by Peter Bates
With a grin, Harrison turned sharply and walked through the pub’s open front door. Outside, in the fading evening sunlight, Bob, Alan, Gary and Kenny were sitting around a large, trestle table that had been temporarily erected on the flagged stone floor. Their conversation abruptly ended as the gang leader approached.
“That’s one out of the way,” Harrison murmured as he took the remaining seat and stretched out his long legs.
“Did you get any hassle?” asked Alan.
“No. Not even a quibble.”
Gary tilted his head. “Did he ask about Thomas?”
“Not really. I explained to him the story that we had agreed beforehand, and he accepted it without a murmur. Whether he believed it or not I really don’t know. It doesn’t actually matter either way. We know that Thomas isn’t coming back.”
“I don’t suppose he had a lot of choice,” laughed Kenny.
“He didn’t, Kenny, and as well as that, it doesn’t really make any difference to him when you come to think about it. He was paying out that much money anyway.”
“Did you collect?” asked Alan.
“No, I didn’t. We can start it in a couple of weeks. It’s much better if he sees for himself that Jed Thomas is definitely not returning before we do that. We don’t want the guy to get into a flap. It’s not going to break us if we wait a little while longer, and that way everything goes along much smoother. We are definitely much better off with happy punters.”
Gary laughed. “It’s the way you tell ’em, boss.”
“What’s next?” asked Kenny.
“We can do a couple more today if we want to. There are two others close by around town that we could call on and sort out. I’m confident that they’ll all be at least as easy as that one. Once we’ve done those, we’ll have had a decent day, probably one of the best days ever.”
“I’ll go along with that.” nodded Alan, “So who’s next, Mel?”
“I just said that there were two others close by, but there’s also a guy I used to know several years ago, called Jim Eccles. He’s got a little fancy goods place just off the promenade. The bloke makes an absolute pile of money, and sells all the things that the holidaymakers want. A lot of his stuff is connected to the town itself, like plastic Blackpool Towers and mechanical toy Pleasure Beach rides. He’s even got some Monopoly boards that also relate to Blackpool and the surrounding area.”
“Was he one of Thomas’s punters?”
“No, he wasn’t. At least he’s not on the list that I’ve got.”
“Why him then?”
“I know him, he knows me, and he’ll also be well aware that you don’t mess around with Mel Harrison. He’ll be easy meat.”
“Are you sure he’s a good choice, seeing as he wasn’t on Jed Thomas’ collection list?”
“Yes, he’s a big lad, but he was always a softy. He’ll be fine for two hundred quid a month, just the same as Keith Turner. It’ll be very good for us to get hold of a few punters from scratch and not be reliant on just those that Thomas already had in his pocket. We’ll only get seven or eight months a year out of this guy though; his business does absolutely nothing between January and Easter time.”
Like Alan, Kenny was slightly confused with Harrison’s choice, but he also knew full well that to question it further could easily drive Harrison back into one of his former bad moods. At the moment, Harrison was unusually acceptable, quite pleasant and reasonably level headed. Being currently like that was definitely much more preferable than to be subjected to his constant mood swings and occasional physical violence. No, at least for now he would stay quiet.
“Who’s the other one, Mel?”
“The other guy’s one from the list. He was one of Thomas’s regulars. We’ll get to him after I’ve sorted out Jim Eccles. I’ll do Eccles myself, I don’t need any help with him. After that, I’ll call you and we’ll all go together for the next one.”
CHAPTER 66
The takings were increasing almost day by day, and Jim Eccles reckoned he’d got it just about right by now. At this rate, he’d be opening up at least one more shop, maybe somewhere fairly close by but around the town centre. There was no real rush to do it, he’d just wait for the right opportunity, and when it did arrive, he would grab it with both hands. Other people ran similar businesses to him, but none of them did it better than he did. The more volume of stuff that he sold, the cheaper his purchases of stock became. He could now buy in bulk and get larger quantities for lower prices. He gave Joe Public exactly what they wanted when they came on holiday. Great, inexpensive toys to keep the kids occupied, and colourful reminders of the sea, Blackpool, and all of its many features. It wasn’t exactly rocket science, but he seemed to do it better than anyone else in the area. Every person that spent money in his shop was given four or five vouchers to give to their friends, or to use themselves when they next came in. Each voucher entitled the user to obtain ten percent off their next purchase, and they all kept flooding into his shop. His prices were already competitive, but now, with the discounts, he couldn’t be beaten on price. It certainly seemed that anyone that ever came into his shop, never seemed to leave the building empty-handed. Everybody liked a bargain, and they all came back.
Oddly enough, Jim had even more spare time now than he’d ever previously experienced. The success of the business meant that he could employ a number of trusted part-timers to fill in the time when he wasn’t there. Nowadays, he could go to the local gym several times a week and work out. That was something that he’d wanted to do for all of his life, and now at last it was possible. At thirty-five years of age, he was in better shape than he’d ever been in his whole existence, and had never felt happier. Today, was very much like every other day. As long as the weather was reasonable, the bright array of coloured lights outside his shop always brought in a steady stream of new customers. Standing silently by his sales counter, he looked up expectantly as yet another customer walked in through the open shop door and shut it behind him. Jim Eccles’ eyes immediately and unusually darkened as they focused on the incoming face.
Why would Mel Harrison come into his shop?
Apprehensively, Jim watched as Harrison strode directly to the shop counter and extended a hand to him. Jim reluctantly took it, shook it briefly, and then walked around the counter to face Harrison.
“Long time no see,” he said quietly.
Harrison smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes. “Yes, Jim. It’s been a while.”
“What brings you in here today?” asked Jim blandly.
Harrison turned away from him for a moment, his eyes briefly scanning the shop for any customers. There were none in sight, and he’d quietly turned the ‘OPEN’ sign around on the entrance door as he had entered. Outside, any potential new customers would now only see the ‘CLOSED’ sign.
“I’ve come in to talk a little business.”
“Oh?” said Jim, looking directly into his eyes. “You’re in the fancy goods business, are you now?”
“No, mate. But I need to have a little talk with you.”
“What about?”
“Shall we sit down?”
“No, Mel. You’d better get on with it because I’m a very busy man.”
Harrison shrugged and stared into Jim Eccles’ blue eyes. “OK,” he said. “I’ll get straight to the point. You’ve got a good business here, Jim, and I want that to continue for you.”
“It will do, Mel,” said Jim flatly.
“Maybe not. You must know that there are a lot of bad buggers around here, and we’ve heard of some that are demanding protection money from owners in order to keep their businesses safe.”
Jim Eccles almost smiled, but somehow managed to hold it back. Harrison’s statement was very rich coming from someone like him. Jim knew full well all there was to know about Harrison, his crew, and exactly what he and they did for a living.
“Why are you here then?”
“I’m here today in order to offe
r you a really good deal, Jim. These bad gangs are heavy duty, and they’ll charge you several hundred a week to keep you safe.”
Jim stepped from behind the counter and approached Harrison.
“Not from me they won’t.”
“You don’t understand, Jim. If they’ve not been here already, they will be very soon, and if you don’t agree to their terms, they’ll absolutely trash your business.”
“No, they won’t!”
“Believe me, Jim, they will. I think that I need to get to the point, don’t I? Me and my lads will guarantee to take care of the problem for just two hundred quid a month — not the five or six hundred that some of the others would charge you. I know full well that two hundred is nothing to you, but it will give you absolute peace of mind, and your successful business can easily stand that.”
Jim Eccles fell silent for a moment, his eyes still glued to those of Mel Harrison’s.
He glanced past Harrison’s head, and immediately spotted the ‘OPEN’ sign on the door now facing inwards. Through the glass, there were no visible signs of any of Harrison’s other gang members outside the building. Certainly at least for the moment, his unwelcome visitor was unusually alone. Jim’s anger grew to an intensity that he’d never known before as his eyes flashed back to the face of the man now standing just inches away from his own. Jim Eccles’ right hand clenched tightly into a fist, and without any hesitation, he swung it fiercely into Harrison’s jaw.
Harrison crumpled to the floor, and lay still. Jim Eccles allowed himself a brief smile, and then suddenly glanced upwards at the security camera fixed into the top corner of the room, praying that its tiny power light was still on and flashing. His smile returned, then he picked up the phone and pressed three of its numbered buttons.
*
Norman Pendleton had taken the urgent call from Frank Lloyd immediately. Although Norman had been conducting a briefing with some of his officers at the time, he well knew that any call coming in from Frank would not be wasting his time. Surprisingly, on this occasion, Frank didn’t request help or information from him; the old guy was providing him with some knowledge that was nothing less than sensational. At first, Norman really thought that Frank was pulling his leg until some of the detail emerged during the brief conversation. After that, the information resulting from the call took absolute priority over everything else, and the briefing of his men certainly had to take second place.
He was now on the road in an unmarked vehicle, closely followed by two others. One was similar to his own, the second a large van containing several of his forensics team and readily portable equipment. If the information from Frank Lloyd’s tracker was correct, he and his team would be parking at the edge of the wood on the fringes of the Lake District in less than ten minutes, where Frank would meet them.
“Step on it, Don.”
“OK, Chief. We’re getting close now. Maybe just five or six minutes maximum.”
“Good lad. Look out for four old guys by the edge of a wood. As soon as you spot them, park up as close as possible.”
Norman leaned forward in his seat, his eyes glued to the road ahead. The last thing he wanted was to miss them, and time was very often valuable under circumstances like this. The car swung round a sharp bend in the country lane, and Norman responded immediately.
“That’s them, Don. Pull up right behind that car on the left.”
Norman was out of the car before Don had pulled on the handbrake. Frank, Roy, Terry and Reg had already moved close to the front passenger door and were holding out their hands in greeting to him.
“Hey, guys! Good to see you all. What have you got for me today?”
“Follow me Norman,” said Frank. “We’ve got about one hundred yards to walk, then we’ll show you what we’ve found.”
Frank led the way into the wood, he and his pals taking care to leave minimum tracks as they walked on the grassy edges of the path. Eighty yards along the route, Frank halted and pointed at a huge, ancient oak tree. On its huge stem was nailed an old weather-beaten plaque.
“That’s where the bogus meeting should have taken place. I’ll explain to you later what I mean by that.”
Skirting the direct path to the tree, Frank led the group to a number of very thick bushes nearby, again using a roundabout route. He waited for a few seconds until Norman’s team were alongside him.
“If you move behind these bushes, Norman. You’ll find a patch of land where the surface soil has been disturbed. We didn’t know at the time exactly what we would find, if anything, but we very carefully dug a hole into the ground, and kept all the loose soil from the hole in one place, as you can see. We do know for certain that at least one body has been buried there, and we strongly suspect that there are others in the same place. We are virtually convinced that the bodies are those of the Jed Thomas gang, and that Mel Harrison and his crew must have finished them off. Scattered around this area just here, there are several shell casings which us lads deliberately haven’t touched or removed.”
Frank paused for a moment.
“As well as all that, Norman, we do know for certain that Harrison’s car was parked close by to this spot, and I’ve still got that information on my tracking device which details the time and place. If you can tie in the guns and bullets to Harrison and his crew, you’ll have a cast iron case, even without all the forensics that must be around this spot and on the bodies. Later, I’ll show you where Harrison was parked and you might just get a set of matching wheel marks as well.”
“Bloody hell, Frank. I need to get you lads back on the job permanently. You’re all simply amazing.”
Frank laughed. “I really wish that we were too, Norman. The only thing is, I’m certain that we’d all be totally knackered if we had to do this for a living these days.”
“A lot more crimes would be solved though.”
“Maybe, Norman, maybe. By the way, is it OK for us to hang around a while over there whilst you guys do some digging? It would be really good for us oldies to know for sure that it actually is Jed Thomas and his crew under the ground.”
“Of course, you and the lads can. Just stay on that patch of grass over there and you can all take as long as you like.”
Norman Pendleton moved closer to the large bushes, then signalled his men close to the area where the earth had been disturbed. Each of them was now suited in a white plastic overall and a hood, and in their gloved hands each held evidence bags and small trowels. The first man to arrive near to the designated spot was clutching a camera, and he slowly completed a full circuit of the scene, taking a number of shots from varying angles as he carefully moved around it. When he had completed those, he took another series of more general shots at the trees and land that surrounded the area, including the old oak tree close by. Another of the team held a metal detector in his hand, and after switching it on, began to perform slow sweeps of the surrounding ground both under and around the large bushes.
“Now, we just wait and see,” said Terry.
“I guess so,” agreed Reg. “It certainly looks as though we’ve gone as far as we can on this one, especially now that these guys are involved.”
“Probably,” agreed Roy. “You never know, though. As we lads are well aware, Reg, sometimes things just happen or turn up just when you are least expecting it. I guess that they’ll be picking up Harrison very soon, though. And that more or less, should be that.”
The forensic team laid out a huge plastic sheet on the grass, close to the disturbed ground. After gently scraping the earthy surface, each man patiently lifted small sections of soil, and deposited them on the sheet. It was a slow, painstaking process, but gradually, the hole opened up.
“How’s it going, Tony?” asked Pendleton, looking at the officer holding the metal detector.
“Good, boss. I’ve managed to recover four shell casings so far. They’re all bagged up and safe in the van.”
“Did you get Charlie to photograph them first?”
“Come on, boss. Would I not do that? He’s got photos from several different directions on each one of them that show exactly where they were located in the undergrowth. He’s also got several photos of shoe prints leading from various surrounding bushes to the area that we’re digging. Some are not so good, but some are excellent.”
“Good, lad.”
“These boys are all spot on,” commented Roy, after listening in to Norman’s brief conversation.
“Yes,” agreed Terry. “I’m sure that the technology available improves every year. It’s very unlikely that these lads would miss anything. They can pick up microscopic evidence these days that we would probably have missed in our time.”
Ten feet from where the four old lads were standing, Norman Pendleton’s phone rang. With an irritated expression on his face, he tugged it from his pocket, stared angrily at the screen, and finally clicked the button. Terry sharply nudged Frank and Reg forward a couple of feet, and quickly pointed a finger in Norman’s direction.
“I told you fellas that I was busy,” Pendleton said loudly, holding the phone close to his mouth as he spoke. For a few seconds he listened to the response, then added, “You’ve what?” his eyes opening wide as he asked the question. “Where?”
Pendleton listened in silence to the response, before asking two further questions. “Are you sure that it’s him? Was he on his own? Being on his own is very unusual,” he finally stated after a short positive reply to each of his questions. “The job I’m on at the moment is definitely priority, Jake, so I won’t be around for a while. I’m certainly not going to lose any sleep over what you’ve just told me. Send Sergeant Wilkins to the hospital and tell him to get a statement from Harrison. I guarantee now that he’ll get a stream of ‘No comments’ anyway, but we have to at least be seen to make some sort of an effort. It’s not as if that bloke is of concern to anybody. By the way, have we any clues about the guy that did it?”
Pendleton listened to the response for several seconds.