Merry Christmas, Here's A Present (4/4) By Nick Quantrill

(1/4), (2/4), (3/4), (4/4),

They both shook their heads. Mad Dog produced one from underneath the table. 'Here you go. An essential tool of the trade. Put the money in it and take it Jurgen. And then you say the magic words and hand it over, ok?' They both nodded, neither of them wanting to be the first to ask for the magic words in case Mad Dog thought they should already know them. 'The magic words are - Merry Christmas, here is a present. Ok?' They both nodded again, relieved that it wasn't too hard to remember.

'When you've done that, give it an hour and then come back here. I'll have the gear for you from Jurgen.'

Razor and Stevie pulled their tracksuit zips up as far as they would go, and pulling their baseball caps down, set off back across Queen Victoria Square in the direction of the market. The fairground rides that dominated the square throughout the day were winding down and as the night started to draw in, the Christmas lights flickered on above their heads. They performed a quick security circuit of the market, so that they were satisfied the police weren't watching Jurgen.

They spotted him in the same place as before, only this time he was drinking a cappuccino. The two boys decided that Jurgen wasn't being watched, so it was time to act. As leader of the gang, Razor felt that the task of handing the money over rested solely on his shoulders. With the snow starting to fall more violently, he braced himself for the task ahead, and checking the rucksack, he walked across the pavement to Jurgen. For a few seconds, he felt scared. Close up, Jurgen looked even meaner, the tattoos all the more vivid and intimidating. Razor watched as Jurgen wiped the snow from his face and spat violently onto the pavement. Razor swallowed and held out the rucksack. 'Merry Christmas, here is a present.' Jurgen swiftly accepted the bag and gave him a curt nod. Razor swiftly turned around and left. He nodded to Stevie and they headed for the bookmakers to while away a slow hour.

By the time the boys returned to the pub, the snow was starting to lie on the pavement. Groups of drinkers staggered past singing out of tune Christmas carols, and the last few hardcore shoppers were finally starting to return to their homes. They deftly moved around the pub, avoiding the groups loudly talking and laughing over the same loop of Christmas music that they'd heard earlier. Razor couldn't see Mad Dog, so he pushed his way towards the bar.' 'Oi, Terry. You seen Mad Dog?' he shouted to the barman. 'He's been in here most of the day.' 'Yeah, but have you seen him recently, like?'

Terry shook his head. 'Not for an hour or so. You looking for him, then?'

'We've got some business to sort out.' He lent in closer to Terry. 'We're doing a deal with a contact of his, Jurgen.' 'Jurgen?' 'Yeah. Foreign bloke, don't speak much English. He's over here pretending to work on that fancy market, but he's really big-time in Europe.' Terry placed the last pint of lager onto the tray and pocketed the customer's change, figuring the guy was too drunk to notice.

'What's he look like, this Jurgen?' 'Hard as nails, mate, hard as nails. Quite small, but you can tell that he works out. Tattoos all over his hands and face, like.'

Terry burst out laughing. 'Jurgen? That's Mad Dog's brother, Jason. He's just out from a five stretch. They were in here earlier having a drink. Big time in Europe? I don't think so, do you? Somebody's been having you on, mate.' Razor stared at Terry, barely able to take the information in.

Terry passed him an envelope from behind the bar. 'Mad Dog left this for you. He'd said you'd be in about now.' Terry made his way over to the other end of the bar, another office party to serve. Razor opened the envelope, and after removing the five pound note it contained, he read the message from Mad Dog - 'Merry Christmas, here's a present.' www.hullcrimefiction.co.uk www.myspace.com/hullcrimefiction

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