Free Incinerator by Niall Leonard

but this wasn’t the time to be picky.
    “McGovern’s run off to Siberia or somewhere and he’s not coming back,” sneered Sherwood. “It’s a whole new set of faces now. Ever heard of the Turk?”
    “The who?” I said.
    “Didn’t think so,” said Sherwood. He smiled because he knew something I didn’t, and sat back in his kid-leather executive chair. “OK, you want to negotiate new terms for your loan.” I noticed he wasn’t talking about Delroy’s loan any more, and I had a feeling any negotiations were going to be a bit one-sided. “Dean tells me you’re running a gym. Does it make any money?”
    “We get by,” I said.
    “You lease the place or own it?”
    I knew what Sherwood wanted to hear. “I own it,” I lied. Maybe he had heard that Nicky had disappeared, but he didn’t know she’d disappeared before I’d managed to buy the freehold of the building, or he wouldn’t have asked.
    “Who’s got the title deeds?”
    “I have,” I lied some more.
    “Well then, let’s say three grand a month, for two years, using this business of yours as collateral,” he said. “Bring the title deeds round here Monday and we’ll draw up the papers.”
    “I don’t have a lawyer any more,” I said.
    “Not a problem.” He smiled. “Mine will look after the paperwork. All part of the service.”
    I’d never afford those payments, I knew, but that’s how Sherwood wanted it. He had no interest in owning a gym—he wasn’t the sort of guy who’d get up at five to mop a floor, and I doubted he would ask Dean to do it. He was planning to shut it down, gut the building, flog it for flats and walk away with the profit. Except that was never going to happen, because I didn’t own the building. But he didn’t need to know that yet.
    Lying had given give me time to think of something. Right now it was important to look reluctant.
    “I own the business with Delroy. I need to discuss it with him.”
    “What’s to discuss? Tell him. He got you into this.”
    “It’s not just my business—that’s my home,” I protested. “If you take it over, where do I live?”
    “Make your payments and it won’t be an issue,” said Sherwood. “And if you come up short, drag yourself to Russia and borrow it from McGovern.” He flicked his head at Dean, who heaved himself upright and slouched over to open the door.
    “Did you ever meet Nicky Hale?” I said.
    Sherwood blinked, as if annoyed at me for changing the subject. “Never heard of him,” he said.
    The doors to Sherwood’s office slammed shut behind me, and I tugged my collar up against the rain. It had been a shot in the dark anyway. Sherwood was going to benefit from Nicky’s disappearance, sure, but he was small-time, a punk and a bully—I couldn’t believe he’d have had a solicitor abducted just to get his hands on my tatty little gym.
    So who was this new guy, the Turk? Sherwood hadn’t just heard of him, he’d talked to him, judging by the smug way he dropped his nickname. It seemed to me that boastingabout the big sharks you knew wasn’t a sensible thing for small fish like Sherwood to do. But that was his business, I decided, and it was high time I minded mine.
    I had to come clean to Delroy. When things got sticky in the boxing ring I had always liked having Delroy in my corner, wiping me down, taping my cuts shut and telling me where I was going wrong. If he couldn’t offer advice he’d slag me off, wind me up and make me angry, and that used to work too. I just hoped that this time he wouldn’t get dragged into the ring with me.

four
    “What are you going to do?” asked Delroy, as we wiped down the gym’s sparring kit in a quiet interval before the evening rush.
    “I think as long as we keep making the payments,” I said, “I should be able to string him along.”
    “How? We don’t turn over anything like that much.”
    “I’ll cover it for now,” I said. The money Nicky hadn’t taken might keep Sherwood satisfied for