Penalties, page 1
PENALTIES
By Stephen Leather
IF YOUR TEAM
WINS, YOUR
FAMILY DIES.
THE BEAUTIFUL
GAME HAS JUST
TURNED UGLY
Copyright © Stephen Leather 2016
The right of Stephen Leather to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
CHAPTER 100
CHAPTER 101
CHAPTER 102
CHAPTER 103
CHAPTER 104
CHAPTER 105
CHAPTER 106
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO BY STEPHEN LEATHER
CHAPTER 1
Sammy Wu downed his whisky, slammed the empty glass onto the bar and gestured at the barman for a refill. There were four large screens at the far end of the bar, each showing a different football match. Wu was only interested in one of the games. Arsenal at home to Chelsea. Two days earlier Wu’s grandfather had come to him in a dream and told him that Chelsea would win 3-1. Wu had placed a bet on the game to the tune of ten thousand pounds, ten thousand pounds that he didn’t have. There were five minutes to go and considering that Arsenal were ahead 2-0 it was clear that Wu’s grandfather had been full of shit.
The barman refilled Wu’s glass. Wu downed it in one. ‘Another,’ he grunted, in Cantonese.
The barman looked over Wu’s shoulder. Wu knew that the barman was checking with the owner of the bar if a refill was in order. ‘Just pour the fucking drink,’ said Wu. ‘My fucking money’s as good as anyone else’s.’ The barman poured the drink. Wu grabbed the glass and swivelled around on his stool. CK Lee was sitting in the far corner of the bar at his usual table. He was in his sixties but still as hard as iron, as bald as a billiard ball, his eyebrows the faintest of lines and his hands liver-spotted with nails like talons. He was staring impassively at Wu. Wu raised his glass. ‘Yámbūi!” he shouted. Cheers. He drank and showed the empty glass to Lee. Lee continued to stare at Wu as he waggled the glass.
There were two other men sitting at Lee’s table. Wu didn’t know their names but he knew their role. Enforcers. CK Lee was a hard bastard but his enforcers were harder. They were big men wearing matching black leather jackets and blue jeans. One had large silver rings on each of the fingers of his right hand, a makeshift knuckleduster. Wu turned around and banged the glass on the bar. The barman refilled it. He was a big man, almost as big as Lee’s enforcers. He was wearing a black leather vest that revealed heavyset tattooed arms. A dragon. A tiger. Skulls. A dagger. ‘What’s your name?’ asked Wu.
‘Wang Gang.’
‘A good name,’ said Wu. It meant strong. ‘Let me give you some advice, Wang Gang. If you have a deceased grandfather, and if he comes to you in a dream and tells you the score of a big game, you tell him to go fuck himself.’ He raised his glass. ‘They know fuck all, the dead.’ He drained his glass.
There was a loud roar from the screen showing the Arsenal game. Wu turned to look at it. Arsenal were 3-0 ahead and Wu was in deep, deep shit. He didn’t have ten thousand pounds. He’d made the bet because he was already in the hole to Lee to the tune of seven grand. So now he owed seventeen grand. Seventeen fucking grand.
‘I need the bathroom,’ said Wu.
‘Help yourself,’ said Wang Gang.
Wu slid off his stool and walked unsteadily towards the men’s room, studiously avoiding Lee’s gaze. He pushed open the door. The bathroom stank of piss and shit. There was a single stall to the left and by the look of it it’d been used by a Mainlander because the wooden seat was up and there were dirty footprints on the porcelain. Mainlanders never got used to sitting while they shat and always squatted. Most of the staff at Lee’s places were brought in from China, usually smuggled in the back of trucks coming in from the continent. They paid for their passage and worked off the debt by toiling in Lee’s restaurants, bars and cheap hotels, often for years. Lee had his fingers in a lot of pies.
The urinals were to the right of the door. At the far end of the room was a small window, at head height. Wu went over and put his head on one side as he stared at it. He could probably get through, if he breathed in. He took off one of his shoes and used the heel to smash the glass. It shattered on the first blow and glass tinkled onto the tiled floor. He smashed away at the remaining glass. He was clearing the final shards when the door behind him slammed open. Wu whirled around, the shoe in his hand. It was another one of Lee’s enforcers. This one Wu did know. Teddy Kang. Kang was a hard man from Shenzhen, brought up on the docks where he’d broken heads and limbs for money before Lee had noticed him and brought him over to London. He had two tattoos on his left hand, a scorpion and the Chinese character for seven, rumoured to be his lucky number, and also rumoured to be the number of people he’d killed in China.
Kang snarled and moved towards Wu. Wu ducked right and left and then threw his shoe at Kang’s face before bolting past him. The shoe smacked into Kang’s nose and by the time he’d recovered Wu was already out of the door, running at full pelt.
He crashed into a table, pushed himself off and staggered towards the door, only half aware of Lee staring at him open-mouthed. The two enforcers sat with their hands on the table, and by the time they had reacted he had reached the door and flung it open. There were stairs leading up and down but there were two men in cheap suits heading up so Wu had no choice. He slammed the door behind him and ran up the stairs to the next floor. There was another door there. It was open and a man was coming out. Wu pushed past him. There was a long corridor lit with red bulbs and doors leading off either side. At the far end was a large room, also bathed in a red light. Wu ran towards it, his arms pumping at his side. There were three sofas in the room and half a dozen Asian girls in various states of undress sprawled over them. Wu smelled marijuana and it was clear from the blank looks on their faces that they were off their heads.
Wu came to an abrupt halt as a big man in a dark suit came out of the kitchen at the side of the main room. Another of Lee’s enforcers. This one was holding a large knife and had murder in his eyes. Wu turned and ran for the door. A girl with waist-length black hair wearing a long white silk robe that was open at the front had stood up and was reaching for him but he shoved her away and hurtled through the door.
He ran down the corridor but he was less than half way when the door at the stairs was flung open and Teddy Kang was there, holding a machete. Wu swore and grabbed at the handle of the door to his left. He thrust the door open, dashed inside and slammed it shut. There was a middle-aged Chinese man on a double bed with two naked girls, Asians but with dyed blonde hair. One had two ornate Japanese fish tattooed across her back and they writhed as she rode up and down on the man. The other was bent over the man, kissing his chest as she massaged the other girl’s ample breasts.
The man’s eyes widened as he stared up at Wu, but the girls carried on, either they were seasoned professionals or like the girls in the main room they were drugged out of their brains. There were red curtains over the window and Wu jumped onto the bed and ripped them open. Light flooded in but there were bars across the glass. He jumped down off the bed and pushed open a door that led to a small shower room. It was windowless.
Wu groaned and turned around. Teddy Kang was standing there, the machete held high, a grin of triumph on his face. Wu threw up his hands to protect himself but he was too slow, Kang upended the machete and brought the handle crashing down against Wu’s temple. He fell to the floor without a sound.
CHAPTER 2
When Wu woke up it was with a throbbing head and the taste of vomit in his mouth. He cleared his throat and spat, then blinked his eyes as he tried to focus. The first thing he realised was that he was tied to a chair. The second thing he realised was that Teddy Kang was standing in front of him, holding a hammer. Wu looked around, He was in a warehouse. There were cardboard boxes all around him, labelled in Chinese. There were boxes of canned food, detergent and toilet rolls. There was a pallet of cans of cooking oil and another pallet of floor cleaner. There were no windows and the fluorescent lights overhead made his eyes water. He blinked away tears.
CK Lee walked from behind a stack of boxes. He was wearing a long brown overcoat that almost reached down to his ankles. ‘You think you can run away from your debts, Sammy Wu? Is that what you think.’ He ran a hand over his bald head and down to the back of his neck. He stood staring at Wu as he massaged the neck muscles as if trying to ward off a headache.
‘I’m sorry,’ muttered Wu, blinking as he tried to focus his tear-filled eyes.
‘No one runs away from me,’ said Lee. ‘If one man runs away and isn’t punished, then everyone will think they can run. Where would I be then, if everyone ran away from their debts?’ He took the hammer from Kang and swung it to and fro.
‘I’m sorry,’ repeated Wu.
Two more heavies walked into view. They were the ones he had seen sitting with Lee in the gambling joint. The heavy with the ringed fingers cracked his knuckles one by one as he stared menacingly at Wu.
Lee grimaced as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. ‘You’re not sorry, Sammy. But you will be.’ He brought the hammer up and slammed it down onto Wu’s left knee. The kneecap cracked with the sound of breaking glass and Wu screamed in pain. ‘That’ll stop you from running again,’ said Lee. He gave the hammer to Teddy Kang and Kang gave him a pair of industrial wire cutters.
Lee waited patiently for Wu’s cries to subside.
‘Please, I’m sorry,’ sobbed Wu eventually. ‘I am so, so sorry.’
‘I think you are,’ said Lee. ‘Because you’re in pain. You see, Sammy, you should have thought about the pain before you tried to run away from your debt. You should have spoken to me man to man. We could have come to an arrangement.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Wu again, and this time Lee brushed the apology away with an impatient wave. ‘You need to stop saying that, Sammy. It’s too late for sorry. The time for sorry was when you knew you couldn’t pay. That was when you should have apologised. But what did you do? You ran. And you threw a shoe at Teddy. You hit him in the face. With a shoe. You know what they’re calling him now? Shoe-face. Shoe-face Kang. You think that’s funny, ridiculing a man like that?’
‘I was just trying to get away,’ said Wu. ‘I made a mistake.’
‘You made a huge mistake, Sammy. And saying sorry isn’t going to make it right.’ He sighed, then took a step towards Wu. Wu flinched, then turned away, his eyes tightly closed.
‘So my question to you, Sammy, is can you pay me what you owe?’
‘Yes,’ said Wu opening his eyes. He nodded enthusiastically. ‘I can. I will. I’ll get you your money, I swear on my mother’s life.’
Lee sighed and shook his head. ‘Now why would you say something like that? You think I hurt mothers, do you? You think what, that if you don’t pay me back I’ll take it out on your mother? Is that what you think of me?’
‘No,’ said Wu hurriedly. ‘I was just promising, that’s all. I will pay you back everything I owe you. I swear.’
Lee smiled. ‘That’s good to hear, Sammy. That’s good to know.’ He walked slowly behind Wu and cut the ties that were binding his wrists.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ said Wu. He rubbed his hands, trying to get the circulation going again as Lee walked back around to stand in front of him again. Wu put his palms together and bowed. ‘Thank you.’
‘When will you pay me back, Sammy?’
‘As soon as I can, I swear on my…’ He swallowed back what he was about to say. ‘Very soon,’ he said.
Lee nodded thoughtfully. ‘And how much do you owe me?’
‘Seventeen thousand pounds,’ said Wu. His voice was shaking now. He didn’t have seventeen thousand pounds. He didn’t have one thousand to his name. The only way he could get the money would be to borrow it from someone else.
‘Plus interest, of course.’
Wu nodded. ‘Yes. Interest.’
‘Normally I would charge you one thousand seven hundred pounds a week interest,’ said Lee.
‘A week?’ repeated Wu.
‘A week. But in your case, I’m going to make an exception.’
Wu’s eyes widened. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you so much.’
Lee held up the wire-cutters. ‘One week, one finger,’ he said.
Wu’s stomach lurched. ‘I’ll get the money, I swear,’ he stammered.
‘Good,’ said Lee. ‘That’s what I want to hear. But the interest payments start today.’ He clicked the cutters. ‘For the first payment, I’m going to let you choose the finger.’
‘Oh Mr Lee, please, no…’ Wu was shaking now and his stomach felt as if it had turned to liquid.
‘People have to know what happens to those who do not pay their debts to me.’
Tears were streaming down Wu’s face and they were nothing to do with the fluorescent lights. ‘Please no…’
‘You’re right handed so I’d recommend the small finger on the left,’ said Lee. ‘But it’s your call.’
‘Please, Mr Lee… don’t do this.’
Lee smiled. ‘I’m not going to do it,’ he said. His smile widened when he saw the look of hope on Wu’s face. ‘I’m going to let Teddy do it. It’ll go some way to making up for the shoe-throwing incident.’
Wu began to tremble.
‘Left hand or right hand?’ asked Lee. ‘If you don’t make up your mind, I’ll let Teddy choose. And I rather think he’ll go for one of your thumbs.’ He handed the wire cutters to Kang.
‘Mr Lee, I’ll pay you back. I swear.’
‘I’m sure you will, Sammy,’ said Lee. ‘Now hold out your hand. Or Teddy will do it for you.’
Wu slowly reached out his left hand, bunched into a first with the little finger extended.
‘Good choice,’ said Lee. He nodded at Kang. Kang smiled cruelly, grabbed the finger with his left hand and slid the pincers of the wire-cutters just below the knuckle. He squeezed the handles, then applied more pressure as the blades cut into the flesh.
Wu screamed and then bit down on his lower lip.
Kang squeezed harder as the blades met the bone, then he grunted as he forced them through. Blood spurted and the finger hit the floor with a dull plop. Wu sat back in his chair, groaning, his face ashen. Lee stepped forward and handed him a handkerchief. ‘Next week it will be another finger,’ he said, as Wu wrapped the handkerchief around the bloody stump. ‘And next time, Teddy will choose.’
Lee’s phone rang and he took it out of his coat pocket. It was another of his enforcers, Rick Zhang. Zhang was one of Lee’s smarter men and often functioned as Lee’s number two. ‘We have a problem, Mr Lee,’ said Zhang. ‘A big problem.’
CHAPTER 3
Gabe Savage stared at the two X-rays but he didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking for. He could see the thigh bones and the knees and the femurs and he knew what he was looking at, he just didn’t know what he was looking for. He shrugged. ‘They look the same,’ he said.
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