Cherry Picking

by Tim Heath

  And the hole that would be left by such a man’s downfall, Brendan would be only too happy to fill, having been very much the right hand man in all the business dealings anyway. He had been the contact through the years and it would be easy to just pick up the reins and carry on.

  Brendan Charles walked back to the office a contented man, feeling alive again with the turn things were taking, only too aware of how careful he now had to be not to give anything away, having no idea of the extent of control that Nigel Gamble had on his everyday life.

  **********

  Nigel Gamble lay in bed late that night unable to sleep, those last words of Robert now eating into his soul like poison. He’d been trying to sleep for nearly two hours and got up restlessly, walking over to a drinks cabinet and pouring himself a very large whisky. He walked over to the window. In the distance through the pitch black he could see the torch light of the various security personnel as they walked around the perimeter, outside of the wire fence way beyond his own private walled garden. Beyond those guards in the adjoining field out of sight at that time of night sat his own private runway, two small planes in the open and his own jet in the hangar. The air crew were not around at the moment, making themselves available whenever he required them, spending the rest of their time doing air tours over the city for tourists out of a business operating in a town thirty miles away. They could be summoned and on site within about twenty minutes but usually Nigel would have them told much more in advance than that.

  It was only now, at that late hour of the day with his drink in his hand as he stood and looked out over his estate, most of it hidden by the darkness, that he thought about having to give it all up, and the thought made him sick inside. But it all made sense really if he wanted to stay hidden. There were other places he could go, other countries that in time would become home. Most of his wealth was of course completely liquid and could go wherever he went.

  And so the thought and conviction started to grow — he needed to move on and move on quickly. Once gone from the shores of England, there were several possibilities that he had open to him and he drew a strange satisfaction from these thoughts as he sat down in his rocking chair, taking the occasional gulp of drink, until it was empty. Not long after that he was sound asleep.

  Chapter 23

  The roads were quite clear at that time of the morning and Robert was really enjoying the prospect of finally meeting to talk with Brendan Charles. It was his first run into the city since he’d gone to lie low for a while, having needed things to cool down a little. And while it was still a risk, some of the main players had since changed sides which surely would make things a whole lot easier.

  Having said that, he wasn’t going to take any unnecessary risks that day and changed his appearance as much as possible, wearing baggy, loose fitting clothes and a cap to top it off. It was in fact quite a transformation from his usual smart fitted wardrobe. Bearing in mind that the only photo circulating, as far as he knew, on all those wanted posters, was not a very good likeness, he felt it was safe to assume that no one would think the two faces were indeed the same person that morning.

  For the first hour of the morning he hadn’t seen a single vehicle as he completed the rural section of the journey before hitting the more built up areas and the traffic that always accompanies them.

  Robert had settled on a busy and noisy shopping area for his first meeting with Brendan and he felt it would work on many levels. Firstly being noisy it should stop anyone from being able to listen in, but also, as Robert still had to be careful that he wasn’t walking into a trap, he could scan the situation from some height first. The crowds of people would also add some protection should things, for any reason, turn nasty. But he really didn’t think they would and was therefore looking forward to the chance to chat with such a key individual and someone so closely connected to his target.

  Arriving at the shopping centre having been just over two hours on the road, Robert pulled the car into the high multi-story car park joined to the shopping centre. He was twenty minutes early for their nine o’clock meeting which was ideal as it would give him a little time to watch things from up there in the car park, making sure that Brendan was in fact alone and not bringing a team of people with him.

  Twenty minutes later Robert was running down the stairs, having watched Brendan all the way in and seeing the man very much alone, almost as watchful as he was, clearly feeling equally vulnerable. He realised Brendan had just as much on the line now as he had.

  They greeted each other warmly and there was almost respect flowing from Brendan back to Robert as they chatted about their journeys in, soft and safe conversation that just darted around the edges while they warmed to one another.

  An hour later at a table covered with empty coffee cups and a plate that had had a few pastries on, but now only crumbs remaining, Brendan sat back in his chair amazed at what he had just been told. Robert had simply come out with everything, taking it very slowly and allowing each piece of information to be digested. Robert told the story in such a way that it was fact based, and crazy as it all sounded, let alone impossible to a mind like Brendan’s, he had been captivated by it and on a strange level it all made sense.

  Robert had then gone into some detail on why Nigel would have picked him in the first place, making some general but light references to how Brendan might have been had he never met Nigel, but it seemed pointless to Robert to paint too much of a picture because as things stood, it was now just a life that no longer existed.

  Brendan sat there in his chair speechless for a few minutes while he processed what he had just heard. Robert gave him time, pouring the last drop of coffee and signalling to the young waitress for yet another pot. She darted into life again, smiling back at him as she went to the counter to make it.

  “A month ago, you know, I’d be calling the hospital now, assuming you were some nut case. But now?” Brendan shook his head, raising his eyes to somewhere in the sky, no real fixed point, as if words just failed him at that moment to fully express what he was thinking. He continued:

  “I guess it all makes so much sense though. I kept telling myself that he just didn’t seem to have that business genius about him and yet I saw him time and time again making money from nothing, so after a while I just stopped myself and put it down to…,” he thought hard for the right word, “luck, I guess?” But he wasn’t sounding too convinced by that.

  “But it wasn’t luck, or genius, or anything like that,” Robert said.

  “No, hardly. Just…,” again words failing him. He hadn’t been this lost for words in a long time. “Just...fake? Fake in the sense that he pretends he’s one type of business minded person but actually nothing is a risk to him. I’m a CEO of a massive insurance company. I always wondered what his process was, you know. He would always personally approve every piece of new business and he’d tell us which firms to approach giving us hugely generous discounts to offer them in order to get the business. And now I guess he was just checking that they didn’t have a claim in that coming year? It’s quite clever really, on some levels. Hardly an insurance issue though. Total premium, no claims expenses!”

  “You are forgetting all the lives he’s ruined in the process. He’s stopped at nothing to get what he wants. You should see how things have changed where I come from.”

  Brendan had almost forgotten all about what Robert had said of himself.

  “Oh, of course, you came back as well. What does life offer you? Don’t you miss home?”

  “That’s just the point. Home now is nothing, it doesn’t exist. Everyone I knew has changed. They don’t know any different, for them it’s now reality, it’s only because I’m here that I get to notice what’s changed. My job doesn’t exist and I had no family anyway. I guess this is the only thing I have left that hasn’t changed, my pursuit of Nigel. The world is definitely changing for the worse though. You know the financial crisis that hit the world at the end of the last decade, well b
efore Nigel came back there was no crisis. All his greed led the world, everyone, into melt-down.”

  Brendan shook his head in amazement.

  “It’s funny. When the world was losing its head and businesses were falling by the day, I thought how safe we were thanks to Nigel Gamble’s financial backing. In so many industries his group saw many competitors go bust in that time and some of these he bought up cheaply, basically profiting from the mess he’d created himself. Unbelievable!”

  They paused while the waitress placed the pot of fresh coffee onto the table.

  “But what’s in it for you then, Robert? I mean if you say your job has gone, you have no home, what does victory look like? It’s not like you can change the future again.”

  “It’s a question I ask myself all the time but never want to answer.” Robert took his time pouring out a fresh cup of coffee while he thought for another moment. “Everything in me drives me on to finish the task I came back here for. There was no knowing how all this would have worked out, it was all so new to us at the time and yet in his twenty years head-start on us, Nigel Gamble has done a good job of hiding himself, at covering his path and as much as possible, eliminating any threat from his future. So what does victory look like? I don’t know, I really don’t. All I can do is get to Nigel.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then,” Robert paused, looking up and into Brendan’s eyes with no emotion at all showing, “kill him, of course!”

  “And then what?”

  “Now that is a question I’ve never asked myself. I don’t know, really. I feel I’m in so deep that I might never make it back to the surface.”

  “A suicide mission then?”

  “No, it wasn’t what I signed up for. It was all so new. What he did when he came back changed everything. As soon as we got the other Door working I came through in pursuit, using the Agency to report back to but before too long they were changing but weren’t aware of it so I went it alone, working things out for myself, writing loads of things down so as to be able to track the changes. That’s what led me to you, of course.”

  “So where do we go from here?”

  Robert was really enjoying the chat, the company. Especially so now that Brendan used the word ‘we’. At last Robert had someone on the inside and he was encouraged by Brendan’s acceptance of the situation and willingness to try and help put things right.

  “I have one or two ideas,” Robert started and they chatted happily for the next fifty minutes.

  **********

  Tommy Lawrence awoke to hearing crashing around in the kitchen, the smell of bacon confirming that Jessica was cooking breakfast in a noisy fashion. He got out of bed, pulled on his robe and went downstairs to join her.

  She smiled as she saw him, busily frying an egg while a pot of fresh morning tea brewed on the dining room table that had been carefully set already. Toast, in a toast rack he didn’t even know he had, was sitting in the middle of the table, neatly circled by an assortment of jams and marmalade with real butter on a plate by the side.

  Tommy went over and hugged her while she worked busily at the stove, wearing one of his sports shirts that she’d obviously taken from his cupboard, she was yet to properly unpack, her belongings being delivered there sometime later that day. She reached up to a cupboard to grab a can of beans, baring her middle and Tommy couldn’t resist playfully touching her waist. Jessica jumped, the experience of the other morning still haunting her, but she quickly gained composure, remembering the fact it was her Tommy, and she turned round and kissed him passionately on the lips.

  “You have that look in your eye, Thomas! Breakfast is nearly ready, let’s deal with that appetite first, shall we?”

  He pulled away in a childlike fashion, playing up deliberately, pretending to be an upset child and sticking his bottom lip out, before smiling, laughing and turning around to sit down.

  They ate well, enjoying the morning. Tommy really appreciated all the effort she’d gone to. In turn Jessica really wanted to make an effort, so happy was she to be there, feeling so safe within his care.

  Tommy got ready, needing to go into the club as there were some important things to do, but he promised to be home for lunch. Jessica was going to stay home, waiting for her things to arrive and doing a general clean up of the house, amazed at herself by how domesticated she now felt.

  They kissed each other lovingly and Tommy left.

  **********

  The roads had been much busier and progress a lot slower as Robert made his way back to the village. There was even a bit of local traffic around for the final stretch as the afternoon pushed on.

  Robert had left his meeting with Brendan feeling very positive, gaining, he felt, a very real support in the process and with it the sense that things had taken a turn in his favour, for once. Robert pulled off the main village road and up his driveway. He straight away heard the barking of a dog in the distance up towards the house and saw Katie Taylor’s dog appear, running towards the car as he neared home. Katie herself had been sitting on the doorstep, obviously waiting for him, and she started to rise as Robert pulled the car in close and came to a stop, the dog now resting his two front legs on the side window, tongue out and tail wagging as he looked inside at Robert.

  Katie had her head bowed, but it was clear she had been crying, a scrunched up tissue held to her face. It was only when Robert was out of the car, patting the dog’s head as it raced around him in circles, and walking towards her that he noticed all the bruising on her arms, cuts as well, and she lowered her hand from her weeping eyes to reveal a badly beaten face, both eyes bruised heavily and her top lip split.

  Robert gasped in horror and actually put his hand to his mouth as he got close to her. He took her in an embrace and held her close. He started taking pieces of what looked like hay from her hair before he noticed blood there also. Clearly she’d been hit with something quite hard.

  After a few minutes she pulled herself away and looked at him.

  “Who did this to you Katie?”

  Robert feared he already knew the answer.

  “I’ve never seen him like this, never this bad before. It was that stupid storm,” she said, starting to cry again. “He was out of town with the dog and I was meant to be doing the laundry. That tree came right through the utility room, so when he arrived home and found out, instead of being glad I wasn’t dead he started shouting, asking where I’d been. I didn’t know what to say.”

  “What did you say?” Robert pressed, starting to feel a little alarmed.

  “That I was helping Norman with some rounds.”

  “And don’t tell me, by the way he hit you he didn’t buy it, is that right?”

  “Right,” she said very quietly, her body shaking as she cried. “And now I don’t have anywhere else to go. What am I to do?” Robert wasn’t sure and having her here was just too risky, but the last thing he wanted was to be seen talking to her in front of the house, so he got the door open and they went inside, the dog running about smelling the furniture before lying in the middle of the lounge on the big rug.

  Robert grabbed the first aid box that he’d bought but never used, pouring some antiseptic onto a fresh clump of cotton wool and dabbing her face gently with it.

  After that he took a look at her head, but it didn’t look like it was too serious, though only after she’d washed the blood out could he be perfectly sure.

  Once he’d cleaned her up a bit, she sat down in his chair and he laid a blanket over her to keep her warm, before making her a hot drink.

  “I might be wanting something stronger than that in a minute,” she said, clearly much more with it again now, smiling at him as he put the drink down next to her on the table.

  “Help yourself,” he said, pointing to a tall cupboard against the wall that obviously housed the alcohol. “I’m just going to pop out and check on Norman. I shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Be careful. If Norman has said anything then�
�,” she trailed off.

  “I know, but don’t worry. Norman is the pillar of this community. And besides, he wouldn’t say anything even if the Pope walked in off the street!”

  She smiled, but not for long, pain from her face making it hard to smile because of the cuts and bruising.

  He picked up his keys again and raced out to the car. The truth was he didn’t know what to expect and if that thug had gone to Norman’s in that mood, there was no knowing what he could have done.

  Pulling up outside the shop five minutes later, there were no obvious signs of trouble, the front door closed and the street quiet, with no other cars around.

  It was only when he went inside the shop that he knew something was wrong, the previously crowded but neatly stacked shelves had been wrecked, cans and broken bottles all across the floor, glass everywhere and no sign of Norman. Robert called out but heard no answer. He stepped over the debris carefully, not wanting to break anything else, though that was unlikely, as it all looked ruined. ‘What will Norman say?’ he thought to himself. And then, as he approached the back, he saw two legs on the floor, Norman lying down very still in the back corridor, facing the floor, a hand to his chest. Robert reached down to check for a pulse but his body was already cold and there was none to be found.

  “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill the beast!” he swore under his breath.

  He got up and quickly left the shop. As he approached the car and opened the door, he noticed a figure just up the road, some fifty metres or so walking towards him. He paused for just a moment, recognising Sam Taylor’s big angry frame. He had spotted Robert and obviously taking his presence there as some kind of confirmation of guilt, started to trot towards him, arms raised with what looked like a metal pole in his hands, racing now towards him.