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Chapter Thirty-Two
Leo
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TAM AND I LAY FLATon our stomachs on a hill on the outskirts of Bexley Farm. The sun had started to rise, not yet above the horizon, but giving us enough light to see. I was kicking myself for not recognising the address sooner.
“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” Tam said from beside me.
We stayed in the distance, keeping out of view. We didn’t want to be seen yet, if at all.
From our raised vantage point, we had a good view of the field dotted with caravans and motorhomes in front of us. This place wasn’t set up for tourists, though. From the small gardens and areas of decking to the washing lines hung out the back, to the dog kennels attached to the sides of the caravans, it was clear this place was a permanent residence for those who resided here.
Travellers.
The Irish thought we looked down on them because we lived in expensive houses while they were in caravans, but it wasn’t like that at all. They had their freedom. Their homes were immaculate. It was just a different culture. Expensive Land Rovers and other off-road vehicles were parked outside the caravans. They weren’t without either money or business.
Fuck.
Since when did the Estonians have a connection with the Irish? The traveller site was known to be home to all sorts of dodgy shite, mostly centred around illegal gambling. Bare-knuckle boxing and dog fights were among the things they gambled on, but if they thought they could make money on it, they bet against it.
“If Rasmus has got the Irish behind him,” Tam said, “this is going to get messy fast.”
The Irish didn’t come into the city too often, preferring the open spaces of the surrounding countryside. That was a good thing for us. Their leader, Finbar Fury, could be a ruthless bastard. I had no idea they were involved with the Estonians, though.
“What are we going to do?” Tam asked me.
“Figure out which one is housing Rasmus and his men.”
“How the fuck are we going to do that?”
“I have no idea yet.”
It was quiet, too quiet.
I jerked my chin towards one of the caravans and the vehicle parked next to it. “Look, over there.” Between all the four-by-fours was an expensive Mercedes. “That must be Rasmus’s car, or at least his rental.”
Tam shifted his position slightly. “Does that mean he’s inside that caravan?”
“Perhaps. I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Tam lifted both eyebrows. “You’re talking about going down there?”
“You got any other ideas?”
“They’re going to be watching out for us. We need a diversion.”
I stared at my older brother, grateful that he’d come with me. “You’re right.”
I got up from where we’d been lying, my clothes damp from the ground, and hurried back through the trees to where I’d parked my Range Rover. From the back, I took out a cannister of fuel and a lighter and carried them to Tam.
“This should do it.”
