Sam snapped his fingers, causing both Wiseman and Aaron to shudder. Her fate wouldn’t be worth contemplating. Sam continued.
‘I’m not saying you did this, Sean. But you have done some bad things for worse people. This girl is only fifteen years old. You can help her.’
Wiseman swallowed, his eyes watering and he looked out over the balcony to the estate below. The rain was thrashing the gloomy streets and old, damaged cars. Aaron took a deep breath, shaking his head with anger.
‘He’s wasting our time, Sam. Do your thing and make him talk.’
‘My thing?’ Sam turned, an eyebrow raised.
‘Yeah, do what you do. Hurt him or whatever.’
‘He’s already done that,’ Wiseman barked, raising the bloodstained bandages that were strapped to his hand.
‘Then I’ll do it,’ Aaron snapped, lurching forward and gripping the wounded hand in his own. Squeezing with all his might, he crushed down on the fresh bullet wound, causing Wiseman to squeal with pain and buckle loosely. With his other hand, Aaron grabbed the lapel of his coat, forcing Wiseman back and rocking him over the edge of the balcony. ‘Where the fuck is my daughter you piece of shit?’
‘Easy,’ Sam muttered, placing a hand on Aaron’s shoulder and gently pulling him back. Aaron brushed him off, roughly shoving a terrified Wiseman back further, one of his feet coming off the concrete walkway as gravity threatened to take control of the situation.
‘Please, help me,’ Wiseman begged, tears streaming down his rain-stricken face.
‘Tell me where she is,’ Aaron spat venomously, his own tears drawn by rage. ‘Tell me.’
Sam reached out again, firmly pulling both Aaron and Wiseman back. Instantly, Aaron slapped Sam’s hand away and stormed back towards the stairwell, his rage pouring out of him. Sam watched him leave, annoyed by his lack of composure but he understood.
A father’s drive to protect his child is something he understood.
Something he had failed at.
Wiseman fell forward onto his knees, gingerly massaging his injured hand with the other and holding back his tears. Having grown up on the estate, he knew better than to show weakness, but the gravity of the whole situation had gotten to him.
He had been shot twice in the last two days.
He had seen his lifelong friend killed.
A young girl was now missing and most likely facing a fate worse than death. Despite turning a blind eye to Riggs’s dealings in women, Wiseman knew the operation. They got the girls young, they hooked them on drugs and then they sold them overseas to dangerous men with worse intentions.
The thought of it broke the barrier, and Wiseman began to weep.
‘Sean.’ Sam broke the silence, his arms folded. ‘Sean, you need to tell me what you know.’
‘I don’t want this.’ Wiseman’s words were quiet and feeble. ‘I never wanted this.’
Sam squatted down to face him, his hair slick with rain.
‘Look, Sean. I have about two days, tops, to help this man find his daughter. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happens when young girls go missing with guys from your gang. So I’m asking you, if you don’t want this … help me.’
Wiseman took a couple of deep breaths before wiping his eyes with his drenched sleeve. Sam extended a hand which he gratefully took and he pulled himself up, groaning slightly as he wiped away the final tears. A couple of his neighbours were loitering in front of one of the doors further up the walk way, carefully eyeing up Sam Pope. Wiseman shook his head to signal it was okay, but it was more for their safety than Sam’s.
Wiseman looked out over the drab surroundings, the gritty world that had encompassed his life so far. Although he had never pulled a trigger or sold any of the product, he had enabled others to do so. He was just as big a monster as they were, if not worse.
It was time to do the right thing.
‘That evening, we had a couple of new members of the NW Acid Gang with us.’
‘Acid Gang?’ Sam’s eyes narrowed with anger.
‘Yeah.’ Wiseman looked away with shame. ‘They work for some big people. I’m talking dangerous, paid up people. The people who have connections, you know?’
Wiseman’s lip wobbled with sadness as Sam pulled his focus back.
‘What do they do? For these people?’
‘The gang? They are the takers.’ Wiseman’s voice cracked again. ‘They take the girls to sell on…’
‘You’re doing great,’ Sam said, swallowing his own disgust. ‘Where can I find them?’
‘Stonebridge Estate,’ Wiseman said, taking a deep breath. ‘It’s in Harlesden and…’
‘I know where it is.’
‘A couple of their younger members were with us that night, but there was no girl.’ Wiseman had stopped crying, but his body shivered in the cold. The temperature was dropping as the city lashed its freezing power on its inhabitants. ‘That’s all I know, I swear.’
‘Thanks. It’s a big help.’ Sam offered a smile, which soon dissipated. ‘One last thing, why do they call them the Acid Gang?’
Wiseman rocked nervously from one foot to the other.
‘Because they have to perform an acid attack as initiation.’
Sam nodded, his fists clenching in anger at the senseless violence deemed necessary for acceptance. The newspapers were rife with innocent people being blinded, scarred, or even killed by someone throwing acid in their face. It was cowardly and it was vicious.
It was wrong.
It made doing things the hard way a little more appealing. As the silence grew between them, Wiseman took one last glance towards the stairwell, but Aaron was gone. He offered Sam a meek smile, before walking past him, headed towards his flat.
‘Sean,’ Sam called after him, taking a few steps towards him. ‘Did you mean what you said? About wanting out?’
Wiseman nodded. Sam asked for the young man’s phone, and he reluctantly handed it over. He tapped in an address and handed it back, smiling at Wiseman’s confusion.
‘When you realise you really want to help, go there. And Sean…’ Wiseman looked
