Living Dangerously

by Dan Latus

  ‘She said all that?’

  ‘And more.’

  ‘Nice of her.’

  ‘Oh, she thinks highly of you.’

  ‘As I do of her.’

  ‘It’s just, she said, that you live too dangerously for her. She couldn’t cope with it. Running a gallery requires organization and a steady life.’

  I nodded. I could imagine Jac saying that. She was right, too. I couldn’t deny it.

  ‘Whereas I,’ Senga said softly, ‘rather like risk and uncertainty, and even danger. They bring me fully awake. Life on the edge is best, don’t you think?’

  I smiled and looked at her. She smiled back. Odd, how you can suddenly feel on the same wavelength as another human being, even when the circumstances are not exactly propitious. Even when you have been told things that might have warned you off.

  ‘Was it you that came to my house that night?’ I asked, knowing now what her answer would be. ‘Walked round and round it? Three times?’

  She nodded. ‘I wanted to see if you might be the man we needed to help Tom.’

  ‘But you didn’t see me?’

  ‘I saw enough. I saw where you live, and I could see that Jac was probably right about you.’

  ‘Then you told your sister and her husband?’

  ‘They needed someone like you. So did Tom. We all did.’

  I wondered. I wondered about that a lot. Look where it had got them – and me.

  But at least the mystery was solved at last: Senga had been the nocturnal prowler. I could rest easy about that, at least.

  ‘Tell me about Josh and Logan,’ I said.

  ‘All work and no play?’ she said sadly, her fingers sliding down my arm.

  ‘At the moment, yes,’ I said with a wry chuckle.

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Finish what you started to tell me earlier. You were on about Josh’s main business. And the ship.’

  ‘Oh, yes. The ship.’ She yawned and collected her thoughts. ‘What do you suppose it’s for?’

  ‘I said import-export. You said just export.’

  ‘Mostly export. Josh exports a lot of heavy agricultural and industrial machinery, most of it used. It’s big business.’

  ‘Really? Second-hand combine harvesters and industrial pumps? Stuff like that?’

  ‘Have you any idea how much “stuff like that” sells for?’

  ‘None at all.’

  ‘Big bucks, believe me.’

  ‘For used tractors?’

  She smiled. ‘Plant and equipment like that is very valuable. I was amazed when I found out. A used Massey Ferguson tractor can fetch a hundred grand. A one-year-old combine harvester might fetch a hundred and fifty thousand.’

  ‘Dollars?’

  ‘No, sterling.’

  I shook my head. Not junk, then. It was a revelation.

  ‘Then there’s the industrial side,’ she went on. ‘A big Cummins industrial generator, a year or two old, say, is worth fifty thousand. Diggers, bulldozers, loaders … they’re all worth big money. Construction equipment …’

  ‘I get the picture. But he needed a ship to carry it all in. That must have eaten into the revenue stream?’

  ‘Ships are surprisingly cheap. Not new ones. But you can get a decent little coaster like Josh’s, maybe twenty years old, for a hundred thousand – not much more than a decent used tractor or combine harvester. Besides,’ she added, ‘some of the stuff goes by road.’

  That made me think of the truck with Hungarian plates I had seen in Josh’s compound.

  ‘Where does it all go?’

  ‘All over.’ She blew out her cheeks. ‘A lot to Ukraine. Some to Russia. Other stuff to dirt-poor countries like Moldova and Romania.’

  I struggled to place Moldova on a map. Next to Romania, I seemed to recall. Formerly part of the USSR.

  ‘All in Eastern Europe?’

  She nodded. ‘Mostly. Sometimes even to breakaway little territories that you can’t really call countries, like that Russian-speaking part of Moldova that declared independence the other year. I can’t even remember its name.’

  No more could I, if I had ever heard of it.

  ‘Transnistria, or something like that,’ she added.

  ‘Boy, you’re a whiz at geography!’ I told her.

  She chuckled. ‘All those places have one thing in common.’

  ‘What? Plenty of poverty? They can’t afford to buy new?’

  She nodded. ‘That’s it. Josh saw a market. You’ve got to hand it to him.’

  Big business, then, and no doubt expanding.

  ‘So how did it all go wrong, if it did?’

  ‘Ah! Now we’re getting to it.’

  Whatever that was, we weren’t there yet. Senga broke off as two things happened.

  Behind us, Tom said, ‘Good morning!’

  And in front of us men began to pour out of The Shepherd’s Rest.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The first house they came to was occupied by an elderly couple.

  ‘Are you from the council?’ the man asked as soon as Blue came to the door. ‘We’ve been waiting for somebody to turn up. It’s ridiculous. There’s no television. And the phone’s not working either.’

  ‘No,’ Blue said, shaking his head and improvising quickly. ‘Not the council. We’re above the council. We’re national security. Now, how many people are in this house?’

  ‘Just me and the wife.’

  ‘Two people?’

  ‘Yes. What’s this about?’

  ‘National security. Has anyone been to the house in the last twenty-four hours?’

  ‘No. What’s going on?’

  ‘A dangerous man has escaped. We’re looking for him. Have you got a mobile phone?’

  ‘The wife has.’

  ‘Show me it.’

  Blue confiscated the mobile, saying it would be returned when they had completed their inquiries. Then they moved on to the next house, where it went much the same.

  In the third house they encountered resistance. The occupant, a young man in t-shirt and jeans, said, ‘Show me some ID.’

  Blue laughed in his face. ‘What do you think this is – a tele-vision programme? Answer the question. How many people are in here?’

  ‘Show me some ID first,’ the young man said doggedly.

  Blue nodded at Manny. ‘Show him.’

  Manny took out his pistol, hit the young man across the face with it and shouldered his way into the house. The man screamed and collapsed on the floor.

  ‘Who’s here?’ Blue demanded, stooping over him.

  ‘Just me,’ the man gasped.

  He put his hands to his face, and then stared with horror at the blood on his hands when he took them away.

  ‘‘Has anybody called at the house overnight?’

  ‘No, nobody.’

  Blue stared at him. They would soon find out if that was true. If it wasn’t, he would be back.

  ‘What do you want?’ the man cried.

  Blue ignored him. ‘Search the place,’ he told Manny and Eddie.

  It was true. Nobody else. They moved on, taking another mobile with them, after issuing another warning.

  ‘Stay here till we say you can leave,’ Blue said. ‘Don’t make us come back and shoot you. Got that?’

  The young man nodded, too shaky to speak any more.

  Generally, however, people were cooperative and eager to help by answering a few simple questions. Blue’s impromptu explanations for their presence and their inquiries grew ever more inventive.

  ‘We’ve got the village on twenty-four-hour lockdown,’ he said a couple of times, ‘while we search for this dangerous killer. We believe someone in this village has helped him to escape and evade the lawful authorities.’

  ‘That’s terrible!’ the middle-aged couple in one house said in unison. ‘You’d better catch them soon.’

  At another house, the husband announced that he would just grab his coat and then he w
ould come and help.

  ‘No thanks!’ Blue said hurriedly. ‘We don’t want innocent civilians out here. It’s not safe. Better to leave it to the experts.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ the man said with disappointment.

  Blue said he was.

  ‘Do they really believe all that stuff?’ Manny asked wonderingly.

  ‘They do,’ Eddie said firmly. He didn’t want Manny having doubts. ‘What he’s doing is providing leadership. That’s what people want. Give them it, and they look up to you, and believe what you say. Like with Putin in Russia.’

  ‘Amazing,’ Manny said, shaking his head. ‘Fucking amazing!’

  ‘Only half a dozen houses to go,’ Eddie said less confidently a little later. ‘What if we don’t find him?’

  ‘We will,’ Blue said.

  Privately, Blue was thinking he would soon have to turn his thoughts to getting them out of there. The snow had stopped and the ploughs would be well on their way by now. With them, in all probability, would come the police.

  He should phone Logan to let him know how things were. Even if they found the kid again, he wasn’t sure they would be able to get out with him. They certainly weren’t going to carry him. Better to let him eat a bullet, and be done with it. Fuck Logan!

  Then there was that phone call he’d received a little while ago to consider. They were not happy, back there, and he couldn’t afford that. Time was pressing. He couldn’t put them off much longer either, whatever Logan thought and wanted. They had different priorities, different agendas. He’d had to work with that fact from the start.

  But he would phone Logan first, he decided. No point waiting till the snow ploughs arrived. Logan was close enough to be able to do something to help. He’d better.

  ‘You two go on to the next house,’ he told Manny and Eddie. ‘You know the drill by now. I’m just going to make a phone call.’

  ‘Who to?’ Manny asked. ‘The BBC Weather Centre?’

  ‘For your information,’ Blue said wearily, ‘I’m going to make arrangements to get us out of here.’

  ‘Now you’re talking!’ Manny said with enthusiasm. ‘I hate this fucking place.’

  ‘Careful what you wish for,’ Blue told him. ‘There’s worse places than this.’

  Eddie shivered. He knew that was true.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘That’s Blue,’ Tom said, pointing to the man with black curly hair. ‘He’s in charge.’

  I nodded. I’d seen him before. He was the one who had starred in the theatrical performance on my doorstep the other day. I suppose I was lucky he hadn’t just shot me, instead of delivering a warning. It would have saved him a lot of trouble.

  ‘Logan isn’t with them?’

  Tom shook his head.

  ‘Could he have been around without you seeing him?’

  ‘No way!’

  Logan kept well back from the action, it seemed. He hadn’t been at the house in Marton either.

  ‘We’d better keep away from the window now it’s getting light,’ I said, getting up and moving my chair back.

  ‘Any chance of some breakfast?’ Tom asked.

  ‘No idea. Go and see what you can find.’

  The lad wasn’t my favourite person, and I certainly wasn’t his carer. I still hadn’t forgotten that it was his stupidity that had got us into this mess in the first place.

  ‘Come on, Tom,’ said Senga, taking pity on him. ‘Let’s have a look.’

  I stayed where I was and watched the Blue character give his orders. Then he and a couple of his men trudged through the snow to the house next to the pub and rang the doorbell. Discussions occurred on the front step. Nothing happened. They moved on, looking for Tom, I assumed.

  The ritual was repeated at the next house, and the one after that. Then there was a change in the pattern. They knocked a guy aside and barged into his house. He must have given them the wrong answer.

  ‘Breakfast!’ Senga called a few minutes later.

  It seemed a good idea to grab some of whatever there was to eat before the peace of the morning was disturbed. Hopefully, I’’d think of something to do when Blue came calling, as I feared he inevitably would in due course. Not answering the door wouldn’t keep him at bay.

  We had toast and coffee. Senga had also discovered a rusty tin of corned beef in a cupboard but none of us fancied that.

  ‘Julie still asleep?’ I asked.

  Tom nodded. ‘She’s very tired.’

  I glanced at Senga, but she said nothing. Tom probably didn’t know about the sleeping tablet she had given Julie. Not that it mattered.

  ‘You were going to tell me more about the export business,’ I reminded Senga. ‘Where did it go wrong?’

  She winced and looked at Tom. ‘Do you want to tell him,’ she asked, ‘or shall I?’

  ‘Does either of us really need to?’

  ‘I think so,’ she said firmly. ‘Frank has put himself on the line for us – for you especially, Tom. It’s only fair.’

  ‘He’s getting paid for it.’

  ‘Not nearly enough, if I know your father.’

  ‘You can tell him, if you like.’ He shrugged and looked away. Then he got up, saying, ‘I’m going to see Julie.’

  So there was just me and Senga once again. I looked at her. She shrugged and started.

  ‘Josh got involved with Logan. It began when they met on holiday in Florida.’

  ‘Accidentally?’

  ‘Apparently. Anyway, they got on well together.’

  I just shook my head.

  ‘What?’ Senga said, bristling. ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘They met accidentally on holiday?’ I said wearily. ‘And they became buddies?’ I shook my head again. ‘How likely is that? But go on.’

  Senga frowned, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility of it not being an accidental meeting.

  ‘Anyway, Josh discovered that Logan had interests in the same trade as he did – the export of second-hand plant and equipment.’

  ‘Tell me you’re joking! In Florida he discovered that? While on holiday?’

  She smiled ruefully now. ‘It does sound a little improbable, doesn’t it? But that’s what Anne told me had happened.’

  It sounded to me like one of them must have been looking for the other. I really don’t believe in coincidences.

  ‘Tell me more.’

  ‘Logan was experiencing difficulties with transport arrangements. So he was very interested to learn that Josh had his own ship, and that he had regular shipping and marketing agents in Europe.’

  ‘I’ll bet he was!’

  ‘So he suggested a working relationship. Logan would send some of his stuff to Middlesbrough. Josh would ship it, consign it and take a share of the profit.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘It was, at the time. At least, it seemed to be. Usually the ss Anne was sailing without being fully laden, and Josh knew he could sell more stuff in Europe than he could actually source in the UK. So it seemed a perfect fit.’

  ‘The Steele and Logan Mutual Benefit Society, eh? Then what?’

  ‘After a while Josh grew suspicious about some of the items Logan was bringing forward. He did some checking, and found that what he had come to suspect was true. Logan was shipping stuff that had been stolen. So he confronted him over it.’

  ‘Let me guess. Logan offered him a bigger share of the profit to keep him sweet?’

  Senga nodded. ‘He did. He also told Josh that between them they had already moved on a lot of stolen stuff. He, Logan, had documentary proof of it. So Josh was complicit, and would be in trouble himself if he went to the police.

  ‘Josh decided to go along with it for a bit longer, while he tried to work out a way of ditching Logan without going to prison himself. Frankly, he needed the money, too. Business wasn’t great just then. Loans were being called in, trade was down, and profits from other sides of his business had slumped with the recession.

  ‘Then
Logan got greedy. He announced that he wanted a share of Josh’s other businesses. Josh exploded and went mad. Logan laughed in his face. So did Logan’s son, who was a nasty piece of work in his own right.’

  I was beginning to see now how it had all developed, and could even make some guesses about what had happened next. But I waited for Senga to tell me.

  ‘Logan’s son, Bryce, decided to do a bit of pressing himself. He told Tom what was going on, and then announced that he wanted the new car Josh had given Tom for his birthday. Tom said no way!’

  ‘He’d not known any of this was happening?’

  ‘Not up to that point. Nor had my sister. It was all down to Josh himself.’

  I could almost finish the story for myself now.

  ‘So Logan’s son and Tom squabbled over the car,’ I suggested, ‘and somehow Logan’s kid got run over?’

  Senga sighed. ‘That’s pretty well it,’ she agreed. ‘Tom couldn’t say much in his own defence without exposing the whole sordid business and incriminating his father – and possibly Anne, as well. So he took the fall.’

  ‘No wonder he’s mad at Josh.’

  ‘As is my sister,’ Senga said. ‘Which is where I came into it. Anne asked for my advice and help.’

  ‘She’d got my name from Jac?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So you came to suss me out?’

  She nodded.

  ‘There’s only one mystery remaining now,’ I said.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Your name: Senga. Where’s that from?’

  I thought she was going to decline to answer, but after an awkward moment she said, ‘I was actually christened Agnes, after some favourite aunt, but I didn’t like that. Who would, in this day and age?’

  She stared at me challengingly and added, ‘There! Satisfied?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I said, trying hard not to smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When I got back to the window I could see that we had very little time left. Blue and his men had completed visiting the houses on the far side of the street. Now they were crossing over to start on our side. We were the third house along, and had maybe fifteen minutes before they got to us.