by Jim Reeves
Chapter 38
Vince drove to the end of the street near the parking area and swung the car smoothly around in a tight arc to face the opposite way. Joe held the gun against the back of his head the whole time.
‘Let’s go,’ Joe said.
At the end of the street Vince turned left and cruised a short distance along Broad Street before making another left turn into the alley alongside the Fat Katz Club.
Vince stopped the car and waited.
‘Take the keys out and drop them on the floor,’ ordered Joe. He didn’t want Vince to try some kind of quick getaway when he was halfway out of the car. Vince did as he was told. Slowly, still weighing up the chances. Not liking the odds yet. His face looked like hewn granite when he turned to look at Joe.
‘Get out,’ Joe told him. ‘Make it slow. Very slow.’
They both got out of the car and Joe backed well away again, still aiming the gun.
‘Better get your friend,’ he said.
Vince went to the boot, opened it and heaved Pete out.
‘Let’s get inside,’ Joe said. ‘I want to see the main man.’
Vince lifted Pete onto his shoulder and walked towards the rear door of the club. Joe stood well back holding the gun at arm’s length while Vince unlocked the door. He moved quickly forward as Vince went inside. Vince was still looking around, weighing every angle. Joe touched Vince’s ear with the gun. ‘Put him down,’ he rasped.
Vince dropped Pete on the floor almost as heavily as Joe had done earlier. Joe threw the roll of tape to Vince.
‘Take the tape off his feet and tape them again.’
Vince hesitated and looked at Joe.
‘Now,’ Joe told him.
Pete appeared to be unconscious but Joe moved away slightly in case he sprang to life when his feet were free. Vince peeled the tape from around Pete’s feet and started to apply tape from the second roll.
‘Nice and tight,’ Joe said. ‘Make sure he’s cosy.’
Vince finished taping Pete’s feet and looked at Joe.
‘Now the arms,’ Joe said. ‘Get the tape off and do the job again.’
Vince removed the tape as ordered and then re-taped Pete’s hands and arms.
‘Nice and tight,’ Joe reminded him. ‘Use the whole roll.’
When he was finished, Vince straightened up and looked at Joe. Joe was happy that Pete wouldn’t be going anywhere. He kicked the discarded tape to one side.
‘Now we’ll go see the boss man,’ Joe told Vince. He waved the gun and Vince walked down the corridor towards George Bishop’s office.
Joe closed in behind Vince and nudged him in the back with the gun as they reached Bishop’s door.
‘No sudden moves.’
Vince entered without knocking. Joe followed close behind.
Bishop was studying a computer screen. He looked round as Vince entered.
‘What kept you?’ He asked. His jaw dropped when he saw Joe with the gun. ‘Joe,’ he said, recovering his composure and forcing a smile.
‘Surprised to see me?’ Joe asked, closing the door.
‘I was kind of expecting you. I had a call from Otto Braun saying you might be on your way.’
‘When was that?’ Joe frowned, thinking maybe Braun had escaped from the Mercedes.
‘Few days ago,’ Bishop said. ‘Said you’d gone missing. He was worried you might have got lost in the snow. I hear it’s pretty wild out there this time of year.’
‘You could say that,’ Joe nodded.
‘Haven’t heard from him since Wednesday,’ Bishop continued. ‘You know where he’s got to?’
‘Probably chilling out somewhere even as we speak,’ Joe suggested.
‘Not a man to cross is Otto,’ Bishop said.
‘I’ll try to remember that,’ Joe nodded.
Bishop frowned. ‘What’s the gun for?’
‘Gives me a warm feeling,’ Joe told him.
‘How was the trip?’
‘Like you said, pretty wild and cold,’ Joe said.
Joe moved away from Vince so that he could cover Bishop as well with the gun.
Bishop clicked the mouse to shut down his computer and turned to face Joe. ‘You seen the time?’ He asked. We was just packing up for the night.’
‘My timing was always crap.’ Joe shrugged. ‘Anyway, Vince was just round at my place.’
All the time Vince glared at Joe.
‘Thought I’d pop back with him and say hello.’
‘Didn’t think guns was your style,’ Bishop said.
‘Scare the shit out of me, if I’m honest,’ admitted Joe.
‘Well put the bloody thing down and have a drink,’ Bishop said.
‘I’ll keep the gun but a drink would be good. Whisky. Plenty of ice’
Bishop nodded to Vince who went to the drinks cabinet.
‘What can I do for you?’ asked Bishop looking at Joe.
‘You owe me some money,’ Joe said. He sat in a chair facing Bishop, still pointing the gun.
Joe aimed the gun at Vince as he put two drinks on the desk. He knew Vince was still looking for any chance to jump him.
‘Now sit over there,’ Joe told him pointing at a chair a safe distance away against the far wall.
Vince sat down several feet away from Joe, still glowering, clenching and unclenching his fists.
‘We’ve got an interesting situation here,’ Joe smiled. ‘I’m with two blokes who want me dead only I’ve got the gun. What do we do?’
‘I wish you’d put that thing down for a start,’ Bishop said uneasily. ‘You know how to use it?’
‘Not had a lot of practice,’ Joe said.
‘Well be careful, you could hurt somebody.’
‘The money,’ Joe reminded him.
‘No problem. I’ve got it in the safe. What is it? Three hundred?’
‘Bit more than that.’
‘How come?’ Bishop looked surprised.
‘Additional expenses. We can talk it through if you like, but I don’t have any VAT receipts.’
‘What’s this all about?’ frowned Bishop
‘Ask your trained gorilla,’ Joe said, nodding at Vince. ‘Made a right mess of my front door.’
For the first time Vince smiled and nodded contentedly.
‘I hope you don’t think . . . .’ Bishop said.
‘Matter of fact, I do,’ Joe said. He raised the Magnum and pointed it at Bishop. ‘You sent me to Austria expecting me not to come back.’
‘I obviously underestimated you,’ Bishop said.
‘Big time,’ Joe nodded. ‘So now I’m back what are you going to do about it?’
‘I’m going to offer you a job. If you can walk Vince in here at the end of a gun, you’re good.’
‘You forgot Pete,’ Joe told him.
Bishop darted a glance at Vince. ‘Where is Pete?’
‘Down the hall taking a nap,’ Joe said.
Bishop looked genuinely impressed. ‘I really did underestimate you,’
‘You got any more troops out after me?’ asked Joe.
‘I thought Vince and Pete would be enough.’ Bishop shook his head.
‘How many people have you sent out to Austria before me?’
Bishop thought for a moment. ‘A few.’
‘How many have come back?’
‘None lately.’
‘Lately?’
‘Some smart arse thought he saw a chance to make a few quid extra,’ Bishop explained. ‘Tried to put the squeeze on Braun.’ He shook his head. ‘Dangerous thing to do.’
‘So Braun got rid of him?’
Bishop nodded. ‘Nasty piece of work when he wants to be. Since then he’s been a bit paranoid. Likes to tie up loose ends.’
‘And I was a loose end?’
‘’That’s how Braun saw it,’ Bishop said.
‘You didn’t feel the need to warn me?’ Joe said.
‘Didn’t want to worry you. Thought it might spoil your trip. Anyway,
I could see you was the resourceful type.’
‘Your friend Braun tried to freeze my balls off.’
‘He hates the sight of blood,’ nodded Braun mournfully. ‘I’m the same myself.’
‘Who do you usually use as your messenger boys?’ asked Joe.
‘There’s always plenty of losers round the club.’ Bishop shrugged. ‘Offer them a few quid and a free trip abroad and they snatch your hand off.’
‘Like I did?’
‘You turned up just when I had some stuff to send over. Seemed like a good idea.’
‘Glad you think so,’ Joe said. He stared at Bishop for a moment. ‘Did you send Bill Pearson to Austria?’
‘You know Bill Pearson?’ Bishop looked surprised. He glanced at Vince who frowned in slow motion.
‘His name came up in conversation a few days ago,’ Joe said. ‘Then I saw his passport in Otto Braun’s study.’
Bishop paused before answering. ‘Yes. I sent him,’ he said slowly.
‘Was he one of your losers?’
‘Not so much but he did have one bad night on the tables and lost big money. I offered to write it off if he delivered a package for me.’
‘How much did he lose?’ asked Joe.
‘Ten grand,’ Bishop told him.
‘That’s a lot to write off just to deliver a package.’
‘Monopoly money.’ Bishop said. ‘It’s not real till it’s in your hand. Besides, I knew his Missus would be grateful.’
‘You know his wife?’ Joe looked surprised.
Vince smirked.
‘Nice lady,’ nodded Bishop smugly. ‘And she was very grateful, believe me.’
Bishop seemed pleased with himself. He looked at Vince again who was smiling now.
Joe raised the gun and pointed it directly at Bishop’s head. ‘Tell me more,’ he whispered.
A look of real fear came to Bishop’s face. ‘Calm down,’ he stammered. ‘I’ve known Eileen Pearson for years. Long before she met her old man.’
‘But she knew about his gambling debt?’ asked Joe.
Bishop nodded.
‘And she showed her gratitude?’
Bishop didn’t answer. He stared nervously at the gun.
‘Did she know you sent him to Austria?’
‘She knew he was doing a job for me. Didn’t give her too many details. ’
‘Even though you were friends, you sent her old man on a one way trip?’
Bishop nodded imperceptibly. ‘She asked me to.’
‘Why would she do that?’ asked Joe, disbelievingly.
‘You’d have to ask her. Maybe he was cramping her style. I don’t know.’
‘You screwing her?’ asked Joe.
‘Like I said, we’re old friends,’ Bishop said, evasively.
‘So, yes,’ Joe concluded. He frowned, remembering the weeping woman who had pleaded with him to find her husband. Finding it hard to place her as a friend of George Bishop. Hard to believe she knew what had happened.
‘What’s Eileen Pearson to you?’ asked Bishop.
‘I met her last week,’ Joe said. ‘She seemed pretty cut up about her husband.’
‘Got to keep up appearances.’ Bishop shrugged. ‘I’ll give her a call in the morning. I’ll soon put a smile on her face.’
‘Always the optimist.’ Joe smiled. He stared at Bishop for several seconds. ‘The last few days, I’ve had a lot of grief. I’ve been spat on, sat on, shat on, shot at, half drowned and frozen like a kipper. I’ve been in the company of some very bad people. Call me a miserable git if you like but I don’t like it.’
‘Things got out of hand,’ Bishop said, apologetically. ‘Didn’t turn out as I meant them to.’
‘You mean I’m still breathing?’ smiled Joe.
‘We can sort it out,’ Bishop assured him. ‘There’s always a deal to be done.’
‘No deals,’ Joe whispered softly. ‘The first time I turn my back, Einstein over there, would crack my skull open.’ He nodded at Vince,
‘I give you my word . . . .’
‘You can shove your word,’ snapped Joe.
‘So what do you want?’ Asked Bishop, still staring at the gun. Probably not wanting an answer.
‘Have you ever been cold?’ asked Joe in little more than a whisper. ‘Never mind brass monkeys. I mean really cold. I mean freezing so hard you know you’re going to die no matter what.’ He spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. ‘Outside in the dark. Strapped to a chair. Sub-zero temperatures. Snow falling. So cold you feel like you might bleed right through your skin. So cold you can feel your lungs seizing up. All that clean mountain air and you can’t breathe it. You want to shiver but the straps are so tight you can’t do it. You strain so hard you piss yourself. Still you try to get free. It makes the pain worse. You can’t move. You feel yourself blacking out. Your brain goes into shutdown.’ His voice was still a whisper, his face convulsed as he relived the memory. ‘You try to scream but no sound comes and you know you’re going to die.’ He paused and stared at Bishop. ‘I’d take a bullet any day instead of that.’
‘I didn’t realise,’ Bishop said. He spoke softly, almost sympathetically.
Vince eased his way forward in the chair, sensing weakness. Sensing this could be his moment. Joe became aware and jerked the gun sharply in his direction. Vince froze and sat back sullenly.
‘How did you get free?’ asked Bishop.
‘Now there’s a story,’ Joe smiled. He looked at Bishop. ‘Let’s just say I got lucky. And now you talk of doing a deal.’
‘Anything,’ blurted Bishop, eagerly.
‘Make me an offer,’ Joe suggested.
Bishop hesitated, sensing that Joe was playing games.
‘For a start I want my money,’ Joe told him.
‘It’s in the safe.’
‘Get it.’ Joe stood up as Bishop turned to the safe on the floor at the side of his desk. Vince stood but Joe beckoned for him to sit down again while Bishop worked the combination lock. Joe walked around the desk so that he was alongside Bishop as he swung the safe door open. Joe touched Bishop behind the ear with the Magnum as he eyed a gun lying on the top shelf inside the safe. ‘Naughty,’ Joe chided. ‘Back off.’
Bishop glared at Joe as he rose slowly and backed towards where Vince was sitting.
‘Going to use it, were you?’ asked Joe.
‘Course not,’ scoffed Bishop. ‘I just keep it for security reasons. I can’t even remember if it’s loaded.’
Keeping a careful eye on Bishop and Vince, Joe leaned down and took the gun from the safe and glanced at it. ‘.455 Webley. Looks bloody antique. Does it work?’
Bishop stared sourly but didn’t answer.
Joe aimed low across the room and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed round the room as the bullet ripped into the expensive wallpaper. Bishop ducked away from the sound. ‘It works all right,’ smiled Joe brightly, looking at the smoking gun, ‘and it’s loaded.
‘You could regret doing that,’ Bishop told him. ‘You’ll bring the Law here.’
Joe laughed. ‘A gunshot in this place at three in the morning. They’ll just think the natives are having a party.’
Several large bundles of ten, twenty and fifty pound notes were stacked on the bottom shelf. Joe looked at the money.
‘How much is there?’
‘Don’t know,’ Bishop said.
‘Bollocks, you know every last penny you screw out of your punters.’
‘About eight grand. Might be a bit more,’ muttered Bishop
‘That should cover it,’ Joe smiled.
He slid the Magnum back into the holster and switched the Webley to his right hand.
‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Weighs a ton, that Magnum does. Christ knows what it would be like if it was loaded,’ he grinned.
Vince rose from his seat and Bishop started forwarded until Joe lifted the gun in their direction.
‘You bastard,’ snarled Bishop, his eyes bulging.
&nbs
p; ‘Temper, temper,’ smiled Joe.
‘You’ve been jerking me around with an empty gun,’ growled Vince. ‘I don’t believe it.’ His neck muscles were working overtime.
‘You should have tried your luck,’ Joe told him. ‘You’ve got to buy a ticket to win a raffle.’
Joe thought he had pushed Vince too far. His face distorted with rage. His body trembled and rocked backwards and forwards. He looked like he was going to lose control altogether but he finally subsided, still trembling and shaking his head.
Joe waved the gun towards the door and looked at Bishop. ‘Now you can give me the grand tour behind the scenes. I’ve already seen out front.’
‘What?’ asked Bishop looking puzzled?
‘Show me round the place,’ Joe said. ‘I’m interested.’
Bishop moved towards the safe, intending to lock it.
‘Leave it,’ Joe said, pointing the gun.
Bishop glared at Joe but backed away. Joe nodded towards the door. Bishop and Vince exited followed closely by Joe.
Pete was in the hall, rolling around on the floor, stretching and pulling at the brown tape. He had made good progress. Another couple of minutes and his hands would have been free. Joe pointed the gun at him and he froze.
‘That was a crap job you did,’ Joe said, looking at Vince. He looked at Pete. ‘You want a bullet, let me know.’ He looked at Vince again. ‘Pick him up. He stays with us from now on.’
Vince hoisted Pete onto his shoulder. Bishop looked questioningly at Joe.
‘So let’s begin,’ smiled Joe. ‘I’d like to see Vince’s torture chamber.’
‘It’s a gymnasium,’ Bishop said sourly.
‘Whatever,’ Joe said. ‘Lead the way.’
Bishop walked to a flight of stairs at the end of the corridor. Joe beckoned to Vince to follow. They walked down the steps in a close group. Joe held the gun at the back of Vince’s head. At the bottom of the steps Bishop opened a heavy door that led to another corridor. Vince and Joe followed him through the door. Vince looked round as the door closed behind them. Joe dropped back slightly, shaking his head. ‘Don’t,’ he warned Vince softly.
Bishop looked back. ‘Leave it Vince.’
There were several doors off the corridor.
‘Sound proof down here, is it?’ asked Joe.