by Mick Moran
“What’s the problem then?”
“It mustn’t get into the hands of the police.”
“Why not?”
“It’s in my handwriting. I know. I should have typed it, but I didn’t think it would get this far.”
“So? Why would the police go checking your handwriting?”
“That man, Martin. He said my name in the pub.”
“You said he wouldn’t remember anything.”
“No. I don’t think he’ll remember much, but he might just remember my name.”
“So? What do you want to do?”
“We need the letter back.”
“We?”
“I need the letter back.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Tommy knows the man that it was given to and he knows where he lives.”
“He’s more than a hundred miles away. Isn’t he?”
“Yes. Someone would have to go with Tommy.”
“You mean me?”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t bungle it.”
***
“Are you sure this is the house?” asked Brian as he brought the car to a halt.
“Yes,” replied Tommy. “I remember the green door and the steps up to it”
Brian reversed the car back to stop in front of the house two doors away. “We’re still a bit conspicuous here, but it can’t be helped. You’re sure you’ll know the man when you see him?”
“I will.”
“And you say it was about half past six when he returned from work that day.”
“About that.”
Brian checked his watch. “We’re a bit early, but we don’t want to miss him. Hi up, who’s this?” A big tall man was walking towards them.
“That’s him.”
“You’re sure.”
Tommy waited until the man got closer. “Yes. It’s definitely him.”
Brian got out of the car and approached the man. “Excuse me,” he said. “Could I have a quick word?"
“All right.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know your name.”
“Paddy.”
“Paddy. Great. I’m James. Maybe you can help me. Do you remember a few weeks ago you were given a letter, which you promised to pass on to a man called Michael O’Malley?”
“I. I remember.”
“Do you know if he ever got it?”
“No. He didn’t. But, sure it doesn’t matter now. The man’s dead.”
“Yes. I’m sorry about that. Do you know what happened to the letter though?”
Paddy thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. Why? Is it important?”
“Yes. I’m afraid it is. Can you remember what you did with it?
“I had it in my pocket to give to him that Friday night, but I never saw him. What was it about anyway?”
“It was about an insurance that he’d been paying into.”
“Well, now he’s dead, it doesn’t matter. Does it?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it does. His widow can now claim on that insurance, but there was an important document in that letter. She will need it to make the claim.”
“Can’t you just send her another one?”
“It’s not that simple. It would be much easier if she had that one.”
“Maybe it’s in my other jacket. I’ll go and have a look.”
“Thank you Paddy.”
As Paddy entered the house, Brian walked back to the car giving Tommy the thumbs up. “I think we’ve cracked it,” he said entering the car to await Paddy’s return.
They sat in silence watching the green door. Then the door opened. “He’s coming back,” said Tommy. “Oh! No, It’s that miserable woman.”
Tommy remembered Mary, especially the mass of unduly grey hair. Appearing disgruntled, she just stuck her head out and looked critically in both directions, before focusing on the car which she gave a fierce once over, before withdrawing to the house and closing the door.
“I’m glad she’s gone,” said Tommy. She’d be no help.
Brian, anxiously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and not taking his eyes off the green door, wasn’t listening. He was getting more and more uneasy as time went by and there was no sign of Paddy.
“Hi up!” exclaimed Tommy. “The cops are coming.”
That got Brian’s attention. “Where?”
“Behind. Coming up the street. Two of them.”
Unfazed, at least outwardly, Brian casually looked in his wing mirror. Two policemen were walking towards them.
“No worries. Just ignore them. Don’t stare.”
Tommy wasn’t fooled. He could see that Brian was worried. Then the door they were watching opened and Paddy emerged holding in his hand what appeared to be an envelope.
“He’s got it.” Tommy was excited.
But Brian didn’t move. “Better wait ‘til the cops pass,” he muttered.
The policemen, much to Brian and Tommy’s relief, seemed to show no interest in the car or it’s occupants. Their only interest appeared to be in identifying a house. They did however stop in front of the car to have a word with Paddy, who had been walking towards the car.
Unable to hear the conversation, Brian, slowly and silently wound the window down, wary of making any sound that might draw the policemen’s attention.
The words were still unclear, but Paddy’s pointing to the door he’d left open told Brian all he needed to know.
“They’re going to his house,” observed Tommy.
“Shush.”
The policemen headed towards the house. Brian, staying put, simply stuck his arm out of the window and silently beckoned for Paddy to come to him.
Obediently Paddy headed towards them. Brian started the engine, noting that the policemen had entered the house and would not be alerted by the sound.
“It’s a bit of a mess, I’m afraid, ” Paddy apologised, offering a very crumpled envelope.
“Don’t worry about that.” Brian snatched the envelope while depressing the clutch and putting the car in gear.
“Thank you Paddy.” Brian drove off leaving Paddy standing there looking even more puzzled than usual.
As they drove off Tommy observed, “She’s out again, having another look.”
“Don’t worry. We got what we came for.”
Chapter 19. The letter
“What’s going on?” All that was going on had got Paddy confused. Mary, stood in the d
oorway blocking his way, was holding a notebook and pen. “Why are the police here? And what are they doing?”
Mary wasn’t listening. “Move,” she said angrily, gesturing with her hand. “I’m trying to see that number plate.”
“Why?” Paddy stepped to one side and turned to watch the car speeding away.
“I think I got it,” said Mary writing in her notebook. “He was in a hurry to get away. What did you do to him?”
“I just gave him the letter.”
“Letter?”
“The one for Michael O’Malley.”
“Oh! You idiot.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Mary sighed, “You don’t know who you gave it to. Do you?”
“I do. He was an insurance man.”
“Was he? Said Mary sarcastically. “ Did he say what it was about?”
“It was about an insurance policy that Michael had. There was a document in it that his widow will need to make a claim.”
“And you believed him?”
“Why not?”
“Why not! I’ll tell you why not. I wouldn’t trust him. He might be doing her out of what she’s entitled to.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“No. You never do. You should have said you’d give it to her yourself.”
“Well it’s too late for that now. Arra don’t worry about it,” added Paddy dismissively. “I’ sure she’ll get it anyway.”
“She might.” Mary was dubious. “If that’s what it was. We don’t know. Sure that man could tell you anything and you’d believe him. Was it the same man that gave you the letter?”
“No. It was a young man that gave it to me. That man was older.”
“Would you know him again? The police will be asking you.”
“I think I would, but why would they be asking me that?”
“They were asking me if there were any strangers here lately. I told them about that man giving you the letter. They said they would need to talk to you about it.”
“Let them talk away. I don’t care.”
“Be careful. They’ll be interested in that letter. It’s a pity you gave it away and just as they came and all. They might think there’s something funny going on with the letter addressed to Michael O’Malley. It’s a murder enquiry you know. They’ll be suspecting all sorts.”
Paddy thought for a moment. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell them about it at all.”
“No. Just tell them the truth. They know about it anyway. If you start telling lies you don’t know where it will end. You could get yourself in all sorts of trouble.”
“I’d better check on the pans.” Mary hurried to the kitchen. On her way she placed the notebook on the chest of drawers in the hall. Paddy followed her into the kitchen. “What are you going to do with that number,” he asked.
“I think I’ll give it to the police. Do you know what make of car it is?”
“No. What do I know about cars? Where are the police anyway?”
“They’re in Martin’s room. They’ll be going through everything. Martin wouldn’t like that, but what can you do?
Paddy shook his head. “I’m going for a wash.”
“Don’t be long. The police will want to talk to you. They might want to talk to everyone in the house. Let’s try and get the meal over first. It’s ready now. Will you tell the others? I think they’re all in.”
***
“We should turn right here for the M6.” Tommy noted that they were in the wrong lane for turning right. Tommy was hungry and wished to waste no time in getting to the motorway services where they’d planned to eat. Without comment, to Tommy’s relief, but almost too late, Brian indicated and moved to the outside lane.
Brian wasn’t concentrating on his driving, concerned only, Tommy though, on putting as much distance as possible between them and Broadfield. Tommy could see that, although he tried to hide it, Brian was still in an anxious state. He had driven for an hour without saying a word: not at all like Brian.
But, why? They got the letter. They got what they came for. He’d said so himself. Everything, as far as Tommy could see, had gone well. It must have been the police presence that had got him rattled. But, the police had hardly looked at them. As they approached the motorway Tommy ventured breaking the silence.
“The police showed no interest in us at all,” he said.
“Why should they?” growled Brian.
“Yeah. Why should they?” repeated Tommy. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”
Who was he trying to convince? The remark only got a disdainful glance from Brian. Tommy said no more leaving Brian to concentrate on his driving as they joined the motorway traffic.
On the Motorway Tommy detected a silent sigh of relief from Brian. “Right,” he said. “It’s a straight road now.” He was visibly more relaxed.
Brian put his foot down and moved to the fast lane. They passed a sign saying ‘services 1 mile.’ Tommy, getting hungrier all the time, feared that Brian had either not seen the sign or in his hurry to get back had decided not to stop.
“The services are coming up,” he ventured, unsure what to expect. The response from Brian, however, left him pleasantly surprised. “Yes. I’ve seen the sign. Don’t worry. I know you’re hungry.”
The restaurant was not too crowded. They found a table some distance away from other diners where they ate mostly in silence. After swilling the food down with a beer, Brian patted his belly. “I enjoyed that,” he said. “Just what we needed after a successful afternoon. I hope you watched and learned Tommy.”
Tommy smiled. Brian needed recognition. “Yes you did well.”
“Full marks to you too Tommy for remembering the man and the house. You had your wits about you.”
“Yes. I have a good memory.” Tommy was relishing the praise. He didn’t expect it from Brian. Brian’s comments were usually derogatory. “Dave will be pleased,” he added.
“He’d better be. We stuck our necks out for him: you going back to the scene of the crime and me dodging the police; all because of his cock up.” Brian took the crumpled letter from his pocket and placed it on the table. He tried to smooth it with his hand, to little effect.
“It’s very creased,” Tommy remarked.
“That’s all right. It’s what’s inside that matters. Should we have a look?”
Tommy nodded enthusiastically.
Brian carefully peeled back the flap. Luckily, it came away without tearing, but then his face dropped.
“Fucking marvellous!” he exclaimed; “an empty bloody envelope.”
“But, how?” Tommy was puzzled.
“Fucking Dave!” exclaimed Brian, “all that for an empty bloody envelope.
“But ,how can that be?” Tommy was
baffled. “I don’t understand.”
“How the fuck do I know?” cried Brian, his face bright red.
Tommy noticed that people at a table behind Brian were staring.
Tommy tried to gesture to Brian to keep his voice down
“People can hear you,” he hissed.
“Fuck them.” Brian stood up. “Let’s go.”
***
It was about ten o’clock when the two weary travellers got out of their car outside The Queen. “Dave will be getting worried,” said Tommy. They had arranged to meet at nine.
“Good.” Brian was in no mood to care. “I hope he’s bloody sweating”
As they approached the bar they saw Dave stood on his own looking gloomy. “He’d better not complain about us being late or I’ll blast him,” said Brian.
Dave didn’t complain. Seeing Brian and Tommy cheered him up “Traffic bad?” he asked sympathetically.
“You could say.”
“Two pints of bitter,” Dave called to the landlord. He knew their drinks
When they got their drinks Dave led the way into one of the rooms. Even at that time on a Friday night the room was empty. “It’s quiet in here,” said Dave guiding them to a table at the far end of the room.
“Dead, more like.”
“Well?” asked Dave, when they were sat down. He could wait no longer. “Did you manage to get it?”
“Oh, I got it all right, for all the good it did.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is what I mean.” Brian took the envelope out of his pocket and threw it on the table.
Dave picked it up. “It’s empty. Did you open it?”
“Yes. I opened it.”
“Where’s the note?”
Don’t ask me. That’s what I found: an empty bloody envelope.”
“You didn’t take it out?” Brian looked from Brian to Tommy. Tommy was shaking his head. “No I bloody didn’t,” answered Brian. “Was there ever anything in it, or was I sent on a bloody wild goose chase?”
“
“Of course there was something in it. I put the note I myself.” Dave examined the envelope. It just had the name Michael O’Malley written on it. “It’s the envelope all right,” he said. “Someone’s playing games with us. Let’s hope it’s not the police.”
“The police were there, two of them,” Brian informed him, taking pleasure in Dave’s fear, which he was in no hurry to allay.
“Did they see you?”
“Yes. They must have. They walked right past us.”
“Bloody hell.”
“We were sat in the car,” Tommy intervened noting Dave’s concern. “They took no notice of us.”
“You were sat in the car?” Dave turned from Tommy to Brian.
What about the car? A strange car outside the house should have interested them.”