John Barker - Futures

The year is 1987, the traditional commodity traders have gone and the new boys with their free market doctrines of unfettered competition have taken over the commodities asylum, two of them, the profligate protagonists of the story, with a not-too-fantastic plan to develop a cocaine futures market. In Futures, John Barker has produced a fast-paced, hardboiled novel that pulls you back, effortlessly, into morally corrupt Thatcherite London in the dramatic aftermath of the Bosh, Bosh, Bosh Big Bangcreatively mining the rich vein of extraordinary characters, situations, dialogue, and experiences distilled during the eight years he spent banged up at Her Majestys pleasure. Coupled with his later European journeyings and travails, Barkers crisp, laconic prose, eye-for-detail storytelling, command of the art of narrative, and his ear for fluid and convincing dialogue makes him, in my view, Hackneys worthy successor to Tom Wolfe.

Stuart Christie, coauthor of The Floodgates of Anarchy

John Barkers prose is so downbeat he leaves even the most gritty of crime novelists looking like theyre aiming for the preteen market. But if you want to get beyond the fairy-tale version of the sordid underbelly of life, then you gotta check Futures out.

Stewart Home, author of The Assault on Culture and 69 Things to Do with a Dead Princess

In this fast-paced, streetwise take on 1980s London, boundaries blur between the cocaine trade and newly deregulated financial markets. High and low life dont look so different, as everyone tries to make a killing. Barkers portrait of a cynical, money-hungry culture skewers a moment in history that for good or ill (and mostly for ill) made Britain what it is today.

Hari Kunzru, author of Gods without Men

Its great. Rollicking, uncompromising stuff. The prose grabs you by the throat and squeezes. The characters are by turns reckless, ambitious, vulnerable, and weak. The story is set in the past but couldnt be more relevant. Futures is funny, frightening, and very dark.

Ronan Bennett, author of The Catastrophist and Havoc, in Its Third Year

Futures

John Barker

John Barker 2014

This edition 2014 PM Press

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be transmitted by any means without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN: 9781604869613

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013956918

Cover artwork by Ines Doujak and Markus Wrgtter.

Cover design by John Yates / www.stealworks.com

Interior design by briandesign

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Printed in the USA by the Employee Owners of Thomson-Shore in Dexter, Michigan.

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To the memory of Noreen Noni Macdowell (19512011) and for Philippe Garnier without both of whom

I wanted to say: Look pal I read the papers, I know the flavour of the month when I see it, and Ive got a body to offer. What else do you want?

Thats what I wanted to tell Graham Curtis. Hes the DCS who came out smelling of roses when they had the stampede out of the Robbery squad and on to the Drugs. You know, just to speed the whole thing up because I had a lot on my mind plus the Italian at six, the Iranian at eight and a social function at which nine was the latest I could show my face. What I said was, Quite Graham, quite. Youve got to be reasonable, Grahams got to talk in code. Him and his dad, maybe even his grandad, theyve been at it a long time and he likes a bit of respect for the form or maybe hes just forgotten how to talk any other way. But this time the thing was it was so simple, and I was busy. Thats what was giving me the hump.

I waited for him to say his next bit, to put it on the line, and stared at the pastel colours on my office wall. Its a bit of a joke this particular place of mine, a wine bar top end of Commercial Road, but my property advisor tells me its a good bet for the long run. How longs the long run I ask myself. I mean Docklands Development, millionaires enclave and all that, all very well but the Commercial Road? The Pakis have got most of it for one thing. But when alls said and done I like having my office here. Its modest and if theres one thing I dont like its flash.

I sat there waiting for Graham to get down to business and carried on looking at the walls that are in ochre and light olive green. Theyre supposed to be calming. Thats what my Design Advisor told me. Funny thing is while I was staring I remembered that even as a young jack-the-lad Id known how to say, Is-there-anything-we-can-do-about-this-guv to a Curtis clone. There was as it happened. Cost me but it kept me clean and thats the way I still am. A bit of Borstal thats all, and who gives a monkeys about a youthful transgression these days. Some places its a plus.

You see Gordon, its a social evil, Curtis said.

I nodded and told him how true that was. Chasing dragons on council estates, I said, they ought to put a stop to it. That and the spades, theyre making themselves busy just lately.

Which is exactly what were trying to do Gordon, but to do that its no good just hitting a few pathetic users. Weve got to hit the suppliers and hit them hard.

I nodded again, said Quite and resigned myself to more bollox. What it is, is maybe Curtis half thinks Im taping our little chats. Which Im not. Ive dabbled with the idea. Several times. But in the death theres something gives me the creeps. Like these mobile phones things.

I looked at those walls again. When that Design Consultant of mine said they create a relaxing ambience I wanted to say, A relaxing ambience you cunt. But I didnt. It might be true, and if so it can only benefit my brothers, Keith and Derek.

Were looking for the publics help on this one Gordon, to combat this evil.

Now that is code for you. Now I was a member of the public, what I call an MPP, a mug of preposterous proportions. I asked him if he thought I could help while I livened up his drink and felt a sudden impulse to drag him down the gym for a workout all scotched up. Hes as sharp as a rat, Graham is, but hes overweight and not very healthy which does no one any good. I mean who wants the cardiac arrest of a guy youre paying grands to; of a guy who can ridicule the suggestion that Gordon Murray has got anything to do with anything from behind a plastic cup of scotch; of a guy who can convince any junior zealot that Gordon Murray isnt worth a moment of anyones attention, which is what counts when manpower shortage is the name of the game. I mean who wants it? Keith maybe. Wouldnt mind Curtis stiff and purple at the bottom of the wall bars because that Five stretch did embitter him. Think of your wife and kids I keep telling him. Two hes got, Keith, a boy and a girl. Plus I drop hints to Graham, I even thrust a BMA report under his nose one time but it didnt do any good. Its like the cunt actually likes having a belly.

Thats up to you of course Gordon, he said.

And I wondered. I have to say that at that moment in time I did wonder about Grahams long-term viability. It wasnt just the health question but knowing that Her Majestys Customs and Excise Branch have recently received a large injection of capital and Graham doesnt cut much ice with them.

I looked at his shifty eyes across the table and decided that a long-term investment couldnt be dumped, not just like that. If theres one thing my nearly exInvestment Advisors emphasised its to keep your nerve with an investment you really fancy. Besides which I could expect some short-term gains from Curtis at a time when Mickey White was giving me the hump like he was. Mouthy bastard. Robs this and fences that and with enough bevies inside him calls me a no-good cunt in the Ripened Hop.