Sarah just sat and stared at him. This was the first time she had heard him speak quite like this. Marriage had always been something that was going to happen, but somewhere hazy, in the future. Jerry was right, though. How much more in the future could it be? She knew that she loved him enough to commit herself to him, and had always realised that at some time she would have to give up work if children came along. In the course of that work she knew how tragic events could take over a life. Was she wrong to deny not just Alex and Catherine, but also herself and Jerry, the enjoyment of a full and complete life now? With sudden insight, she realised that she was.
She looked at the man sitting opposite her in this crowded room and knew that there was no one else she would rather be having this conversation with.
‘Jerry, are you proposing to me?’
‘Well, yes I suppose I am, but I’m damned if I’m going to go down on one knee in here.’
‘It would cause a riot!’
‘Alright, damn it. If that’s what it will take.’
To her absolute amazement and confusion Jerry moved off his chair and went down on one knee in front of her. ‘Sarah Jennings, it would give me the utmost pleasure if you would agree to marry me.’
A hush descended on the room, and all eyes were on the pair.
Ignoring them all, Sarah put her hand in Jerry’s and in a clear voice said ‘Yes, Jeremy McIntyre. I would be delighted to become your wife.’
The whole room erupted with whoops and yells and clapping. Sarah was swamped in hugs and Jerry was slapped on the back by helpful males all prophesying his ultimate doom.
As they struggled hand in hand out of the cafeteria and into the comparative calm of the hospital corridor, Jerry turned to her and said, ‘Well, you’ll have something to surprise Catherine with tonight.’
‘I think she must have some sort of terrible disease, and it’s catching.’
Laughing together, they went back to work.
*
Jack Ellison had decided to take a holiday! With his wife still reeling from the shock, Ellison put out the word that all operations would cease until his return. He also made sure that the news found its way to other quarters.
If what he had learnt from the paper passed to him at the boxing match was true, with his operations closed down for a while, there would be a lot less opportunity for the opposition to undertake anything which might be attributed to him. Not foolproof, but more difficult.
Besides he might even enjoy some sun. He’d enjoy looking at the girls, anyway!
*
No one dared go near their boss. Johnny Clarke had been in a foul mood since hearing about the temporary amnesty issued by Ellison. Just as he was ready to do something big, this had to happen. It was almost as if Ellison had been warned. Now, there was a thought! He turned it over in his mind. Who might have had the opportunity?
He remembered hearing that one of his men had been thrown out of a gym in Lewisham for shooting his mouth off about the opposition. It was Fenton’s place, he was sure. He didn’t think Fenton ever became involved one way or the other, but just suppose that on this occasion he had decided to pass the information on. How?
Then he remembered the latest round of photographs showing Ellison attending a boxing tournament in a local hotel. Fenton had been a boxer. He was bound to have been involved in the organisation. Was that how it was done? He also remembered another photograph. This one showed that policeman he was told to keep an eye on going into the gym a few days before. He knew that he used the gym from time to time, and that he and Fenton went back a long way. Now this was making sense. Was Fenton keeping his ears open for the police, but also thought he could make some money by warning Ellison? Either way, it looked as though Fenton would have to be dealt with. Serve him right for coming on hard with one of his men. Yes, thought Clarke, this would show him who was boss. If Fenton considered he could handle himself and play the big man, it was up to him to show how it should be done.
*
The gym had closed but Joe Fenton was working late, going through his books. Although he had an accountant, he still liked to know what was going on. It was quite pleasing. He was doing well. He looked around the small crowded room which acted as an office cum storeroom. He might even have to start looking around for bigger and newer premises.
He gave a slight shiver. The old paraffin heater wasn’t making much impression on the chill of the evening. He’d get away soon. At one point he thought he heard a noise outside, but decided it was cats going through the bins in the alley. It wouldn’t be the first time. With a shrug he turned his attention back to his figures.
*
Harry Fowler stood in the darkness, cursing under his breath at one of his companions for blundering into the waste bins. All was still quiet, with just a dim light showing from the room which he knew was Fenton’s office. With gentle pressure he tried the handle to the side door and, much to his astonishment, it opened. That was a stupid mistake for a start, he thought. Fenton must fancy his chances, not to take even simple precautions. Well, this would teach him. He smiled to himself, and motioned one of his companions forward.
*
Fenton was making a final note of his calculations when the door to his office burst open and he saw a man standing in the shadows of the corridor, brandishing what appeared to be a wooden club. He smiled to himself. He’d dealt with situations like this before. As he rose to his feet and was about to make a move, two more men came into the room, both of them also armed in a similar fashion.
This was a different proposition, and Fenton felt a frisson of fear run through him. Nevertheless he feinted a move towards the first assailant, but veered in the opposite direction and seconds later had one man on the floor. However, the blow that caught him on his back sent pain throughout his body, and he found it difficult to move his left arm. He attempted to sidestep away from the next anticipated blow, but another caught him round his knees and he was on the floor. He felt one more, and knew that to survive he must somehow get back on his feet. But he couldn’t make his legs move. With the next blow the darkness started to close in. He had to do something, but it was difficult to…
It was an unequal struggle, and after a few moments a crumpled body lay on the floor. Fowler motioned for his two companions to leave and, glancing around, laid a trail of papers from the desk over to the body. He then kicked at a pile of boxes, which spilled over, taking the paraffin heater with them. He waited until he was sure that the fire was well alight. With another quick look at the body, the dark creosoted beams in the low ceiling above and the flames already consuming the paper trail snaking through more close-packed boxes, he left, shutting the door behind him.
*
‘It went like clockwork. I waited until the fire brigade came but by then the old building was well alight. They won’t find a lot.’
‘Good. Payment as usual?’
‘Fine.’
Clarke put down the receiver. That had sorted Fenton out, once and for all. This would show his posh friends that he was capable of coming on strong when he had to. Might keep them thinking too!
*
Alex had the office to himself all day, as Dougie was called away on other duties. He had spent the last hour looking through the first reports of the investigations into the death of Lucille Prentice.
None of her colleagues remembered her mentioning any particular client she was nervous about. Johnny Clarke himself queried her whereabouts with them. When interviewed by the investigation team and informed of the situation, he appeared quite distressed, indicating that she was a particular favourite, and made veiled promises that he himself would find out who had done such a thing. He had a cast iron alibi for the whole time frame involved. When questioned about his treatment of any female company, he admitted to sometimes enjoying the more extreme side of that particular form of entertainment,
but stressed that it had to be consensual, and he always offered a substantial extra payment. All a bit too coincidental and convenient, Alex thought, but there was little else that could be done.
With a heavy heart, he took over the daily job of trawling through news items and company financial reports of various kinds, making notes. A meeting had been arranged for tomorrow with Francis and he hoped to be able to give him some information. He had also arranged to see Ralph Patterson tonight for a meal and intended questioning him about his company’s problems in detail, to confirm whether or not his hunch was correct, that they might fit the pattern they were looking for.
During the day he found himself thinking about Catherine and the events of the last few days. He wondered what she was doing, and had to stop himself from picking up the phone to ring her. He continued to be amazed at the effect she had on him. No one in the past had come close to eliciting the same feelings in him. However, he decided against contacting her. He wanted to keep her as far removed from his daily work involvement as possible. All the same, he couldn’t wait for Friday.
His pleasant train of thought was interrupted by Dougie coming into the room.
‘I didn’t expect to see you today.’
‘It turned out to be a bit of a red herring, and I was told that my services were no longer required. I didn’t need to be told twice. Picked up the evening paper on my way in.’ He pushed it in front of him, pointing to a particular article. ‘Another company in trouble, by the look of it.’
Alex glanced at the other man with a frown and then down at the paper on his desk. It had been folded back and an article ringed in pen, but it was a headline at the foot of the page that caught his eye, and his blood ran cold.
‘Oh my God!’
Dougie turned, arrested by the look of horror on the face of the other man.
‘What’s up, Boss? Trouble?’
Alex gazed up at him and there was a tortured look about the grey eyes. ‘Dougie, I think I’ve killed a man.’
CHAPTER 23
Dougie stood for a moment just staring at Alex, who seemed to have lapsed into something of a trance. He took the paper from his unresisting hands and read the article.
A small gym in Lewisham had been burnt out, and the owner found dead in the rubble. It was thought that a paraffin heater had ignited papers in an office cum storeroom and, as the building was old, the fire had spread and engulfed the whole premises, which had later collapsed. The owner was identified as Joe Fenton, an ex professional boxer.
‘What do you know about this, Alex?’ Dougie used his Christian name in a deliberate effort to break through the dazed look on his partner’s face.
Alex slumped back in his chair. ‘I knew Joe from the old days before I went in the Army. I’ve used his gym for years. He is…. was… one of my contacts. Nothing regular, but one or two useful bits. Despite his past connections, he took a hard line with the gangs, wouldn’t deal with them and wouldn’t tolerate any business done on his premises. Because they knew he could look after himself, everyone accepted it and gave him a wide berth. Dougie, I was there the other day for a session. He told me he had turned one of Clarke’s men out of his premises for boasting about a plan Clarke had in store for Ellison, which would stitch him up.’
Dougie looked at the article again. ‘If we work on the supposition that this fire wasn’t as accidental as they seem to think, it looks as if Clarke took a dim view to him rousting out one of his men, and thought he would deal with him. Knowing that maniac, he wouldn’t just stop at giving him a hell of a beating.’
Alex was looking at him again with that funny expression on his face. ‘There’s more to it, Dougie. I asked Joe if he could warn Ellison about what Clarke was planning. You know what we said about not wanting a gang war to break out on top of everything else happening at the moment. He said he would see what he could do. He must have done something, and that’s why Ellison has left town in a hurry. Just suppose that Clarke worked out who warned Ellison, and Joe was paid a visit? Dougie, if I hadn’t asked him to get involved, this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘It could just be a coincidence.’
‘Do you believe that?’
Dougie shook his head. ‘No, I don’t suppose I do. Alex, it’s not your fault. Fenton knew the score in dealing with these people. He could have refused to help.’
‘That doesn’t make me feel any better. What else do they know, Dougie? Do they know about me? I was there, don’t forget. You don’t suppose for one moment that Franklin’s mixed up in all this?’
Dougie stared at Alex in astonishment. ‘You think he’s giving Clarke orders? Come off it, Alex. I think you’re just letting everything rattle you. He isn’t going to get involved in things like this fire. It’s just Clarke going off like the maniac he is because his game has been spoilt.’
Alex ran a hand over his face. ‘Perhaps you’re right, Dougie.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’d better leave now to see Ralph Patterson. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.’
*
‘Well, one thing’s for sure, they do a mean steak here, Alex.’
Alex didn’t feel much like eating, but he needed information and he forced his mind to concentrate.
‘Glad you enjoyed it, Ralph. I’ve had no complaints.’
They had been able to find a corner table in the restaurant, away from the other diners. Having both declined a dessert, over coffee Alex began his questioning.
‘Tell me a bit about your problems, Ralph.’
‘I’m gutted about it, Alex. Everything was going so well, and now we’re in a spot. I’ve had regular suppliers since I started and we’ve all done well out of the contracts I’ve obtained, even the government ones. As you know, my factory finishes off electrical components, with parts coming in from two other sources. The trouble began about a year ago. Some parts from one particular supplier started to fail on testing, squeezing my deadlines. We complained, of course, and the other firm at first was at a loss to explain the problems.
‘They started to investigate at their end, and to begin with there didn’t seem to be any reason why there was a problem. Then someone spotted that certain batches had a small fault that for some reason had gone unnoticed by quality control. It meant going through all their machining and technical data from scratch to check everything. Staff were questioned about it and then they discovered that the faulty batches started about the time a particular employee was engaged, working in the engineering department. That person was with them for about nine months and left about six months ago before anything was suspected. As the pre-made parts filtered through to us and we started to notice the problem, it was found that the fault had not reoccurred in the time since he left.
‘It seems it wasn’t easy at first glance to work out what had gone wrong. It was when the whole matter was looked at in depth that discrepancies in some of the tooling records were found. I gather the person thought to be involved was approached by the company’s legal people, but denies any wrongdoing. The directors are wondering whether to call in the police to see if there is any question of deliberate sabotage.
‘It appears that, for some reason, the faulty parts were confined to those destined for us on the work sheets. It’s a good job we have spot checks in place at our end, which found the problem before they reached the end user. The point is, because I’ve defaulted on orders, these have been placed elsewhere, and finances are now critical. It’s had a knock-on effect down the supply chain, too. I’m trying to do damage limitation by contacting in person all those involved to reinstate confidence and offering initial sweeteners for orders. Something else that’s eating into the profits.
‘I just hope I can salvage things. I’ve put too much work into the company to lose it all, through no fault of mine. I can’t understand why it looks as if my company is the one to be targeted.’
‘It must be a worrying
time for you. Is your supplier certain of all these details? The likelihood of it being deliberate action? The problem couldn’t have occurred in any other way, like pure carelessness?’
‘Not according to their Engineering Manager. He’s furious about it. Sees it as a slight on his department. He’s adamant that it was deliberate action. Just as a precaution, all my departments have double-checked their technical records. We’re starting to get some stuff computerised, which will make it easier. One of my technical guys is on the ball as far as that’s concerned. It’s the coming thing. I can imagine, with your job, that you’d benefit from a record-keeping point of view.’
‘It’s coming Ralph, but not fast enough.’
*
It was Wednesday already and Alex was desperate. He looked again at his watch; time was running out. He had left Dougie in charge at the office, covering for him. He hadn’t explained the exact need for him to leave far earlier than required for his meeting with Francis; he’d felt embarrassed at the reason.
He was due in Whitehall in two hours, and he had yet to achieve his goal of finding Catherine an engagement ring. It should have been easy, but he was looking for something special. He sensed that she wasn’t a flashy, sparkling diamond kind of girl. She needed something more subtle. Everything he had seen so far was, in his view, unsuitable. He would have to make a choice soon though, or give up and buy something for her after they were married. He didn’t want to do that. He wanted to follow convention and place his ring on her finger before then.
He turned off the main street into a Victorian arcade of small shops. The second shop was a jewellers. There was nothing much displayed in the window. In truth it looked a bit run down, and without much hope Alex went inside.
Generations of Love Page 16