by Mick Moran
“Quick. Back in the van.” Dave replaced the starting handle under his seat. It was a quiet, mostly industrial, area. As far as Alan could tell no one witnessed the incident, which, in all only took a few minutes.
It was after they got going that Alan got an answer to his question, in the form of an angry rebuke. “Yes Alan, I did have to hit him so hard. You must toughen up you. It’s all your fault anyway for bungling that job up north.”
Alan made no reply. It was not the time to argue with Dave. He was then seeing the Dave that his father had warned him about: the Dave that would certainly get him in trouble, the Dave that was capable of anything. Alan’s father, aware of Dave’s criminal past, had fiercely opposed Alan working for him. “He’ll get you in trouble,” he warned. “If it’s painting and decorating that you want to get into there are other firms.”
That was three years earlier. Alan, of course, was too headstrong to heed his father and went to work for Dave. He had served his time and could then call himself a qualified Painter and Decorator. Last month Dave had put him on full pay; something he still had to tell his parents about. Alan didn’t live with his parents any more, but he did visit occasionally. He was looking forward to telling his parents the news. They would be proud of him. He had proved his father wrong. Dave had not turned out to be the monster his father had described.
That was until a couple of hours ago. If this came out how could he ever face his parents again? Alan looked at Dave; still no sign of movement. He just wanted to run away. Anywhere. As far away from Dave and Tommy as possible. But he didn’t know where they were: somewhere in the country, on the Coventry road he thought. There were no streetlights. It was almost total darkness and he had no money. He felt trapped. What had he let himself in for?
How could have been so stupid? He thought he was agreeing to no more than a bit of an adventure. Now he was involved in a murder; maybe two murders.
It was all because on that Friday afternoon Dave had caught him yawning. They had just finished the job and were getting ready to go home. “You’re bored,” commented Dave. “Is life not exciting enough for you?”
Alan shrugged.
“The job is no longer a challenge,” Dave continued. “You’re good at it now. You picked it up fast.”
. Alan had no idea what Dave was leading up to. Praise from him was such a rare thing. Was he going to sack him, now he was on full pay? Alan knew that sometimes happened. Another apprentice would be much cheaper. Also work seemed a little slack recently. That, Alan suspected was because Dave had taken his eye off the ball; he was not giving the business the attention it deserved. His other interests, like organizing the “Angry Whites”, were given priority.
. Or was this going to be another attempt to get Alan to join. Unlike Tommy, Alan had never joined the “Angry Whites.” Alan’s father had warned him against that too. “Don’t go there?” was his warning, when Alan once mentioned it. “Do your job, but be wary of anything else he tries to get you into.”
On that, at least, he had taken his father’s advice: or so it seemed. It was Dave’s ranting about immigrants ruining the country that far from persuading him, had, in fact, put him off. Maybe Dave was right. Alan didn’t know. But, he heard enough at work. He had no wish for any more in his spare time.
What Dave was getting at, however, was something totally different. “If it’s excitement you want,” he said. “I’ve got just the job for you.”
Alan was puzzled, having no idea what was coming.
“First, let me ask you a few question,” continued Dave. “You’ve heard of the IRA?”
“Of course.”
“What do you think of them?”
“Not much.”
“Do you think that they should be allowed to go around murdering people?”
“Of course not.”
“What do you think should be done with them?”
“They should be locked up; maybe hanged.”
“Yes. That’s what I think. In fact I’d hang the lot of them. But, did you know there are IRA murderers in this country that cannot be touched?”
Alan looked dubious. “No,” he replied.
“It’s hard to believe, I know, but they are among us. They are not even denying it. In fact some of them brag about it, knowing that the law cannot touch them.”
“Why.” Alan was still dubious. “If they are murderers, surely they can be arrested.”
“Not when the murders were committed in Ireland. There they are not recognised as murders. But, often it was our solders that they murdered, and now they are living here and enjoying our hospitality. The law can’t touch them and in their own communities they are treated like heroes. Life for them couldn’t be better. It makes me mad: we are so soft in this country.”
Alan nodded. He was paying more attention than usual. At least this was different. It was usually Asians who were the object of Dave’s diatribes. But, he still had no idea where it was going.
“You remember young Joe Casey,” Dave continued. “He used to work for us, but he left about a year ago. Well, his uncle, his father’s brother, who, I believe, was a policeman over there, was murdered by the IRA. The man who did it used to live round here. He was well known.”
“What did Joe’s family think about that?”
“Of course they were angry when they discovered who the man was, especially as they had known him for many years and for most of that time they had no idea that he was the man who had murdered their father’s brother. You see, he had changed his name. They do that when it’s one of their own they murder, in case they meet friends or family of the victim. The family had never met him in Ireland. They only knew his name. It was chance meeting with someone who knew him in the past that gave him away.”
“That put the family in an awkward position. The man that, with good cause, they hated for so long was then known to them. In fact he was someone they frequently saw around. Joe has two brothers older than him. Neither of them are violent men. But, even if they were, they couldn’t touch the man. The law is on his side. IRA men are protected. It’s all wrong.”
“So, what happened?”
“Leave it to us, we told Joe. We have ways of dealing with such men.”
Alan knew that by ‘we’ Dave meant the ‘Angry Whites’.
“But he’s a white man.”
“He’s anti British. That’s the important thing. The IRA is against everything we stand for. Most Irishmen are against then too, especially Ulstermen: Loyalists. They are loyal to us and feel strongly that those men should be brought to justice.”
“So. What did you do?”
“We ran him out of town. It didn’t take much. Just a letter letting him know that he was caught up with: that his identity was known and that he hadn’t got away with what he did.”
“But we still haven’t finished with him. Recently we discovered where he now lives and have reason to believe that he is up to no good. This is where you come in. You wanted some excitement. Well here’s your chance.”
“Oh no. Not me.” Alan resolutely shook his head.
/> “Just hear me out,” Dave persisted. “You wouldn’t have to commit a murder or anything like that. Just listen to what I have to say and then you can decide one way or the other.”
Reluctantly Alan agreed to hear what Dave had to say.
“You could consider it a public service: a much needed public service. The police can’t do anything, but that’s where we can step in. These are dangerous men; loose. We have to watch them, or who knows what they will get up to. They have been known to kill a lot of people in this country too. But we can stop them simply by letting them know that we are on to them.”
“There is a fund; a special fund, set up by people who care and want justice. They are prepared to put their money where their mouths are. It’s secret. I don’t know who’s in it and I don’t care. I just know that the money is there. So here is a chance to do something useful for society. Something exciting, and also make yourself some money.”
“I still don’t like the sound of it. What would I have to do anyway?”
“The job couldn’t be easier. The man who killed Joe’s uncle; we now know where he lives. It’s up in the North of England. We now know his address. In the first instance, all you would have to do is to deliver a letter to him.”
“Couldn’t it just be posted to him?”
“No. We can’t risk the letter going astray. Enquires would need to be made to verify that he still lives there: he moves around a lot. And, after he’s read the letter, maybe a few days later, he will have to be confronted, to leave him in no doubt that we mean business. The man is a loner, so you would have no trouble getting him on his own.”
“Why me?”
“You’re intelligent. You can be trusted. Tommy is keen, but I’m not so sure about him. Now, if you went with him, we would have no worries. You could treat it as a holiday; only, instead of it costing you money, you would be getting paid. In fact Blackpool is not far away: just a train ride. You could stay there, some of the time at least, if you wished.”
Dave was good. Alan was persuaded. What was on offer was the excitement his life lacked. Apart from work, life had not been so good recently. A couple weeks previously his girlfriend had left him. Then, a week later his best mate moved away. He hid his feelings well, but the break up with his girlfriend had upset him badly. They had been together for over a year and planned a future together.
Alan still hoped that they would get back together again. That was his main reason for not joining his mate. His mate, also a painter and decorator, got a much better paid job in Coventry. There was a job offer for Alan too. He declined because he wished to stick around while he felt there was still a chance that his ex girlfriend, who he still loved, would come back to him.
However, the coupla weeks away, that Dave was offering, might be just what he needed. Also, he was persuaded that it was almost his public duty to do it.
What a fool he was. In the early hours of that Saturday morning, as he stared at the darkness, it felt like his life was over. What was to be a wonderful adventure had turned into a nightmare.
Dave suddenly raised his head, startling Alan. “I know what we will do,” he declared confidently, like he was again in control of the situation.
“Good.” At least something was happening, thought Alan. “Let’s get out of here,” he urged,” he urged. Much as he hated Dave, he was still his only hope.
“Not yet. Get out of the van,” ordered Dave, switching the interior light on. “And come to the back.”
Without hesitation Alan and Tommy did as told.
Dave flung the rear doors open. The back of the van was then lit up. Alan looked for any sign of life and concluded that the man must be dead. They had a dead body on their hands. Gripping the legs, Dave commenced to drag the body out of the van.
“Come on, one either side,” he urged. “But, hang on a minute.” Dave went through the man’s pockets. Some of the contents, probably money, thought Alan, although the light was too poor to see, he stuffed in his own pocket. Something else he pushed between a paint can and the side of the van.
“Right, come on now.” Alan and Tommy got hold of a shoulder each. “Where are we putting him?” asked Alan.
“On the road.” Dave was resolute.
The body was placed on the road, on their side of the broken white lines marking the middle of the road, which was just made visible by the light from the van.
“Right. Back in the van,” ordered Dave. “Quick”
Alan hesitated protesting, “we can’t leave him here.”
“Just come on,” barked Dave, opening the driver’s door
“Oh. Come on,” urged Tommy. “We can’t hang about.”
Alan did as told
Dave manoeuvred the van on to the road so that the headlight was shining on to the lifeless body. He then reversed a little before changing into forward gear again.
Alan, realizing for the first time what was about to happen screamed, “You can’t do that.”
Then, Tommy, looking in the rear view mirror, shouted, “A car’s coming. Behind.”
“Shit,” muttered Dave. He could see the headlight in the distance. “O K,” he said changing into reverse gear again, and swinging the van around “Let’s go.”
With a jerk they set off at top speed back towards Birmingham. The approaching vehicle dipped its lights. Dave didn’t bother.
***
The speeding police car with its siren blaring startled Alan. His nerves were in a terrible state. The walk along the Warwick road was meant to clear his head, but it wasn’t happening. In a way the previous night was then a blur, unreal, like it as all a terrible dream. If only. The blaring siren reminded him that it was all too real.
It was about noon on Saturday. Alan didn’t know how long he’d been walking, or when it was that he’d given up on sleep, such was the state of his mind. It was daylight when he went to bed and, although exhausted, the events of the previous night going round and round in his head, made sleep impossible. He watched the police car vanish round the bend and thought, how long before they came for him. In his addled state of mind, exacerbated by lack of sleep, he could see no way of avoiding it.
There was one thing he was certain of, though; he never wished to see Dave again. He wouldn’t work for him or have anything to do with him ever again, whatever the consequences.
Another day it would have been a pleasant walk. Sheltered from the cold February wind, by the high wall on his left, he would have enjoyed the warm sun on his face, as he approached the pretty town of Acocks Green. It was a walk he had become familiar with since moving into his flat six months previously. On a Saturday, if he wasn’t working he often walked into Acocks Green to do his shopping.
In the town people were busy shopping and doing the normal things they on a Saturday. For Alan would life ever be normal again. He had no food in his flat. He should do some shopping. That was what he was there for. But he couldn’t be bothered. He had very little money on him in any case. He had some savings, but the bank was closed: closed at twelve noon. Something else he’d forgotten about.
Dave owed him some money. But, he wan
ted nothing more to do with Dave. He could keep his money.
Then he saw it: the ford transit drawing up by the footpath in front of him. Oh! No. Dave must have spotted him. But, Alan had made his mind up. He turned back and walked quickly away from the van. Then he dodged down a side street. Dave, however, saw where he went and was quickly after him.
“Alan, Alan wait.” Alan started to run but Dave was not giving up. Eventually he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Alan, why are you running away? We must talk, and I have some money for you.”
“The money you took from the dead man? I don’t want it.”
“No Alan. Not that. It’s your money: what you’ve earned.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want it.” Alan turned away from Dave and moved towards a low brick wall.
They were on a residential street. Behind the wall was a high but neatly trimmed conifer hedge. Over the top of the hedge could be seen the roof of a large detached house, set well back from the street.
Alan sat on the wall and buried his face in his hands. All was quiet on the street, except for the clanging of a gate, which was being opened further down. Then there was the sound of a car approaching.
“Is he O K?” The lady sounded concerned.
“Yes. He’s fine,” Dave assured her.
Alan uncovered his face and nodded. The lady in the passenger seat of the large car seemed less than convinced. Nevertheless the car moved away.
“Alan, get up, ”urged Dave. “We can’t stay here. Clearly Dave wished to avoid a repeat of the interest the lady had shown.
Alan, however, huddled under his overcoat just turned away. All he wanted was for Dave to go away. He felt himself trembling. It was a cold spot. They were shaded from the sun by the hedge, but there was no shelter from the cold wind blowing from the opposite direction. He tried to pull the coat tighter round him.
Dave noticed him trembling. “Alan get up,” he demanded harshly. “You’ll get your death.”
Getting no reply Dave sat next to Alan and put his hand on his shoulder, causing Alan to shudder and move away.
“Ger off me. Leave me alone.” Alan no longer saw Dave as his boss. He no longer worked for him and never would again. “Go away. Leave me alone.”
“Alan, why are you like this?”
“You know why.”
“I know bad things have happened. But, we’re in the clear now. No one suspects us.
Alan turned towards Dave. “That’s all you think about. Isn’t it? You murdered a man in cold blood.”