Free Wings of the Morning by Julian Beale Page B

to feel almost sympathy for these two hapless, small time thugs. The King came out of his chair
like a striking black snake, moving with a speed and fluidity which took Riley and Mervyn completely by surprise. The villainous cosh had hardly started its descent towards David’s head
before King was there, catching Mervyn’s arm with one hand, plucking the weapon from his grasp with the other. He thrust the cosh into the gaping pink mouth of the big man, twisting it to
produce a shattering scream as the teeth broke and simultaneously using the massive body weight as a pivot against himself so that Mervyn was turned and dumped flat on his face on the floor with a
crash which shook the desks and filing cabinets. King showed him no mercy. He pulled Mervyn’s right arm up behind his back into the near vertical, placed a foot on the barrel neck, selected
the little finger and simply pulled back on it until the snap could be heard by all in the room to be followed by renewed bellows of outraged agony. One of the girls added her own scream, her eyes
open like moons and her hand rising to cover her mouth which yawned open in shock. Sol skittered, pulling at his beard. Glancing sideways, David could see Martin still sitting upright behind his
desk, rooted to the spot. King just stood there, casually holding down his vanquished opponent. He looked at David as if for further instruction.
    There was something of a play here and David found that he could slip easily into his role. He addressed his aside to King as if from commander to hired gun.
    ‘Don’t damage him further for now.’
    Bringing his face up again to Riley who had not moved an inch, he went on.
    ‘Now. You’ve heard and seen. I’m running things here and there’s no room for you. Take your baboon and get on back to your boss. Tell him to leave me and mine alone for
good, starting right now. Or someone is going to get properly hurt. Understood?’
    They stood with eyes locked for a few seconds before Riley broke the contact and David knew he’d won. Riley turned aside, mumbling to himself in a message of reassurance.
    ‘Yeah, well. This little outfit’s not worth the trouble anyway.’
    He gave Mervyn a nudge in the ribs with his polished brogue. King released the ham like wrist and stepped back. Within another minute they were gone, Riley leading the way, followed awkwardly by
the huge Mervyn, blood dripping from his mouth and his damaged hand cradled in front of his great belly as he bumped his way through the door frame.
    Left alone, the owners, staff and friends of Kirchoff and Son looked silently at each other until Sol could bear it no longer and let out a wild whoop of triumph before sweeping David into a
great bear hug.
    ‘I’ve found a new recruit,’ he bellowed to the world at large, ‘and a second son!’.
    Looking over Sol’s shoulder at Martin, David was amazed to see him applaud this outburst. The three girls looked shocked and relieved while King beamed like a midwife completing a
successful delivery.
    It was a good moment for David. That day and hour was the start of it all for him.

THE OXFORD FIVE — 1970
    The first day of a new decade saw all five of the Oxford contemporaries pass through London’s Heathrow Airport.
    The first to arrive was Kingston Offenbach who had flown overnight from New York. He was sorry to have cut short his Christmas visit to his mother but duty called. He released the belt on his
Pan Am seat, reflecting that London had now become more home to him than New York. He looked out of the small window at lights flashing in the dark, cold dawn and realised that he was looking
forward to getting back into this miserable climate.
    King liked London and he liked its people, but the real lure lay in the job. Part of that was down to good fortune — tasks and timing which spelt opportunity — but also, he was damn
good at it. Over the last few years, the growth of traffic in hard drugs had become a pressing