“Ah, I know this place.” Sam got out and looked round with interest.
“You should. You spent enough time here as a kid. We were here as much as we were at home. Of course, we lived closer then.”
“Adi’s charity, isn’t it?”
“One of them. He gave a lot to charities in this town, time and money, but this was his biggest project, his main thing after The Vale. We started it together, actually, back in the eighties. Adi’d had a bit of negative publicity from off the pitch – some scrapes he’d got into. He didn’t like that. I encouraged him to do something a bit more positive, help his image, put something back into the local community. He wasn’t keen at first, but I suggested a sports club, and he liked that idea. So we found this place – just empty wasteland then – and Adi bought it with his own money. Got it landscaped, put in some goalposts – went round local businesses and got them to cough up for a clubhouse…” I laughed. “Now look at it. Three pitches, skateboard park, sports hall, gym, and swimming pool – and all free for the local kids.”
“Doesn’t look very busy, though.”
I frowned. He was right. The car park was almost empty, the lights were off in the buildings, and indeed the sports hall seemed to have a chain across its main doorway.
“I haven’t been over here for a while,” I admitted. “What with recent events. It is looking a bit run-down. Let’s go over to the offices; see if Declan’s in.”
The central building housed the sports hall, the swimming pool, the squash courts, and a café, as well as the administrative offices. The front door was locked, however; the reception desk inside deserted. I led the way round to a side door, tried the bell, and then knocked.
There was movement inside, and after a moment’s wait, the door opened and Declan looked out. And down – Declan’s one of the tallest blokes I’ve ever met, at six foot seven and a half inches, and one of the best midfielders The Vale ever had. It was cancer that ended his career, and nearly ended him. They caught it in time to save his life, but after years of treatment he could never get back to the level of fitness needed at the top level, so Adi had put him in charge of the sports centre.
“Graham? Well, here’s a thing! I wondered whenever you might be showing your face again!” Dec had lived in England since ’85, but had never lost his strong Northern Irish accent. “And who’s this with you?”
“Hello, Dec. This is my lad Sam – Sam, Declan Healy, the best man in the air that The Vale ever had!”
Declan laughed and shook Sam’s hand. “I don’t know about the best, but I had a few good games up at the Castle and elsewhere. Come on in, I’ll have the kettle on.”
He led the way back into an untidy office. The walls were decorated entirely with framed photos and faded cuttings from newspapers. Many of the photos had Adi in them somewhere – presenting trophies, opening buildings, posing with various sports teams. Most of the newspaper articles were written by me, and I was even in some of the pictures.
There were three desks, but only Declan to sit at them.
“Where’s all the staff, Dec?” I asked. “Have you given Tracey and Sara a holiday?”
“Ah well, the thing is that Tracey retired last year, and Sara’s only working part time just now.” He busied himself with an electric kettle and an assortment of mugs, most of them with Vale logos and all of them chipped.
“Really? That must leave you a lot to do yourself.”
He shrugged. “Not so much. Things aren’t as busy as they used to be.”
“I can see that. There’s nobody else around, and everywhere’s locked up.”
Declan dumped teabags into mugs, then added milk and sugar in a slapdash fashion that left plenty of both outside the target area. I braced myself: some people can make a reasonable cup of tea, some can’t, and Declan was definitely in the latter group.
He sloshed boiling water into the mugs and gave them all a token stir before handing them round.
“I remember this as well,” said Sam, glancing round. “You used to bring me here sometimes when you had meetings.”
“Back when I was a trustee. We had our meetings in here!” I smiled. “I’d send you off to play in the sports hall if it was open, or outside if the weather was good.”
Sam grinned. “Oh, I could always get in the hall if I wanted to, open or not. Place was about as secure as a sieve. Any one of the local lads could tell you two or three ways of getting in – I could have told you half a dozen!”
Declan shook his head sadly. “We did try, but every time we sealed up one entrance, the lads found another! I gave up in the end, just locked away the valuables and let them have the run of the place.”
“One time,” Sam continued, “there wasn’t much happening, and I got curious about what you might be up to. So I did a bit of exploring. I discovered that if you go right into the back of the equipment storage in the hall, there’s a little door that lets you into the stationery storeroom behind the office. Comes out right behind the shelving, so hardly anyone knew it was there. But I could sneak up to the office door and spy on you through the keyhole!”
Declan laughed. “I’d forgotten about that door.”
“Very sneaky, son. I don’t suppose you learned anything of interest, though!”
“Only that meetings are boring. But I did have some fun joining all the paper clips together in a chain.”
“That was you? We couldn’t figure it out!” Declan shook his head. “I thought it must have happened in the factory. Wrote to the manufacturers to complain!”
“I only did it once!” Sam protested. “Or perhaps twice. Though I may have helped myself to a few bits and pieces, now and then.”
“Please, enough confessions,” I groaned. “I don’t want to know what a delinquent I raised.”
“Well, he seems to have turned out all right in spite of it, so he has. I hear you went globetrotting, Sam? You must have seen a few sights! Something more interesting than a trustees’ meeting, anyway!”
I’d noticed that, in all the reminiscing, Declan had managed to avoid properly answering my question about the staff. I wondered if I should pursue the point, but I didn’t want to get sidetracked.
“Yes, I’ve covered a bit of ground over the last few years.” Sam flashed his grin.
“Ever make it over to Ireland?”
“Sure. I hitchhiked from Belfast down to Dublin once. Never got over to the west coast, though. I want to do that sometime.”
I hadn’t known that Sam had been in Ireland. I only had a sketchy idea of where he had been.
“You should certainly do that!” Declan enthused. “And don’t forget to visit Derry either, finest city in all of Ireland!”
Declan, of course, was from there, though I don’t think he’d been back in years.
“And how are you, Dec?” I asked.
“Oh, not so bad, Graham, to be sure.” He sat back behind his desk. “A little older but no wiser! Glad to see you looking well, after all the troubles you’ve had. How is that fine young woman of yours?”
“Oh, Sandy’s doing well – very well considering.”
“It was a terrible thing, that fire. I could see it from here, like the whole town was ablaze! We were lucky, though. The wind took the smoke away from us. I couldn’t believe it when I heard that Sandy had been caught in it.” He shook his head. “Terrible thing,” he said again.
I took a cautious sip of tea, and found it every bit as bad as I’d feared. If I left it long enough, I’d be able to drink it quickly. “Indeed it was, though things could have been worse. Anyhow, Declan, the reason I dropped by was, I wondered if you’ve heard anything from Adi lately.”
He put down his mug, and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Well, not really, Graham. Why are you asking? Have you?” He shot a hopeful look in my direction. More than hopeful – perhaps even a bit desperate.
“That’s just it. I’m not sure. I saw someone a few days ago, and I thought it was him. Almost certain… but
on reflection, I don’t think it could have been. But I couldn’t get to him to make sure. So I wondered if he’d been here. After all, if Adi was back I’d expect him to come round.”
Declan was still staring at the ceiling. “Maybe. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I repeated back to him. “Come on, you know how important this place was to him. In the old days he was always dropping in to kick a ball round or do a few circuits in the gym.”
Declan took his eyes off the ceiling to give me a sideways look. “Yes, well, we all know he liked to show off a bit.” He raised a hand as if to ward off my objection. “I’m sorry, Graham. I know he was your friend. Mine as well, for that matter, but that was the truth of it. And after his accident, we hardly saw him. Unless the press were around for something special, then he’d put in an appearance. But apart from that…” He shrugged. “Perhaps you should talk to Karen.”
“I did that first. She hasn’t seen him or heard from him. And before you ask, I’ve been to the Castle as well, and he hasn’t been there either. So this is my last shot. If he hasn’t come here or at least contacted you, then it wasn’t Adi I saw.”
“Well, I can promise you that Adi hasn’t contacted me himself, and certainly hasn’t been here.” Declan glanced at me, then looked away.
Declan was no better at prevaricating than he was at making tea. I’d been sensing the ambiguity in his answers since we’d started the conversation.
“So what has Adi done?” I kept my tone neutral, not pushing. Pushy questions shut people up. But gentle ones give them the opportunity to open up, if they want to. And I sensed that Declan wanted to.
“I don’t know that he has done anything, exactly…”
“But?”
He sighed, and shook his head. “But if he’s not behind it, then he must know about it.”
I didn’t have to say anything else. Just kept my eyes on him and pretended to sip my tea.
“Well, you’ve seen the state of the place, haven’t you? We’re practically closed down. No staff, you see, apart from a few volunteers. I’m just around to answer the phone and open the place up for a few hours in the evening. That’s all we can manage lately.”
“How come?”
“You know the arrangement we had. Of course you do, you helped set it up. All the land and most of the buildings are in Adi’s name. He’s the owner. The charity – the sports centre – has the use of them for a token rent. Or at least so we did, up to a couple of years ago. Then, out of the blue, we had this letter from some firm of lawyers, saying that they were acting on behalf of the owner and that the rent was going up.”
“What? Adi started charging you rent? His own charity?”
“That’s what I’m telling you. Well, the lawyers did. Terrible shock, so it was, but we managed to get the money together, dug into the reserves, and so on. But then a few months ago it went up again. A lot. Full commercial rates – for all this land, all these buildings.”
I shook my head, aghast. “I didn’t know. I hadn’t a clue, Declan… why didn’t you say something?”
“You had troubles of your own, Graham. With your heart attack and then all that business with Sandy… and in any case the lawyers invoked some confidentiality clause that I didn’t even know existed. Nobody was allowed to know apart from myself and the trustees. I shouldn’t even be telling you this. Though you were a trustee, of course, and I suppose you’ve got a right to know about it, really. But the lawyers didn’t want it getting out. I asked if I could put out a special appeal for funds, tell our supporters why we needed extra help. They said no. I pointed out that if we didn’t get any extra income, they wouldn’t get the rent money. They said that if the charity defaulted, then the contract with Adi would be terminated and we would be evicted. I asked to speak to Adi directly. He wasn’t available.”
I sat and stared at him. “Eviction? They said that? But – can they?”
“They are doing. We’re already behind with the payments. Last week they informed us that myself and the trustees would be held personally liable for any outstanding debts. We’ve been summoned to a meeting this afternoon, to discuss the issue.”
Declan closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead. His hair, I noticed, had turned a lot thinner and greyer since I last saw him.
“See, Graham, I never kept much in reserve. I never saw the need to. What came in, I put back out. Wages, maintenance – if we had enough I sponsored promising kids for extra training, sent the more deprived ones on holiday, things like that. So now – we’ve nothing left. And if they insist on this personal liability thing…”
I stared at him, appalled. Declan didn’t look back. He kept his hands over his eyes, and I realized that he was struggling to keep it together. Not surprising. Dec was a good man, a staunch Roman Catholic who had loved being able to combine his faith with his love of sport by running the sports centre – a place that had made a huge difference to many individuals and to the whole community. It had been Declan’s life after he had to finish playing professionally.
“Personal liability?” I asked. “They said that?”
“They did. Along with a lot more legal language. We think – we hope – that if we agree to go quietly, sign over the remaining assets, and wind the charity up, then they won’t chase us for any outstanding debts. They’ve sort of hinted at that, in among all the legalese. But it’ll all come out at the meeting, I suppose.”
“Wait a minute… let’s think about this. What assets do you have? Have you got something you could bargain with?”
“Not really. Some office and sports equipment – most of it well used. Some memorabilia that might be of value to collectors. And there’s the barn, of course.”
“What’s the barn?” Sam had been sitting quietly and listening hard.
“Oh, your dad knows the barn, don’t you, Graham?” Declan gave me a wan smile.
I nodded. “It was the first building the charity had. Back when we first started this place, that was the only building here. Adi put in his own money to buy the land – it had been a sort of smallholding before – but the rest of us, the original trustees and a lot of the Vale players and supporters – we chipped in and bought the barn separately. Then we did it up ourselves as the first clubhouse. It had changing rooms and so on. Put a lot of graft into it, too. I painted most of the ceiling myself.”
“You got just as much paint on yourself,” said Declan. “And anyone who came near!” He mustered a smile at the memory, and I shared it with him.
“Yes, so DIY isn’t my strong point. But the point is, the barn itself is the property of the charity. Isn’t that worth something?”
“Not much. It’s been used for storage for years, since we got all the new buildings, and it’s not in a good state.”
“You did it up once – couldn’t you do that again?” Sam suggested. “Keep the charity going in a small way at least. Get the word round. I’m sure people would be glad to help out.”
Declan took a deep breath and put his hands down. “Even if we kept the barn, they could deny access to it, since they own all the land round it. And like I said, we can’t tell anyone, because of this confidentiality clause. They said that if word gets out, that’s another thing we’ll be held liable for. There will be ‘serious legal and financial consequences for any unauthorized disclosure of any and all matters pertaining…’ and so on.”
“But it’s bound to get out anyway, once you close down,” Sam pointed out.
“Yes. Too late then. And you’re probably thinking we could challenge that clause, but that would take time and money and lawyers, and we don’t have any of them.”
“Who’s this coming from, Declan?” I managed a genuine swallow of the tea. “The lawyers, I mean. Adi always used to use Swann and Chapel, I recall.”
“He did. But this is some new firm. New to me, anyhow…” Declan rummaged through the papers on his desk. “Here it is. Cornhall Lonza Hickon International. Big firm… the first letter we had from them the
y said they’d taken over all Adi’s legal affairs.”
I sat up so sharply that my cooling tea sloshed over my hand. “Lonza? Did you say Lonza?”
“That’s right. Why? Does that mean something to you?”
“I heard the name recently. He was in the bar where I thought I’d seen Adi.”
Declan frowned as he thought through the implications. “So if it was Adi – well, that confirms he’s working with these lawyers. Working to destroy his own charity! I… I just can’t understand that, Graham. This place – all we did here – it was part of his image. He was proud of that, proud of the standing it gave him in the community. Why would he decide to wreck it all?”
“Well – perhaps it wasn’t Adi?” An idea was growing in my mind, separate facts beginning to link together. “Like I said, I didn’t think it could have been, because he wasn’t limping. And this Lonza, he’s got a reputation – mixed up in some very dodgy business, apparently. So perhaps this is a scam. Perhaps he’s trying to get control of this land and wants the charity out. And he uses this law firm to put pressure on you, then if he trots out an Adi lookalike to make it all seem legitimate…”
“Yes! That would be a classic con, wouldn’t it?” said Sam. “They get you all wound up with these legal threats – then Adi turns up, tells you it’s going to be OK, that of course you’re not being held liable, and if you just sign it all over he’ll see that it’s sorted out and that you’ll be back to normal business in no time! Except that of course it isn’t Adi at all, and once you’ve signed you’ll never see him again.”
We both looked at Sam. I wanted to ask how he knew so much about con tricks, but Declan spoke first. “But why? I mean – why go to so much trouble to get control of the charity? What’s some big-shot American law firm bothering with us for?”
I had the answer to that. It had been growing in the back of my mind for a while. “Not the charity, Dec. The land. You said that this really started just a few months ago?”
Local Legend Page 5