Bonnie Jack

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Bonnie Jack Page 21

by Ian Hamilton


  “There is a twisted logic behind that,” said Jack. “How much do they want?”

  “They didn’t say. They want to speak to you directly,” Georgie said.

  “And if I refuse, what happens then?”

  “They’ll pay Georgie another visit. Only this time, they said, they wouldn’t go so easy on her,” Harry said. “They also mentioned Liz, and I wouldn’t put it past them to hurt her.”

  “Animals,” Anne said.

  “I’m embarrassed that they’re Scots,” Harry said.

  “Embarrassed or not, we can’t ignore them,” Jack said.

  “I don’t want you paying them any money,” Georgie said.

  “I haven’t said I will,” Jack said. “Do they know where I’m staying?”

  “I didn’t tell them.”

  “Do you have a phone number for this Billy Baxter?”

  “It’s upstairs in my handbag.”

  “Did he set a deadline?”

  “He said if he doesn’t hear from you within twenty-four hours, he’ll assume your answer is no.”

  “Someone please get me the phone number,” Jack said.

  “I’ll go,” Barbara said.

  Jack watched her leave and felt Anne’s and Harry’s eyes on him. His mind was sluggish from the liquor he’d consumed and the emotional turmoil of the day. He hoped no one would ask him what he was going to do, because he had no idea.

  Georgie rested her head against the back of the sofa, the glare from the overhead lights highlighting her face and making the gash on her cheek look even more gruesome. Anne held her hand and muttered, “Things will be okay, you’ll see.”

  When Barbara returned, Jack took the crumpled piece of paper with Baxter’s number. “We should get going,” he said to Anne.

  She looked up at him, surprised.

  He leaned over and kissed Georgie on the forehead. “I’ll call this Billy Baxter,” he said.

  “Don’t give him any money,” she urged.

  “I’ll call him,” Jack repeated.

  “Do you want a drive back to the hotel?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, that would be good,” said Jack.

  After a round of uncomfortable goodbyes, Anne and Jack left with Harry. The car was no sooner on the road when Harry asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’d appreciate a little quiet, though,” Jack said wearily. “I need to think.”

  31

  Jack didn’t speak again until the car stopped in front of the hotel, and then all he said was “I’ll be in touch.”

  “What are you going to do?” Anne asked as they walked through the lobby.

  “I’m still thinking,” he said, checking his watch.

  “You have to help her,” Anne said.

  He didn’t reply as they got into the elevator. When they reached their floor, he exited quickly and went ahead to their suite. He walked directly to the desk, picked up the phone, and started to dial.

  “Are you calling Billy Baxter?” she asked from the doorway.

  Jack shook his head and said, “Duncan, I’m glad I caught you. I hope it isn’t too late.”

  “Many of my clients work irregular hours. I try to accommodate them. What can I do for you?”

  “As it turns out, I may need your services again.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I haven’t yet sent you my bill,” Pike said. Then he caught himself. “I don’t mean to make light of your reason for calling.”

  “The situation I’m calling about stems directly from the Tribune story that ran this morning,” Jack said. “One of your Glasgow gangs read the story and decided to try a little extortion.”

  “That sounds odd.”

  “If you remember, the paper mentioned that my sister Georgie’s husband is Atholl Malcolm. Evidently the Baxter boys were among the victims of his financial scam. I’m sure you know who they are.”

  “I do indeed. They’ve been clients of mine,” Pike said. “And of course I did hear rumblings that Malcolm left the country with a large sum of their money.”

  “I don’t know if he did or not, but I do know they’re demanding that I repay what they claim he took,” Jack said. “They visited my sister months ago to ask about Malcolm’s whereabouts and see what money they could squeeze out of her. Since she has no idea where he is and he left her high and dry, they let her be. They visited her again today and demanded that her new-found wealthy American brother make good on their losses — or else.”

  “Yes, with the Baxters there’s always an ‘or else,’” Pike said. “Did they hurt her?”

  “Yes, they bloodied her face. They’ve promised to do even worse if I don’t pay, and they hinted that Georgie’s daughter, Liz, could be targeted as well.”

  “They are a crude bunch,” Pike said. “Which of the Baxters visited your sister?”

  “Billy.”

  “He’s the youngest and the most prone to violence. He has three older brothers who have mellowed somewhat over the years. They aren’t saints, mind you, but they take a more balanced approach to business.”

  “Then I would like you to speak to one of the older brothers on my behalf,” Jack said.

  “Assuming I can find one agreeable to a conversation, what do you want me to say?”

  “I want them to lay off Georgie and Liz.”

  “Of course you do. And what will you offer them in return?”

  “We won’t report to the police their attempt at extortion or the violence against Georgie.”

  “Jack, I don’t mean to sound dismissive, but you should know that the Baxters are not the type to worry about the police,” Pike said, and paused. “Would you object to my being completely candid with you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Well, I have to tell you that your idea has virtually no merit. In fact it’s more likely to offend the Baxters and probably hurt rather than help your sister,” said Pike. “When you fly off to America, Georgie will be left here by herself to deal with them. We don’t want to make it worse for her than it already is.”

  Anne was sitting in a chair across from Jack as he spoke to Pike. Her eyes never left his face. Jack turned his head slightly to avoid her stare. “Okay, if going to the police is not an option, let me ask you some questions,” he said. “If I refuse to pay the extortion money, do you believe the Baxters will follow through on their threats to harm Georgie and her daughter?”

  “I can’t say for certain, but I wouldn’t put it past them. There would definitely be the risk.”

  “Is there any way of assessing that risk? Could you talk to one of the older brothers and feel him out?”

  “Jack, you can’t approach the Baxters as if they were some kind of actuarial problem. This isn’t the insurance business,” Pike said. “I think the risk is real, but I can’t possibly assess to what extent.”

  “Okay, then tell me, if I did pay them something, how could I be sure they wouldn’t come back looking for more money six months from now?”

  “How much is something?”

  “I don’t know. They didn’t give Georgie a number. Billy wants me to call him. I assume there’ll be some kind of negotiation.”

  “Are you prepared to speak to Billy?”

  “No. I thought I’d made that clear. If there’s going to be any negotiation, I want you to represent me,” Jack said. “Are you prepared to do that?”

  “I am, and I have to say that’s a rather wise decision on your part.”

  “That will depend on the outcome,” Jack said. “And you didn’t answer my question about them honouring a deal.”

  “On balance, I think they might, but I wouldn’t take their word for it. I would insist on a written contract.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely. Given the nature
of their relationship with Atholl Malcolm and the debt he owes, we could construct something that says Georgie is paying them a portion of it and in exchange they absolve her of any further responsibility for the balance. It would not look like extortion from their end and it would free your sister from any future obligation. It could be a win-win.”

  “Except for the fact that I have to put up the money.”

  “Aye, there is that.”

  “And you believe they’d honour a written contract?”

  “I can construct something with enough legal hooks that they’d have no choice.”

  Jack put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his face with his free hand. He thought about his options and didn’t like any of them.

  “Jack, are you still on the line?” Pike asked.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I’ve decided that you should call the Baxters. Find out how much they want and try to determine if they’ll settle for less.”

  “I can do that.”

  “They also have to agree to your contract proposal.”

  “I’ll call Mark; he’s the eldest. At the end of the day he’ll be the one making the decision for the family.”

  “I’ll be here. Call me when you have some answers,” Jack said, and hung up.

  Anne rose from her chair and crossed the room. She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “I knew you would help,” she said. “I’m proud of you.”

  “I haven’t agreed to anything,” he said. “Pike is going to call the Baxters. We don’t know what they want, and until we do, it’s impossible to say how this will end.”

  “But you’ve taken the first step,” she said. “What happens now?”

  “We wait for Pike to call back.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m a nervous wreck,” Anne said. “I can only imagine what Georgie is going through.”

  “I imagine she’s more experienced at handling this kind of stress than we are.”

  “That isn’t the impression I got.”

  “All I’m saying is that I think she’s tougher than she’s letting on.”

  “Is that an indirect way of warning me that you might not help her?”

  “No. But you can’t take it for granted that we’ll be able to help. All I can do is wait to hear from Duncan Pike.”

  “What I want to do is lie down. I feel exhausted, emotionally drained.”

  Jack watched her leave and then reached for the bottle of Scotch. He poured another shot, sat back, and contemplated a day that had started badly, gotten worse, and then really gone downhill.

  32

  Jack was sprawled across the sofa when he woke to the sound of the phone ringing. He rose, hurried to the desk, and said, “Jack Anderson.”

  “This is Duncan Pike.”

  “I was sleeping. What’s the time?”

  “Quarter past eleven.”

  “It’s been a long evening for you.”

  “Long and demanding. The Baxters are not easy customers.”

  “Where do we stand?”

  “We have an offer that they say is final. It includes an agreement to sign a contract that I would construct with every possible safeguard for Georgie, her daughter, and you. I told them the contract has to be part of the settlement, and they didn’t quibble.”

  “Is that because they don’t intend to honour it?”

  “No, I take it as the reverse. They’ll accept the contract because they have no interest in you or Georgie once they’ve got their money.”

  “How much money?”

  “That’s what took so long to sort out,” Pike said. “Do you know how much Atholl Malcolm stole from them?”

  “No.”

  “Three and a half million pounds.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Actually, I do.”

  “That’s more than five million dollars.”

  “Yes, and that doesn’t count the forty thousand pounds they’ve spent trying to track him down.”

  “How much do they want from me?”

  “One million pounds.”

  Jack caught his breath. “One and a half million dollars.”

  “Yes, thereabouts,” Pike said. “They started off asking for it all, and of course I counter-offered two hundred and fifty thousand. After quite a bit of back-and-forth, I eventually got them down to one million.”

  “That’s an awful lot of money.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “The two hundred and fifty thousand you started with would have been at the high end.”

  “Well, one million is the best I could do, and I’m not going back to them. You might find solace in this: they’ve agreed to pay you back with the first million they collect from Malcolm, if he’s ever found,” Pike said. “I added that on the assumption that he might eventually contact Georgie or her daughter.”

  “What if we find Malcolm and he’s broke?”

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  “So that’s it? That’s the whole deal?”

  “It is. What will you do?”

  “How long do I have to decide?”

  “The clock is ticking. They wanted an answer by midnight tonight, but I managed to put them off until noon tomorrow.”

  “I need to do some thinking,” Jack said.

  “My advice to you is not to overthink this. You’re prepared to pay one million pounds or you’re not. There’s no more negotiating to be done. If your answer is yes, I’ll put together the most fearsome contract Glasgow has ever seen, and maybe when you get home you can turn your security team loose to find Malcolm. If it’s no . . . Well, then, we all live with the consequences.”

  “I understand my choices. You’ll hear from me by noon tomorrow.”

  “Make it eleven. I’d prefer not to cut it so close.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you by then,” Jack said.

  Jack slumped over the desk. A million and a half dollars was more than he’d paid for his house, and that was the most expensive purchase of his life. Now he was being asked to pay a small fortune to save a woman he’d met only four days ago. Hell, a week ago he hadn’t even known she existed. And what about Harry? Why hadn’t the Baxters gone after him? Why hadn’t Harry offered to solve his sister’s problem? Why did it all have to fall on him? What did he owe these people? Not a goddamn thing. In fact, they’d already cost him the chance to stay on at Pilgrim. And now he was expected to pay a million and a half dollars.

  “Fuck,” he said, picking up the phone. “Why should I?”

  “Jack, is that you?” Harry answered.

  “Yes. Is Georgie available?”

  “She’s upstairs resting, but I can get her.”

  “I think you should.”

  “Is there news?”

  “Not yet. I’m still working on it.”

  “I’ll get Georgie,” Harry said, his disappointment apparent.

  While he waited, Jack retrieved the Scotch bottle from the coffee table and filled his glass with the last of its contents. Strangely, given how much he’d consumed, he didn’t feel drunk.

  “Jack, this is Georgie,” she finally said, her voice strained.

  “Hi. Listen, I’m trying to get this situation resolved, and I have a couple of questions.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but do you swear neither you nor Liz knows where Atholl could be?”

  “We don’t have a clue.”

  “Neither of you have heard from him, not even a word?”

  “No.”

  “If Liz had, would she tell you?”

  “Of course. She knows how much it would mean to me.”

  “One more thing. You to
ld me a few days ago that if you knew where he was, you would be prepared to tell the Baxters. After what they did to you, do you still feel that way?”

  “Truthfully, I don’t know. I might, I guess, but I don’t feel as sure about that as I did.”

  “Thanks for being so honest,” he said. “Now try to rest. I am working on our problem. By tomorrow we’ll know where we stand.”

  He checked the time and knew that Atlas Travel in Wellesley would still be open. “I have no choice,” he muttered as he took their travel itinerary from his jacket pocket, found Atlas’s number and dialled.

  “Atlas Travel. This is Miriam,” a woman answered.

  “This is Jack Anderson. My wife, Anne, and I are in Scotland right now. We booked our flights through you.”

  “Yes, Mr. Anderson. I remember doing that for you.”

  “We’re in Edinburgh and we need to get home as quickly as possible.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Yes. Well, I’d like you to find two first-class seats out of Glasgow or Edinburgh as early as possible tomorrow. I don’t care about the cost. We just need to get home.”

  “I can do that for you. Shall I call you with options?”

  “Go ahead and book the one you think looks best, then call me at this hotel. Here’s the number,” he said.

  His blazer was hung over the back of the chair. As he put the itinerary back in the pocket, he felt its paper catch against something. He reached into the pocket and pulled out the two photos Georgie had given him. He stared at the one with Jessie on the sand dunes, barely comprehending that he had been that boy. Why were they in Irvine? What was he pointing the stick at? Why was she smiling so broadly? What had made them so happy?

  He put that photo aside and turned to the second one, of him and Moira with their mother. Jessie looked like a different person. No, she was a different person. She was still in her mid-twenties but looked ravaged and pitiful. He looked more closely at his face and Moira’s. Those weren’t happy children. Their smiles were cautious and guarded, as if they were harbouring secrets. What did he actually remember of his childhood? As hard as he tried, he couldn’t conjure up a single memory of his life before the movie theatre. Everything and everyone was blacked out. It was as if his life had begun when he was abandoned. That memory was there, vivid and burning, and nothing else.

 

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