Broken Dreams

by Nick Quantrill

  ‘Did you ever hear any talk of the fire when you were working?’

  She shook her head. ‘It was mainly Mr Johnson who visited me. Mr Salford stopped coming as much about one year ago.’

  ‘But he never spoke about the fire?’

  ‘Neither of them did.’

  ‘Did any of the other girls talk about it?’

  ‘No.’

  I tried not to show my frustration. It wasn’t Anastazja’s fault. I knew my anger should be directed at Salford and Coleman.

  ‘If I knew, I would tell you’ she said. ‘Mr Salford and Mr Johnson are not nice men. I would like them to be punished. You have been very kind to me, Joe. If I could repay you by helping you, I would do it.’

  I smiled. ‘I’m sorry. I know you would.’

  Sarah walked into the room and I introduced her properly to Anastazja, and explained how she’d helped me. Anastazja excused herself.

  ‘You can’t save her’ Sarah said to me.

  ‘I’m not trying to.’

  ‘You are.’

  I put my mug down and said nothing.

  ‘If she can’t go back to her house because of Salford and Johnson, where’s she staying?’

  I watched Anastazja walk back into the room. ‘She can stay at my flat.’ I owed her that much. I gave Anastazja the keys to my flat and put her in a taxi with instructions to lock herself in. I couldn’t be sure whether Johnson knew where I lived, but I was working on the principle that he wouldn’t look in the most obvious places. Besides, there were no other options. If Sarah wasn’t staying with Don, I’d have asked her for the favour, but she’d made her objection to Anastazja’s appearance loud and clear. I didn’t have the time or inclination to discuss it, or try to figure out what she was thinking, so I left the office and headed to see Coleman.

  The same officer from my previous visit was manning the duty desk and didn’t look pleased to see me again.

  ‘DC Coleman, please’ I said, smiling at him.

  ‘He’s in a meeting.’

  I laughed. ‘You’ve not even tried him.’

  ‘He’s on my list.’

  ‘He’ll want to talk to me.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ He turned away from me. ‘Pleasure speaking to you, though.’

  ‘It’s about my wife.’ We were the only two people in the reception area. ‘I’m not messing’ I explained. ‘If he won’t talk to me, I know people who will.’

  ‘Sit down.’ He pointed to the seats behind me and picked up his phone.

  ‘I thought we understood each other?’

  I stood up and walked over to Coleman, who was leant on the frame of the reception door. I didn’t care how pissed off he was. ‘I want to talk to you.’

  ‘It’s not a good time, Joe. Can’t it wait?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’ll have to.’

  ‘Fine.’ I started to back away. He looked like he hadn’t slept properly for days. ‘I’ll have to speak to the press, then. I’m sure they’ll be interested.’

  Coleman looked at me like he really didn’t need the hassle. I wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily. He relented and we went into an interview room.

  ‘Why did you drop the investigation?’ I took a deep breath and calmed down. I was shouting.

  ‘It’s not like that’ Coleman replied.

  I wondered if we were being recorded, but I didn’t care. ‘It was exactly like that.’

  ‘We’ve been through this before.’

  ‘Tell me again.’

  ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘My wife is dead.’ I was shouting again.

  Coleman shook his head. ‘We’ve been over and over it. There’s nothing I can do.’

  ‘Unless there’s new evidence?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  I looked him in the eye. He looked nervous. ‘Frank Salford was behind the fire.’

  ‘You’ve got to do better than that’ he said, shaking his head.

  I saw red. The smile on his face as he shook his head, like he thought I was stupid. I flew across the room and pinned him to the wall. I had hold of him by his tie. I was close enough to smell his coffee breath. ‘She was my wife’ I said quietly, ‘and she died.’ I slowly released him from my grasp, knowing I’d overstepped the mark. I sat down and said nothing, waiting for him to do likewise.

  He straightened his tie. ‘What new evidence?’ he eventually asked me.

  ‘Murdoch told me about the fire.’

  ‘Murdoch?’

  I nodded.

  ‘He’d tell you anything you wanted to hear. You’re all he’s got.’

  Coleman had a point but I was still convinced Murdoch was telling me the truth. ‘He knows you’ll be arresting him soon’ I said. ‘The fraud he’s involved in is unwinding. He knows it and has nothing to lose by telling me the truth. In fact, it’d probably help him.’

  ‘What proof does he have of Salford’s involvement?’

  ‘He’s involved with them.’

  ‘Was he there?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  Coleman shook his head. ‘I need more than his word. You can’t come charging in here, taking me away from my work, assault me, and all because you’ve got a hunch.’

  ‘It’s not a hunch.’

  ‘It is unless you’ve got some evidence of his involvement.’

  I leant across the table. ‘What was his alibi?’

  ‘It’s not your concern.’

  ‘I’ll look into it for you. Prove it’s a lie.’

  Coleman shook his head. ‘You can’t do that for me.’

  ‘I can.’

  ‘I don’t want you to.’

  I sat back. ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s not how we work.’ Coleman stood up and paced the room. ‘You’ve got to trust me. We’re looking at Salford and if he’s involved, it’ll come out in the wash.’

  ‘My wife died in an arson attack. That kind of thing doesn’t come out in the wash. It was murder; it should be your priority.’

  ‘And it is.’

  ‘That’s not how it looks sat here.’

  ‘The investigation was very thorough. Speak to Don, he’ll tell you that.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with Don.’

  ‘Right.'

  ‘Did you ever question Salford?’

  ‘I can’t tell you things like that.’

  ‘You’d tell Don.’

  ‘I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Did you question him?’ I repeated.

  Coleman sighed. ‘Not under caution.’

  I nodded. ‘And?’

  ‘What do you expect me to say? He denied any involvement and gave us his alibi.’

  ‘And that was it?’

  ‘There was nothing more we could do.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘We followed up all lines of inquiry.’

  ‘Which were?’

  ‘Other lines of inquiry.’

  He was exasperated, but I didn’t care. I asked him about the lines of inquiry.

  ‘I’m not going to give you the nuts and bolts of the investigation, but you’ll be the first to be informed if there was a development.’

  ‘Not good enough.’

  ‘What do you want from me, Joe?’

  ‘I want you to re-open the investigation properly.’

  ‘I can’t do that. You know that.’

  ‘You can take what Murdoch’s told me seriously.’

  ‘I am doing.’

  ‘And speak to your superiors.’

  Coleman shook his head. ‘They won’t be interested. I can tell you that much.’

  ‘Unless there’s new evidence?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  It was my turn to stand up and pace the room. ‘I need your help.’

  ‘I can’t help you.’

  ‘More than your job’s worth?’

  Neither of us spoke for a few moments. It was below the belt and I should have apologised, but I wasn’t in t
he mood. I wanted Coleman to feel uncomfortable. I wanted to hurt him.

  ‘Look, I can speak to DI McCormack about it’ Coleman offered. ‘See what he says. We might be able to tag it into the other stuff.’

  I stopped my pacing. ‘Tag it in? Have you not heard a word I said? I’m not asking you to look into a theft from my garden shed. My wife was murdered by Frank Salford.’ I shook my head, knowing I’d wasted my time. Coleman wasn’t prepared to help me. I was on my own.

  ‘Did Anastazja get off ok?’ I asked Sarah. Having nothing further to say to Coleman, I left before I said something stupid.

  She nodded. ‘The taxi came straight away.’

  ‘Good.’ I sat down, ready to think over what Coleman had said.

  She looked like she had something to say about the situation, so I cut her off and asked about the note she’d left on my desk. ‘A new client?’

  ‘They want to see you urgently.’

  ‘What about Don?’

  ‘They asked for you.’

  ‘Personally?’

  ‘Your must have a reputation.’

  I looked at the note again. ‘I must do.’

  Sarah passed me a piece of paper. ‘They’ve booked a table. At least you’ll get lunch.’

  I looked at my watch; an hour to kill. ‘What’s your dad doing?’

  ‘Keeping out of your way, I think.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Trying to do the same.’

  I nodded. ‘Right.’ I thought about calling Anastazja’s mobile and even got as far as punching in the first three digits before stopping and replacing the handset. I could talk to her later. I closed my eyes.

  The restaurant was one of Hull’s finest and the kind of place which made me uncomfortable. From the look on the waiter’s face, he knew I was in the wrong place, too. He seated me and left me with a menu. Twenty minutes later, I had ordered a mineral water and was losing patience fast.

  ‘Mr Geraghty. How pleasant to see you again.’

  I stood up and turned around. Dave Johnson.

  He laughed and pointed at me. ‘Surprise.’

  ‘Hardly.’ I tried to push past him, but his two burly assistants closed the gap.

  ‘Sit down and eat with me’ he said, all smiles.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Johnson turned to his assistants and shrugged. ‘What can you do?’ He jabbed a finger in my chest. ‘Shut the fuck up and sit down.’

  ‘Or you’ll throw me in a freshly dug grave again?’

  The smile hadn’t left his face. The section of the restaurant we were in was dark, secluded and most importantly, empty. He’d chosen well. I sat back down.

  ‘What do you want to eat?’ he asked me.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Order something.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  Johnson shook his head before shouting for the waiter. The speed at which he sprinted over confirmed Johnson had some clout in the place. He pointed at something on the menu and told them to bring the same for me.

  ‘After I left Salford’s casino last night, my colleague had a brick thrown through her window’ I said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Her kid was in the house.’

  ‘I had a problem like that. Teenagers.’ He shrugged. ‘I had a word, though, and it got straightened out. Sometimes you just need to talk to people, take the time to understand each other.’

  ‘How much did you pay them to throw the brick through the window?’

  Johnson shook his head. ‘I’m offended you’d even say that to me, Joe.’

  I held his stare. ‘Leave her alone. This is nothing to do with her.’

  Johnson drummed his fingers on the table. ‘I’ll have a word. Sometimes you just have to do what you’re told, even though you don’t agree with them.’

  ‘Salford?’

  ‘He’s the boss.’

  ‘It goes back to your football hooligan days.’

  ‘Very good. You’ve done your research. I like a man who’s prepared.’ Johnson sat back in his chair. ‘They were the fun days, alright. Heading off to some shithole on a double-decker bus, not knowing what you’d walk into. Great stuff. It’s in our blood, you see. We’re a city of drinkers and fishermen. We were born to fight. Even the rugby was great. The police would never turn up and because you were usually heading for some tip of a mining town, there were plenty of handy lads with nothing else to do. They’d be up for it.’

  It was a chance to find out some more about Salford.

  ‘And it gave you the opportunity to build an empire.’

  ‘Where there’s large groups of young men and testosterone flying about they’ll want drugs. It’s a fact of life. What they needed was someone who could bring it altogether for them. The biggest problem was the rugby. Having the two clubs in the city was great for some rucks, especially in the weeks leading up to the derbies, but it made it difficult at the football. There were too many knobheads worried about the east and west divide of the city which the rugby divided itself up on. If they could have put that to one side, even just on match days, we’d have been one of the top firms in the country.’

  I stood up. Johnson was deluded, still living in the past. ‘You can tell your boss I’m not scared of him.’

  Johnson also stood up. ‘Sit down.’

  ‘We’ve got nothing to talk about.’

  ‘We’ve got plenty to talk about. Now, sit the fuck down or I’ll have you strapped down in the chair until I’m finished.’

  I reluctantly sat down.

  ‘Good. Let’s be adult about this.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘We’re both businessmen. Shouldn’t we able to help each other out over a pleasant lunch?’

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was being forced against my will to eat with a known local gangster, and he thought it was a legitimate business meeting.

  ‘Why are you shaking your head, Joe?’

  ‘Why would I want to help you out?’

  ‘Because you can. It’s called a mutual exchange. We’re all professional people here.’

  I laughed, unable to stop myself. This man had threatened to bury me alive not too long ago.

  ‘The brick was a mistake. We both know that. It’s not how things get done, is it?

  ‘Get to the point.’

  He laughed at me. ‘I like your attitude. You want to know who killed your wife, right?’

  I put my drink down. ‘I know who killed my wife.’

  ‘My employer?’

  ‘Got it in one.’

  Johnson smiled. ‘Are you seriously telling me he goes around starting fires?’

  ‘He’s the one giving the orders.’

  ‘Can you prove it?’

  It was like speaking to Coleman again.

  ‘It’s a serious accusation to make it’ he said.

  ‘It’s a serious business when you go around killing people. I know you’ve forced people out of their houses, just so you can sell them on as compulsory purchases. Profitable, I assume?’

  ‘I’d hardly say we forced people out. We made homeowners offers and they decided if they wanted to sell to us. We can’t control council policy.’

  I pressed on. ‘My wife died and I’ll make whoever did it pay.’

  Johnson sat back in his chair and looked at me, like he was weighing me up. ‘I appreciate that, Joe, I really do, and I think we can help each other out. I need you to lay off whatever you think you’re doing. Yes, Christopher Murdoch was someone we were using as a consultant on a few projects, but that particular relationship has now been terminated. It’s finished.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’

  He laughed again. ‘Hardly. We both know Murdoch is finished. If he stepped outside the law, that’s not our problem. He’ll have to answer to the police. Assuming he gets that far.’

  ‘I’ll take that as a threat against my client.’

  ‘Take it however you want to
take it.’

  The waiter served our food and left.

  ‘The point is Joe, it’s a hassle we don’t want and you can make it go away for us.’

  ‘I can’t make it just disappear, even if I wanted to. It’s gone too far’ I said.

  Johnson pointed at me. ‘You’ll drop your investigation and tell Murdoch to keep his mouth shut.’

  ‘Why would I want to do that for you?’

  Johnson smiled and sat back in chair, staring at me. ‘Because we can give you the scrotes who started the fire.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I’d felt sick after leaving the restaurant and headed to Queens to reflect. What it seemed to boil down to was how far I was prepared to go for the truth. Coleman had made it clear he wasn’t prepared to help, even though I’d given him a heads-up. After walking out of the police station, I thought I would do anything to get some closure on my wife’s death. Speaking to Johnson had put doubt in my mind. Johnson had told me he could deliver the people responsible for the fire to my doorstep, but what good would it do? His offer confirmed Salford was behind the fire, so meeting the toe-rags who started it seemed pointless. I could beat them until my hands bled and the tears stopped, but it wouldn’t change anything. They weren’t the ones my anger should be directed at. They were probably told the house would be empty that night and bunged £50 for their troubles. I knew getting into bed with Johnson on this was a bad idea, but I wanted justice.

  My mobile vibrated on the pub table and I thought about ignoring the call. I looked at the caller ID - Sarah. I put my glass down and listened to her excited message. Donna Platt had been in touch, offering to meet us. Thirty minutes later and we were on the road, Sarah driving. I wasn’t keen on being driven but I was probably over the limit. As we drove out of Hull, towards the coast I’d called Anastazja and confirmed she hadn’t left my flat all day. She told me she was bored, which wasn’t surprising, but was cooking me a meal using the ingredients found in my cupboard. I couldn’t begin to think what she could do with them, but said I looked forward to finding out. I closed my eyes and slept for the duration of the journey; I needed the break.

  An hour later, we’d parked and found the place we were looking for. The pub was yards from Scarborough’s seafront and like most British resorts, it’d seen better days. Being out of season, the town centre was quiet, the cafes and souvenir shops in hibernation. Only the odd amusement arcade was open, entertaining the local teenagers, who ran past us. The only people in the pub looked like regulars. There was a stage in the corner but no act was performing tonight. I bought the drinks and Sarah directed us over to the corner. There was no mistaking the woman sat there – Donna Platt. The permed hair on the photograph had given way to a more modern style and the make-up had been toned down, but it was definitely her. Seeing her in the flesh brought the ageing process to mind and I wondered how I was faring in comparison. Did the teenager who looked set for a career in professional sport remain? I pushed the thought aside and sat down.