An hour later, Curtis looked over at Shaun as the QC said that he needed to address the courtroom. Shaun gave him a wink back. They knew what was coming next.
‘Having considered the new evidence against their lead witness, the crown have considered their position very carefully. They have decided that as far as the defendants are concerned there is no realistic prospect of conviction and have decided to offer no evidence. The defendants are now free to go,’ the QC said.
Curtis and Shaun shot up, yelled and then hugged. There were shouts and cheers from the public gallery.
‘Nice one, lad,’ Curtis said, looking Shaun in the eye. ‘Let’s go and get steaming.’
Shaun nodded and looked over at the counsel for the prosecution.
‘Oi,’ Shaun said loudly. ‘You do know that you can’t touch us. You’re never going to touch us. We’re off to spend all that money, la.’
BY ELEVEN O’CLOCK, Shaun and Curtis were nicely drunk, high on coke and sitting at their usual VIP table in The Sugar Cane Club. ‘Touch Me’ by Cassandra was playing. Curtis could feel the bass thudding through his whole body. A dark-haired girl with smoky eyes sat next to him. Shaun had introduced her, but he had forgotten her name now. It didn’t really matter. Another bottle of Moet arrived and the girl gave him a flirty smile as he poured her a glass. Then she squeezed his crotch under the table.
Jesus! How does this get any better? Top of the fucking world!
At that moment, he saw Laura wandering over.
Bollocks. I don’t need any grief tonight.
Curtis and Laura had gone out for a while but he had soon got bored. He had more than enough female attention. And Laura had become needy and clingy.
Laura now worked at the club, and even though he still fancied her, she drank like a fish and took too much coke for his liking. He was more than happy to shag her in the offices upstairs, but that was it.
Laura leant in to talk to him. She smelt of alcohol and was hammered.
‘Having a nice time?’ she said gesturing the girl next to him.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ Curtis said.
‘Got any beak, Curt?’ she asked, her words slurring.
Curtis looked at her for a moment. Her pupils were like saucers. ‘Fuckin’ hell, Laura. You’re fucked.’
‘Have you got any or not?’ Laura snapped, then stumbled and knocked over a glass. She was becoming a liability.
‘Have you had a pill?’ Curtis asked, wondering why her jaw was moving rhythmically.
‘I do love you, Curt. You know that,’ Laura said, coming close to his face, but he could see she was so high she was having trouble focussing.
Curtis looked over to a nearby bouncer and signalled for him to come over. He handed the bouncer sixty quid in notes,
‘Can you get her out of here, Phil? Put her in a cab and send her home,’ Curtis said.
‘Curt? What are you doing?’ Laura said as the bouncer tried to escort her out. ‘Get your fucking hands off me you wanker!’
Curtis wasn’t watching. He just needed Laura gone so he could get on and enjoy the evening.
Two hours later, Shaun decided that they should leave and go to a massive dockside apartment that they owned.
Everyone back to ours! After party!
As Curtis got up, he could see that there were about ten of them in the group. Laughing, dancing and hugging. It had been a brilliant day.
Wandering towards the exit, Curtis took the girl’s hand and squeezed it. She squeezed it back. He was going to be in for a good night.
Outside The Sugar Cane Club, there were still punters queuing to get in. The doormen, who worked for the Blake’s own bouncer company, had already ordered them two executive cabs that were now waiting to whisk them away south towards the Mersey.
‘Cars are waiting for you, Mr Blake,’ the bouncer said.
Curtis looked up, watching as the drivers opened the doors to let everyone in.
We’re like bloody movie stars!
Suddenly, from behind, Curtis heard the sound of a small engine getting closer.
What the bloody hell is that?
He spun around to see that a scooter had mounted the pavement and was heading straight for them. Both the drivers were wearing blacked out helmets.
Shit! This is not good.
‘Shaun!’ Curtis yelled, panicking.
Curtis gestured wildly to Shaun who was ushering everyone into the second car. Shaun was laughing, oblivious to what was about to unfold.
‘Shaun! The bike!’ Curtis bellowed at his brother as he started to run to intercept the bike.
I don’t fucking care if they’ve got a gun. I will fucking bury them before they get it out!
The bike stopped about twenty yards from them.
‘Everyone get down!’ Curtis screamed.
The passenger pulled out a handgun from his leather jacket and pointed it at Shaun. It seemed to be happening in slow motion and there was nothing Curtis could do.
‘The Hill Street Posse say hello!’ the passenger said in a thick Jamaican accent.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
He shot Shaun three times – twice in the body and then once in the head.
Curtis watched in horror as his brother’s body fell to the pavement like a rag doll.
There were screams as everyone scattered.
Curtis didn’t move. He just watched the bike speed away into the traffic.
He knew what had happened. It was revenge for Duane Miller on the night of the millennium.
‘Get an ambulance!’ a woman screamed.
Curtis knew there was no point. His brother was dead.
CHAPTER 3
February 2003
It was mid-morning, and Nick was sitting in a lecture hall at the North Wales Police Training Centre. He was now well into his second year as a probationer and most of his time was spent learning on the job at Llancastell Police Station. He could feel a film
