The Con

CopyrightHarperNorthWindmill GreenMount StreetManchester M2 3NXA division ofHarperCollinsPublishers1 London Bridge StreetLondon SE1 9GFwww.harpercollins.co.ukFirst published by HarperNorth in 20231 EDITIONCopyright © Karen Woods 2023Cover design © Sarah M Whittaker 2023Cover photographs © ShutterstockAuthor Photo © Karen WoodsKaren Woods asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this workA catalogue record for this book is available from the British LibraryThis novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it, while at times based on historical figures, are the work of the author’s imagination.All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at www.harpercollins.co.uk/greenSource ISBN: 9780008592103Ebook Edition © June 2023 ISBN: 9780008592110Version 2023-05-16 Note to ReadersThis ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings: Change of font size and line heightChange of background and font coloursChange of fontChange justificationText to speechPage numbers taken from the following print edition: ISBN 9780008592103 DedicationTo my mother, my queen, Margaret Price. You have given usmemories we will never forget. I will make you proud anddo all the things we spoke about. You will be missed byall your family, rest in peace. Love you Mam xIn memory of Christine Price and Maureen Orman,always missed.To our Daz, my brother, my friend and my angel.Love you always.For my son Dale, goodnight God bless x Other Books ByTracksTeaseViceThe Deal ContentsCoverTitle PageCopyrightNote to ReadersDedicationOther Books ByPrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyChapter Thirty-OneChapter Thirty-TwoChapter Thirty-ThreeChapter Thirty-FourAcknowledgementsBook CreditsBack AdsAbout the Publisher PrologueZara Makin remembered exactly how she felt when she first held her son: like she’d walk through fire to protect him. She’d never known love like it – and she knew then it would never change. And she remembered how he looked: vulnerable, pure and – most of all – innocent. If only he had stayed the same … Chapter OneTyler Makin stood in the dock at Manchester Crown Court and snarled over at the prosecution, his hands cupped together tightly, a look set deep in his eyes that told you this man was dangerous. Judge Vickers was getting ready to sentence Tyler and his crew, to get them off the streets, to rid Manchester of their crime wave and keep the community safe. Tyler was constantly licking his dry, cracked lips as he waited, ready to know his fate. He eyeballed the judge next, trying to work him out. The old fella looked like he was in a mood today, with a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.Tyler had stopped hoping for the best as the judge had summed up the case earlier. Maybe his luck had finally ran out. It hadn’t sounded good, even he knew that. And most of the people gathered here in the court weren’t on his side anyway. It was clear in their faces what they felt towards him: hate. A room full of people who wanted justice to be served here. They were looking at him as if he was some master criminal. It was all minor stuff in his eyes, fuck all to get upset about, if you asked him. This was real life, how people earned a crust where he was from. It was pretty much the norm to sell drugs in his neighbourhood these days, everyone was doing it. What the hell did the government think men like him were going to survive on, anyway? A poxy two ton a fortnight payment from Universal Credit, if they were lucky? It was a joke, barely enough to live on, let alone leave anything for even a taste of the stuff that made life sweet: a meal out, some new clothes, a bit of luxury.These jossers here today were making him out to be some kind of psychopath. ‘A danger to the public,’ the prosecution had told the courtroom earlier. Was he having a laugh or what? Tyler had never hurt anyone who hadn’t deserved it. Well, maybe a few, but they had taken the piss, tried to have him over, disrespected him. He had his name to defend, a reputation to keep. Tyler was fair, firm and the people who knew him well would have told anyone that, he reckoned. He was a good guy, he felt, maybe even a lovable rogue. But he knew now he’d got sloppy and let things slip, his head not properly in the game. A few beers too many sometimes didn’t help. He’d made some daft mistakes, sent text messages that made him sound like he was at the top of the ladder, that set him up as the main man on this conspiracy charge to supply class A drugs.He’d got too used to the life, he could see that now. When everyone around you is in the same line of business, you think you’re untouchable. But nobody was bigger than the law and he should have known that, sooner or later, the dibble would be booming his door down, taking everything he’d grafted his balls off for. His car, watches, designer clothes: the police would take the lot. Money bought a lot of things, but safety wasn’t one of them. Tyler hated to admit it, but even being on remand in Strangeways had taken its toll on him. When he’d looked at himself this morning, there were dark circles under his eyes, cheek bones showing in his once rounded, tanned face.Strangeways was notorious