DEDICATION
With much love the author dedicates Two Faced to Tania, without whose support and encouragement it would never have seen the light of day. He also tips his titfer at the Bushwhacker for inspiration, and to Joseph Mellor, RIP, who should take the blame for his entire career. Special thanks go to Michael Fournaris and André Schlesinger.
Life would be less pleasant without the love and friendship of: Julie, Danny, Robert, Jenna, Ciara, Terry, Lauren & TC, Ethan, Mick and Helen, Tommy and Claire, Paul and Sue, Lol Pryor, Colin and Kathryn, Dave and Lynda, Vic and Mandy, Kara and Jez, Pat Mancini, Garry and Julie Johnson, Sally Hand, Gerard Nicoletti, Wilf Pine, Spider Mike, Colin Butts, Ally Ross, Jill Print, Alan Lewis, Karin Secker, Conrad Chant, Margaret French, Joanna Burns, Kathy Gray, Colin Williams, Roel Middlebos, Skully, Jeff Turner, Jane Rumbold, Sandy Lane, Si Spanner, Dougie The Gold, Batty, Pete Way, Nellie, Scotch John, Jim and Sharon, Garry Hodges, Oxo, Tony Clayman, Andy Swallow, Panny and Gil, Barnet Mark, Watford John, Harry in Belfast, Captain Oi, Colin Blood, Frankie and Jill, Dudders, Steve Green, Clyde and Jayne, John King, Charlton Athletic Football Club, Trisha Harbord, my friend at the People and the Gonads, God bless ’em.
PREFACE
The first Harry Tyler novel, The Face, came out in the summer of 2001. It made two tabloid front pages, got me sacked from the Sun and inspired a campaign of support in the Guardian.
I await the response to Two Faced with a mix of gleeful anticipation and sheer terror.
CONTENTS
Title Page
DEDICATION
PREFACE
GLOSSARY OF SLANG TERMS
1 SCRAPYARD CHALLENGE
2 PHOENIX RISING
3 JEKYLL AND HYDE
4 BROTHERS IN ARMS
5 DEAD ENDS
6 PAYBACK
7 LIFE WITHOUT A SAFETY NET
8 TYLER’S LAW
9 UNTOUCHABLE
10 THE THOUSANDTH MAN
About the Author
Copyright
GLOSSARY OF SLANG TERMS
Apples £20 notes (apple cores=scores;
also Georges, from George Daws)
Aris Arse (Aristotle=bottle;
bottle and glass=arse; also April,
April in Paris=aris)
Banged up Imprisoned
Bang to rights Caught red-handed; guilty
Barry A big woman (Barry
McGuigan=big ’un)
Bent Crooked or stolen (used chiefly
of goods)
Bent Gay (see iron)
Bird Time in prison (bird lime=time)
Blade Runner Someone transporting
stolen goods
Blag Rob (originally a pay-roll or
money delivery in public place)
Blagger Robber
Boat Face (boat race=face; also
Chevy Chase)
The boob Prison
Boost To hot-wire a car
Boracic Skint (boracic lint=skint)
Bottle out To lose one’s nerve
Brass Prostitute (also Tom, dripper)
Brown bread Dead
Bullseye £50
Bung A bribe
Bushel Neck (bushel and peck=neck)
Butchers Look (butcher’s hook=look)
Carpet Three months’ imprisonment
Charlie Cocaine (also Gianluca, Gianluca
Vialli=charlie; snow; Chas;
sherbet; Ying; marching powder)
Chavvy A child (Romany)
China Mate (china plate=mate)
Chiv A knife
The Church Customs & Excise (C of E)
Clean Innocent, especially of carrying
illegal goods
Clobber Clothes
Cockle £10 (cock and hen=ten)
Collar felt To be arrested (‘he had his
collar felt’)
The Currant The Sun (currant bun=sun)
Dabs Fingerprints
Daisy A safe-breaking tool
Darby Stomach (Darby Kelly=belly)
Dipper Pick-pocket
Diving Pick-pocketry
Dog Telephone (dog and
bone=phone)
Doris A woman
Drink A bribe – ranging from a drink
to a nice drink to a handsome
drink
Dripper Prostitute
Drumming House-breaking
Earner Easy money
Elephants Inebriated (Elephant’s
trunk=drunk; also legless; Brahms
and Liszt=pissed)
Eye-tie An Italian gentleman
Feds Undercover cops
Fence A receiver of stolen goods
Filth The police (also Old Bill; Plod;
Dibble; cozzers; rozzers)
Firm A gang
Fit up To give or plant false evidence
Flowery Prison cell (flowery dell=cell)
Four-be A Jewish man (four-be two=Jew)
Frankie A cut-throat razor (Frankie
Fraser=razor)
Friend of ours One of us (As distinct from ‘a
friend of mine’, which means he
seems OK but hasn’t been fully
referenced)
Gaff A house (also drum)
Gary Toilet or anus (Gary
Glitter=shitter; also Khazi)
Give a pull To impart words of advice
Gold watch Scotch whisky
Grass Informer
Grumble Vagina (grumble and grunt=cunt)
Gypsy’s A piss (gypsy’s kiss=piss; also
Jimmy, Jimmy Riddle=piddle;
slash; lash)
Hampton Penis (Hampton Wick=prick)
Hand Grenades AIDS
Hank Marvin Starving
Harry Semen (Harry Monk=spunk)
A Henry An eighth of an ounce of
cannabis, from Henry VIII
In the frame To be prime suspect
Iron Gay man (iron hoof=poof; also
Duke of Kent=bent; ginger
beer=queer)
Jack and Danny Vagina (Jack and Danny=fanny;
also Nook and Cranny)
Jacks £5 (Jack’s alive=five; also Lady
Godiva=fiver)
Jacksie Arse
Jamjar Car
Jiggle A Frenchman (jiggle and
jog=frog)
Jivvle A woman (dismissive term)
Joe A Pakistani man (Joe Daki=Paki)
A Janet A quarter of an ounce of
cannabis (Janet Street Porter=quarter)
K £1,000
K Ketamine (also known as Special
K, Vitamin K)
Khazi Toilet
Khyber Arse, from Khyber Pass
Kosher The real thing
Long firm A business set up and allowed to
run over a fairly lengthy period
with the sole intention of
defrauding creditors
Manor Neighborhood
Mark yer cards To give advice
Minces Eyes (mince pies=eyes)
Monkey £500
Moody Fake
Mug A stupid person (also muppet;
ice cream)
Mulla To beat up.
Mutton Deaf (Mutt and Jeff=deaf)
Ned TV (Ned Kelly=telly)
Nonce Child-sex offender
Nugget A one pound coin
Oedipus Sex (Oedipus Rex=sex)
Oily Cigarette (oily rag=fag)
On your jack Alone (Jack Jones=alone)
OP Observation post
Orchestras Testicles (orchestra stalls=balls;
also cobblers, cobblers awls=balls)
Parcel A consignment of stolen goods
Patsies
Piles (Patsy Palmer’s=farmers,
Farmer Giles=piles)
Peter A safe
Pete Tong Wrong
Pet the poodle Female masturbation (also beat
the beaver, hit the slit, juice the
sluice, bash the gash, slam the clam)
Pigs Beer (pig’s ear=beer, usually on
George Raft=draft)
Plates Feet (plates of meat=feet)
Pony £25 (also macaroni=pony)
Pony Crap (pony and trap=crap)
Pop Pawn (popcorn=pawn)
Porkies Lies (porky pies=lies)
Porridge Time in prison
Puff Cannabis (also dope, grass,
blow, wacky baccy, ganja,
weed, pot)
Pukka A real deal
Queen Mum Bum (also Kingdom Come)
Rock ’n’ Roll Unemployed (rock ’n’ roll=dole)
Rosy Tea (Rosy Lee=tea)
Rubber Pub (rubadubdub=pub; also
battle cruiser=boozer)
Ruby Curry (Ruby Murray=curry)
Salmon Erection (salmon and
prawn=horn; also lob-on)
Saucepan Child (saucepan lid=kid)
Schnide Fake (also Sexton Blake=fake)
Score £20
See You Next Tuesday A cunt
Septic American (septic tank=Yank)
Sherbert A cab (sherbert dab=cab)
Silvery A black man (silvery
spoon=coon; also Fergal, Fergal
Sharkey=darky)
Slag A person with no principles
Slaphead A bald man or Yelland, one who
wears the pink crash helmet
Slaughter A safe place to dispose of stolen
goods (also slaughter house)
Smack Heroin (also horse, H, junk, skag,
shit, brown, Harry, boy, the white
palace, the Chinaman’s nightcap)
Sov £1 (from sovereign)
SP Information (starting prices)
Speed Amphetamines (also sulph,
whizz, Billy, phets)
Spiel Patter
Squirt Ammonia in a bottle
Stewards Investigation (from steward’s
inquiry)
Stretch One year in prison
Stripe To cut the face with a Frankie
or a chiv
Surrey Docks Syphilis (Surrey Docks=pox)
Swagman A dealer in cheap market goods
Swede Head (also loaf, loaf of
bread=head; noggin)
Taters Cold (potatoes in the
mould=cold; also brass monkey’s,
from it’s cold enough to freeze
the balls off a brass monkey)
Tea leaf Thief
Thru’pennies Breasts (thru’penny bits=tits; also
Bristols, Bristol Cities=titties;
Earthas, Eartha Kitts=tits)
Tiddlies Chinese people
(tiddlywink=chink)
Tin-tack Sack
Tits up To go wrong, or pear-shaped, as
in ‘it’s all gone tits up’
Tom Jewellery (tomfoolery=jewellery)
Tom Defecate (go for a Tom, Tom
Tit=shit; also a Forest, Forest
Gump=dump)
Weasel Coat (weasel and stoat=coat)
Whistle Suit (whistle and flute=suit)
Wipe his mouth To put up with the situation
Wrong ’un Bad or untrustworthy person
Wutherings Tights (Wuthering
Heights=tights)
Yelland see Grumble
Disclaimer
The views and sexual mores of the fictional character Harry Tyler do not necessarily reflect those of the author.
CHAPTER ONE
SCRAPYARD CHALLENGE
August 22, 1986. A hot and lazy Friday; Chris de Burgh’s ‘The Lady In Red’ oozed out of the radio like musical slime for only the seventh time that morning, but Ronnie Clavin wasn’t listening. His head buried in the Sun, Ronnie was lost in a private fantasy involving Suzanne Mizzi’s breasts and the back seat of the Ford Sierra he was planning to crush as soon as he’d finished his bacon roll. When the big man came in, Ronnie looked up. He had to. He hadn’t heard him arrive but Goliath was blocking out the light. He must have been six-foot-five and so wide he’d had to turn sideways to fit through the door of Ron’s ramshackle office. Ronnie’s young assistant tensed. He was used to the constant stream of underworld faces at Ronnie’s scrapyard, from shadowy ne’er-do-wells – the ducking, diving plankton – to sharks whose sharp suits had been paid for in buckets of blood, bird and battered boat races. But he had never seen anyone as physically awesome as this dishevelled man mountain.
The newcomer was a Hell’s Angel. His arms were huge, like inflated truck tyres, and so heavily tattooed it was impossible to make out a single square inch of unmolested flesh. He wore dirty denims and a stained Motörhead T-shirt under a sleeveless leather jacket. An iron cross dangled beneath the ‘Cut Here’ inscription around his neck, which was noticeably wider than his ears.
The Angel’s face was scarred and weather-beaten; his nose was broken, his features Cro-Magnon. The beard could have been on loan from Hagar the Horrible.
This had to mean trouble.
‘You dirty no-good cowson,’ Ronnie snarled with menace. He rose swiftly and stepped over his sleeping mutt to face the barbarian intruder. His assistant’s hand shot down to the monkey wrench at his feet.
‘Potman!’ Ronnie exclaimed, grinning widely. ‘Oo loves ya, baby?’
The two men embraced.
‘You ain’t got no prettier, Ronald,’ the Angel rasped.
‘Is Noodles not with you today, son?’
‘No, mate,’ Potman replied. ‘It was such a nice day, Mummy let me catch the bus here on me tod.’
‘Ha bloody ha,’ said a smaller, frowning rat-faced man in US army surplus clothing as he stepped out from behind his colossal companion and shook Ronnie’s hand. He was as thin as fuse wire and just as resilient.
‘Delighted to press flesh as always, Ronaldo,’ the rodent-like Noodles said, the wrinkles momentarily leaving his brow. ‘And who’s this?’
He poked a silver-ringed, fag-stained finger at Ronnie’s sidekick.
The younger man stood up and proffered a hand. ‘I was going to introduce meself,’ he said with a grin. ‘But yer boyfriend looks like the jealous type.’
For a moment there was silence. The assistant’s smile began to freeze. Had he misjudged the situation? A strong hand settled on his shoulder. ‘This is Harry,’ said Ronnie, almost gleaming with paternal pride. ‘Harry Tyler. He’s one of yer own.’
Potman grabbed Harry in a headlock and pulled him close. ‘You’ll do, Harry,’ he said, shaking with laughter. ‘You’ve got some balls, son.’
Harry grinned. He didn’t know the half of it.
‘Right H, put the kettle on,’ Ronnie commanded. ‘No, on second thoughts sling us over the Scotch, there’s a good chap.’
‘How’s the missus, Ron?’ asked Potman.
‘Not good,’ replied Ronnie. ‘She’s got hormonal problems’ – he waited a beat – ‘I can’t stop the whore moaning.’
‘They’re all the fucking same, mate,’ Potman grunted.
‘Ain’t that the truth? Here, did I tell you about the funny old magic dressing table that my old woman’s bought? Yeah, she picked it up from a flea market over in Greenwich and it keeps giving her winners. Marlene stands in front of it of a morning, she reads out a race meeting and the table jumps up and down. If it jumps five times, she backs the Number Five nag and they keep coming in. Well, the other day, she’s out and I ask the table how much dosh she’s got tucked away. Stone me, that table jumps up and down twenty thousand times. So I says: how did she get that much? And with that the legs fall open and the drawers shoot off.’
The others roared as Ronnie poured.
‘As amusifying as ever,’ said Noodles in
his endearingly mangled deadpan way. ‘But I must stop you for a moment, friend. This isn’t just a social visit.’
‘No,’ growled Potman. ‘We’ve got a bit of a problem.’
There was a squeal of tyres outside as a car jerked to a halt. Potman gazed through the office window. ‘And from the look of it, so have you, son.’
‘Who is it?’ asked Ronnie.
‘Well, put it this way, it’s a fair bet to say they ain’t the Fun Boy Three.’
They left the office to face the three heavy-set men who had climbed out of the showroom-new, royal blue Daimler Sovereign 4.2.
‘The Nelsons,’ said Ronnie under his breath.
‘Who?’ whispered Harry, playing dumb – he knew the names and reputations of the North London crime family through the underworld grapevine. They weren’t First Division, but they were right up there at the top of Division Two fighting for promotion. Old Man Nelson himself, known as Buck, was ten feet away from him. He wore a Chester Barrie suit, Gucci shoes and a Cartier watch; and he was flanked by two of his six sons – David and Georgie, both bull-necked and shaven-headed. The real bastard, Nicky, must have taken the day off for knuckle-dragging practice.
‘Get in the car, Ronnie,’ Buck commanded. ‘We’ve got business to settle.’
‘Fuck that,’ said Ronnie, who turned and began to desperately clamber away over a mountain of scrap.
David and Georgie Nelson started to follow him. Potman blocked their way. Georgie pulled a cosh out of his suit jacket; Noodles produced a .45 from his army greens.
‘Checkmate,’ he said, taking a puff of the Jamaican woodbine in his free hand. ‘It’s in perfect working order, gentlemen.’
‘Cute, very cute,’ said Buck.
‘Who are ya?’ snarled David.
‘Renee and Renato, can’t you tell?’
David’s stare could have shattered stone, but he backed off.
‘Ignore these soppy cunts,’ Buck barked. He turned to Harry Tyler.
‘Tell Mr Clavin he’s got a meet with me on Monday, twelve noon at the George in Islington, OK son? He’ll turn up; he’ll know it makes sense. And if he don’t’ – Buck flashed a crocodile smile – ‘then Georgie and David will be back with their big brother Nicky. And he ain’t as reasonable as I am. Know what I mean?’
Harry nodded and watched the Daimler pull away. He shook hands with Potman and Noodles and hit the office phone. The dog had slept through the whole exchange.