Right well, no offence, but I don't want anything to do with this hare-brained scheme. And when you are arrested, as you will be, don't mention my name 'cos I quite like it up at the Manor. It's good money and easy work."

Jamie sneered. "The Manor, eh? Anyway, with the right stuff from you on the inside, I ain't gonna be nicked."

Oliver took a deep breath. "You said you only did one post office but you got caught. Your record is pretty shit, Jamie. Every time you did something you were arrested for it."

"Ah well. Was sixteen wasn't I?" Jamie asked rhetorically and gave a grin at his twin brother. "And yah baund ta make a few cock-ups when ya young, ain't ya? But I've been inside for six years now, and I got me-self an education. From the pros like."

"Six years. Do you want to do that again?" Oliver looked at his brother's ex-girlfriend swinging her legs and glanced up at her. "And you trust this guy not to get you arrested?"

Emma gave a grin. "I ain't ever been to court. I trust me-self not get me-self nicked. Which is why we need ya, Oli. Cos the other job we got lined up we ain't gonna get any inside info so we bound to get collared."

Oliver gave a groan and Jamie patted him on the back. "Hey, just a few things and then we'll be out of ya hair. And I won't tell no-one where we gets our intel from. Promise."