Paolo realised that Tony actually relied upon his twin Terry for his own strength and that with Terry not around to 'play to', he was less certain in his top role. 'Uneasy lies the head...' thought Paolo.
"What I don't get Paolo, is why if Terry's got problems he doesn't want to talk them through with me. I'm his real 'other half' after all."
Paolo hesitated, but then replied "You maybe part of the problem, Tony, or all of it for that matter!" This was perhaps a dangerous viewpoint, given Tony's volatility.
But "Perhaps you're right" was Tony's morose response.
"So you're saying Terry's had some kinda mental breakdown then?" asked Tony.
"It looks like it Boss," replied Paolo, adding "but what do I know about such stuff?"
Paolo was surprised that Tony seemed to be confiding in him and asking his advice minutes after dressing him down for arriving late. He thought to himself that maybe it was Tony who was uncharacteristically 'close to the edge'. This could work two ways for Paolo, Tony could become dangerously unpredictable on the one hand or reliant upon Paolo's advice on the other, which would be perfect..
Paolo needed to take care.
Expecting a bollocking for being late, Paolo explained away his delay in getting to the office despite living far closer than Tony.
"I was, er, entertaining," he said rather bashfully.
"So you were more interested in shagging than getting off your arse and coming here to see me?" Tony accused.
"I had to drop her off home on the way..."
"Whatever... you're here now." Tony couldn't care less what Paolo's excuses were; he needed to talk to him now. He showed him Terry’s text.
"What's going on Paolo? What the fuck's going on?"
"Looks like he's flipped." was Paolo's reply.
Paolo waited a while before leaving Terry's house in case Tony was still hanging around somewhere. Paolo had to admit to himself it had been a stupid near miss. The only good thing was he wouldn't now need to take Terry's cases to the refuse dump.
He was expecting Tony's call so wasn't at all fazed when he heard the boss's order to "Get into the office now! Need to talk to you about Terry."
Driving his own car, Paolo was well behind Tony, who had driven straight from Terry's to the East End.
"Where the fuck have you been?
Tony was baffled. What was Terry's problem? Where had he gone? Why had he gone? Is the fucker trying to blame me for his messed up fucking head?
He was Tony, so of course he did try Terry's mobile, which of course Paolo had switched off again. Tony texted a tirade of invective, but nothing would bother Terry now. Tony ranted and lashed out, smashing an expensive vase. Nobody treated him like this!
Paolo had been very smart to realise how, despite his predicament, he could get Tony to leave. Minutes later Tony had left, in a white-hot rage.
Tony couldn't fathom it. What was Terry doing if he wasn't flying out to see Livia. Had he stumbled upon some rift in his brother's marriage? Terry had adored Livia but the impression Tony got was it was Terry who was aggrieved.
When confronted with so much contradictory stuff, the mind goes into overdrive. Tony was confused. His confusion didn't improve much when he heard that he'd got a text. It was from Terry's phone. He opened it quickly.
'Finding things too much had to get away to sort my head out. Don't call I won't answer I need time'
It was like a French farce, except for the knife Paolo had ready. If he needed to use that, it might be farce, but it would also be fatal for someone.
Paolo had the advantage over Tony who would not be expecting an attacker. The younger man should be able to take Tony out, but if he were discovered, he would most certainly have take Tony out for good... and that would upset the plan.
Tony opened Livia's door, glanced around and just muttered "Messy cow!"
Tony then went into Terry's study and discovered his empty suitcases.
"What the fuck...!"
"Terry, Terry... are you here Terry?" Tony shouted loudly enough to wake the dead, and certainly Paolo asleep upstairs in Livia's bedroom. It was a rude awakening and one that set his heart racing like a thoroughbred. This was serious trouble as he heard Tony below checking all the downstairs rooms. Fortunately, Terry opened the inside door into the garage and went in to see if Terry's car was there and if so, to check it out.
That gave Paolo time to quietly slide out of Livia's bed rearrange the covers a bit and secrete himself in her large wardrobe.
Worry? Worry? That was the last thing Livia intended to do. But had she known that Paolo was currently sleeping in her bed, she would have had reason to worry.
Paolo hadn’t thought things through. He should have realised that even in the middle of the night the first thing that Tony would do after Livia’s call was to shoot over the few miles to check out Terry’s house. Livia hadn’t thought the silly boy would sleep the night there, otherwise she would have warned him.
Tony had the keys and codes too. Fortunately for Paolo, Tony didn’t enter quietly.
Tony told the truth, almost.
“Are you sure he ain’t there?” was his first response, “absolutely certain?”
“They told me he wasn’t on the flight.” Livia replied.
“I was gonna drive him to the airport, but twenty minutes earlier he texted to say he was going by taxi instead on account of being worried about missing the plane.” Tony didn’t add that he had planned to make Terry miss the flight anyway. “Which taxis do you use?”
“It could be any.” Livia replied.
Tony, still shocked, was gaining composure.
“Leave it to me. Try not to worry. Continue your cruise.”
Tony struggled to say anything. Had he heard correctly? Terry wasn’t on the plane?
In the airport bar, Livia smiled as she thought of Tony at the other end trying to process this and struggling for words. ‘There’s a turnup for the books’, she thought.
“He’s not here Tony, he’s not here. And he’d texted me to say you were taking him to the airport, so what the fuck have you done with him?” Livia was extremely bold in her language to Tony, given his violent past. But her approach was deliberate; she would be beyond suspicion.
“Well?” she demanded.
At 2am, when Paolo had just fallen asleep in Livia’s bed, Tony was rudely awoken by his phone, from which he was never separated. It was Livia, calling from Barbados.
“Where the fuck is Terry?” she demanded, surprisingly boldly. “I’ve been waiting here for hours, his plane’s come in and yet there’s no sign of him. Have you stopped him coming out? Why? Doesn’t the poor guy deserve a fucking break? A break from you Tony! You can’t control all his life... or maybe you think you can!”
Tony heard little. Her first question was a kick in the guts.
Paolo returned quickly, without speeding, to Terry and Livia’s house. Putting Terry’s car back in the garage, to complete this task he needed to dispose of Terry’s luggage. He took time to empty Terry’s suitcases and put his clothes neatly away. He kept Terry’s mobile and SIM card. He might well need those later.
Paolo decided to remove and dispose of Terry’s empty suitcases the next day. Tonight though, he would sleep there, in Livia’s bed, absorbing her memory and anticipating the time when he would share it with her.
A long day today, but everything had gone to plan.
The Fens are characterised by a network of waterways providing irrigation for its highly productive arable land. Long straight roads run closely parallel to rivers like the Great and Little Ouse, New Bedford River, and straight canals which drain into The Wash. The proximity of the roads to the rivers and the flat openness of the area make it easy to access these waterways.
Nobody would stop or think twice about the SUV driver changing a wheel by the roadside.
Terry’s weighted body, minus eight fingers, slid gently into the river. If discovered, it wouldn’t be for a long time.
Despite Tony’s anger at the fact that Terry had outsmarted him and Paolo had failed to prevent him taking the flight, he couldn’t realistically blame his sidekick for that.
Paolo left the office and returned to his flat, checking carefully for a tail. Then later he set out for Essex to deal with Terry’s body. He let himself in and waited for darkness before he set off in Terry’s car up the M11 motorway, past Cambridge, continuing north to the cathedral city of Ely and beyond to the Fens.
This is the land reclaimed from the sea, like the Netherlands.
Paolo was pleased to be doing Tony's bidding so soon after the deed. It meant he would probably be and stay in the clear. He felt safe in the knowledge that his quarry was actually lying in the back of his own car in his garage and nobody was likely to look there.... certainly not Tony, because he was convinced Terry had gone to Heathrow by taxi.
Arriving back later, Paolo had to withstand Tony's wrath. He explained.
"I found the flight check-in, but Terry must've already gone through. But they wouldn't confirm if he had or not. Bastards!"
In the state that Tony was in, Paolo knew it wasn’t smart to question him. He did need to know though which Teminal, which flight, where to, what time. So he asked.
“Oh I don’t fucking know... 3 or 5 to Bar-fucking-bados, lunchtime.” was all Tony could manage.
“OK, OK, I’ll find it.”
“You’d better find him too!” threatened Tony.
“But what if he doesn’t wanna be stopped?” Paolo had demanded.
“Then make him!” Tony sounded apoplectic.
The way he was raging, Paolo almost expected Tony to tell him to kill Terry.
Now that would have been ironic.
After Paolo despatched Terry to enjoy whatever promises were in his promised land, cleaned up any small signs of spilt blood, which, due to his technical skills, were few, and laid Terry neatly in the car boot, he sent Terry’s text to Tony. Paolo smiled at Tony’s predictable repeated attempts to speak to Terry. Then he switched off Terry’s phone and removed the SIM card. Job done.
Then Paolo visited Terry’s home gym for some heavy weights that had pumped their last iron.
Tony called Paolo, almost speechless.
“Terry’s gone fucking AWOL! Get to Heathrow and stop him flying out!”
As he cruised north up the M11 later in the day, Paolo reflected how easy it had been.
No need to break in to Terry’s house, although Livia had the foresight to give him keys and security codes, just in case.
No need for a struggle as he slid the knife into Terry from behind while helping put the luggage into the boot of Terry’s own car, in Terry’s own garage. Plenty of time to clean up any spilt blood and put Terry into the boot of the SUV.
And on time he’d received the call from Tony he’d expected.
Tony would pick up Terry at 09.30, saying that would leave plenty of time to get round London and be at the airport two hours ahead of departure time. Terry agreed, knowing he would be getting there well before that anyway, having made secret arrangements with Paolo. Terry thought Paolo seemed trustworthy, even though he would now need to keep him away from Livia.
At 9.10am, Tony got a text.
'Tony - I got worried about missing flight. Took a taxi. Sorry!'
Tony called Terry immediately... and again... and again.
"Pick - fucking - up!"
Terry's phone went dead. Terry was dead too.