That smarted. I suddenly wanted her to take me seriously, and believe in me.
‘They’re not going to get away with it,’ I said firmly.
‘That’s good to know.’
Maybe she believed me; maybe she didn’t. It didn’t matter. I believed me. I had an Old Testament attitude to things like this. Someone was going to be sorry.
‘What brought you all the way from Zimbabwe to here?’ I asked, moving on.
‘Poverty, basically,’ she said with a wry chuckle.
‘You could have chosen a better solution.’
‘Possibly.’ She stopped what she was doing and peered closely for a moment. ‘There! That will have to do. I don’t think there’s anything more I can do. You don’t need stitching, not on your face. And you’ll just have to put up with the bruising and the lacerations for a while.’
‘Thank you – Doctor!’
She smiled and sat back down.
‘We lost the farm where I grew up,’ she said. ‘Mugabe’s gangsters took it at gunpoint. My father was murdered, and Mum didn’t live long after that. I was all alone then, and the future I’d been preparing for all my life was gone. So I came back to England to look up my grandfather, my dad’s father. But I was too late. He’d gone, too.’
She looked around and added, ‘He left me this place and his Whitby coble. I was very grateful.’
And then she had met James Campbell. Poor kid!
‘Was James from Zimbabwe, too?’
‘Well, he lived there, growing up, but he was born in South Africa.’
She added, ‘He didn’t like to talk about all that too much. His life was here now, he used to say, and he was determined to make the best of it.’
And so he had. Until his luck ran out. Poor sod!
PortPlus wouldn’t have liked the idea of Campbell leading the campaign against them. He was a dangerous opponent. I wondered if they had weighed things up and decided to get rid of him. Not the conventional way to do business, but it happens. Usually, though, in countries like Russia or Mexico.
But it was all supposition. I had no evidence for it. Not yet, anyway.
The answers I needed were not here, and I had troubled Nancy far too much already.
‘I’d better be going,’ I said. ‘I’ve taken enough of your time.’
She shrugged. ‘Time is something I have plenty of.’
I levered myself to my feet carefully, not wanting anything to fall off my fragile frame.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked.
‘Home.’
‘Really? And do you think you’ll make it?’
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Driving will be hard with busted ribs.’
‘I got here, didn’t I?’
‘That was then. This is now.’
She was right. I was stiffening up. The knowledge didn’t make me feel any better. But if I could make it back to the Land Rover, a hundred yards or so away, I should be all right. I would just swallow the pain and drive – and hope for the best.
‘Stay here tonight,’ she said.
I smiled wryly.
‘I mean it,’ she said sharply. ‘You’re in no fit state to be driving.’
The arguments I was about to use suddenly all dried up. She was right. I was kidding myself. I might well pass out on the road, and if that happened I probably wouldn’t be the only victim. Time to get real.
‘Where would I. . . ?’
I glanced around helplessly.
‘We’ll manage,’ Nancy said firmly. ‘I’ve got some pain-killers you could take – but not if you’re going to drive.’
I shrugged and sat back down like an old man. There are times when you just have to concede the point.
Chapter Twenty
‘So you can’t do without us, eh?’ the thin, wiry man with short fair hair said. ‘It’s going to cost you, us coming back all this way.’
‘Who is it, anyway?’ his partner, tall and dark-haired, asked.
The boss looked at the man in the suit and invited him to pick up the conversation.
‘The man was a witness to the . . . the disposal of the body. We’ve tried to buy him off, and failed. We’ve also tried intimidation, and that didn’t work either.’
‘So he’s got to go?’
The man in the suit nodded. ‘We believe so.’
‘You referred to “the man”,’ the partner pointed out. ‘That implies there is more than one target.’
‘Yes. There’s a woman, as well.’
‘They are together?’
‘Separate.’
‘Why do you. . . ?’
‘Just do it,’ the boss said, coming in heavily. ‘Do it, and we’ll pay the going rate. OK?’
‘Sure,’ said the thin, wiry man with an easy smile. ‘That’s why we’re here. We don’t like the idea of witnesses any more than you do.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Somehow we managed. Nancy produced an airbed and a quilt for me. They went on the bottom bunk, and I managed to lever myself on to it and lie down. Nancy went on the top bunk. The painkillers she administered did everything else. I took them, against my normal practice, because I knew I needed to get some sleep. They worked.
The next morning, surprisingly, I felt a bit better. I even managed to sit up.
‘You’ve passed the first test,’ an amused voice said from the top bunk.
I slowly got to my feet. ‘Been awake long, yourself?’
She shook her head and yawned. Then she swept a cas-cade of hair away from her face. ‘I’m not an early-morning fisherman,’ she said. ‘Later on suits me better.’
She looked wonderful, skin glowing, hair all over her face, coming to terms with the start of a new day. I would have given a lot to look as healthy as she did.
‘Got to get started,’ I said, reluctantly making some gentle stretching movements.
‘Right! Let’s do it. Breakfast?’
‘That would be good.’
Breakfast wasn’t up to much, but I didn’t complain. The coffee and the toast she served up helped get me ready for the day.
‘What are you going to do now?’ Nancy asked as we ate.
I hesitated, and then I told her. Why not? She was on my side, wasn’t she? Or I was on hers. I wasn’t sure which it was, but in practical terms it came to the same thing.
I had decided to visit Henry again. Getting beaten up had injected even more urgency into my enquiries. I needed to know more about what I was up against.
‘Right. I’ll come with you,’ Nancy announced when I told her.
‘I don’t think so,’ I said firmly. ‘This isn’t your fight.’
‘Not my. . . ?’ She powered into highly-indignant mode. It was impressive to see. ‘Now look here, Frank! I’m not too bothered about what happened to you, but I intend seeing justice done for James. Where you go today, I go. All right? Besides,’ she added, turning it down a bit, ‘you’re in no condition to drive.’
I believed she was wrong there, but I wasn’t entirely sure. I still suspected concussion. In fact, I was damned sure of it. I didn’t want to pass out at the wheel and risk wiping out some passing innocent – as well as myself, of course.
‘Can you drive a Land Rover?’
She looked at me scornfully. ‘Are you serious? What on earth do you think I grew up driving, on the plains of Africa?’
I shook my head. ‘I have no idea.’
‘At age ten, I could nearly change a tyre all by myself. As a teenager I could fix most things that go wrong with a Land Rover engine. A Land Rover was all I ever drove until I moved to the big city!’
I gave up. Obviously she was coming with me, as driver – and mechanic.
‘So a fishing boat’s easy, with all that experience behind you?’
‘Well,’ she said, relenting, ‘I’m not so good at the navigating or the fishing parts, but I can certainly cope with the boat’s engine.’
‘And there I was, the other day,�
�� I said with a chuckle, ‘thinking you were just a useless, hippy sort of woman.’
First, I phoned Bill Peart, to let him know the Geordies had been around again.
‘No,’ he said, in answer to my query, ‘we haven’t found them yet, and we don’t know who they are.’
‘The rental truck?’
‘The company said it had been stolen.’
‘A dead end, then.’
‘So far.’
There wasn’t anything else I could suggest.
‘What happened this time?’ he asked.
‘It wasn’t good, Bill. Three of them, and they jumped me. I got the worst of it. In fact, I never even laid a finger on any of them.’
I could tell he was surprised. It wasn’t often I had to admit to being bested.
‘How bad was it? How bad are you?’
‘I’ll be all right. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Sure?’
‘Yeah.’
Just then, Nancy called out from the doorway to somebody passing by.
‘Was that a woman’s voice?’ Bill asked suspiciously.
‘Boy, I can see why they made you a detective!’
‘I try to be helpful and sympathetic, and. . . .’
‘I know, I know. And all I can do is. . . . Your concern is appreciated, Bill. Got to go now. I’ll catch up with you later.’
We got to Middlesbrough mid-morning, and to Henry’s office not long afterwards. First, I collected some money from a cash-point and treated us both to a bacon sandwich and a strong coffee in a little café round the corner from the town hall.
‘My toast wasn’t enough for you?’ Nancy said sorrowfully. ‘Or not to your liking?’
‘It was excellent,’ I assured her, ‘but I feel the need for more sustenance before we meet Henry.’
‘Oh?’
‘We’re likely to end up in a pub,’ I told her. ‘No good going there on an empty stomach.’
‘Oh!’ She looked happy to hear that.
‘But I’m going to see Henry on my own first. I don’t want him clamming up on me just because there’s someone he doesn’t know with me. We’ll meet up afterwards. OK?’
She considered for a moment and then said, ‘And you will tell me everything he says?’
‘Of course.’
But I thought to myself: we’d have to see about that.
‘Do for you?’ Henry said over his shoulder in response to my gentle tap on his open door.
‘You’ve started early, son. It’s not even noon yet.’
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said without looking round.
Henry had a drink problem. He had always had one, which was possibly why he worked for himself rather than anyone else. Having said all that, drink rarely stopped him performing. He was good at what he did, very good, which was probably why he had no difficulty finding clients. They came looking for him, just as I had done – if you could count me as a client.
I sat down on the hard chair on the other side of his desk.
‘Good Christ!’ he said, looking up at last. ‘What the fuck happened to you?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Not something simple, like falling down the stairs after a couple too many, or being in a car crash?’
‘Nothing like that,’ I said, resisting the temptation to shake my head. ‘Anyway, I’m recovering now.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ Henry paused before adding with a frown, ‘Anything to do with this inquiry?’
‘It could be. I was told it was because I’m continuing to poke my nose into other people’s business.’
‘That right? You’d better not mention my name, then.’
‘Wild horses wouldn’t persuade me,’ I said solemnly.
‘No, of course they wouldn’t.’
He turned the monitor he had been using away and pushed a few sheets of paper aside. Then he leaned forward, elbows on desk, and said, ‘I’m puzzled, Frank.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘So far as I can see,’ Henry continued in steady, careful mode, ‘PortPlus don’t exist. At least, I can find nothing at all about them.’
I stared at him and shook my head.
‘You’re losing your touch, Henry. They exist, all right. I’ve been to their head office in Middlesbrough. I’ve met their CEO and chairman. They offered me work, for God’s sake! Mind you,’ I admitted, ‘I couldn’t find anything on them either.’
Henry just shrugged.
‘They reckon they have port operations in the States,’ I added.
‘Well. . . .’
A sharp knock on the door made Henry sit up and brought me wheeling round.
‘Henry?’ a voice said cautiously, as the door I had closed reopened.
‘Ah!’ Henry got up. ‘I was hoping you’d be here, Kenny.’
The new arrival looked like one of Henry’s drinking buddies. Burly, middle-aged, with a pug nose and a big face, he looked like a man who would soon be safely ensconced in the bar of the Blast Furnace. An old-school Middlesbrough man.
‘Kenny, this is Frank Doy, an old pal. Come and sit down. We were just talking about this PortPlus business.’
I didn’t like hearing that. I winced inwardly, wondering what confidential information Henry had revealed to a man I didn’t know.
I got up and shook hands with Kenny Douglas. He studied me with sharp eyes and an amused smile. I realized quickly he was someone to take seriously, despite appearances.
‘You’re the private eye Henry was on about?’ he growled. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Frank.’
‘Kenny works for Teesport,’ Henry said carefully. ‘He’s in a senior management position, with strategic financial responsibilities.’
I scolded myself for my doubts. I should have known better. Henry wouldn’t divulge information lightly.
‘I last looked like you do now,’ Kenny said bluntly, ‘when I got in a fight at the Royal Hotel in Port Clarence. Know it?’
I nodded. I did. Popular with steel erectors looking for cheap beds when construction was going on across the river, and quite likely closed now they’d all gone home. People didn’t stay long on the north shore of the Tees if they could help it.
‘They were tough blokes,’ Kenny added. ‘Far too good for me. I should have known better.’
‘These guys jumped me,’ I said rather lamely. ‘I’m ashamed of myself, me being a private eye, and all.’
‘Can happen to the best of us,’ he said cheerfully.
He turned to Henry. ‘Anything?’
Henry shook his head. ‘I was just telling Frank they don’t seem to exist. He disagrees.’
Kenny glanced at his watch. ‘I haven’t got a lot of time this morning. So I’ll tell you quickly what I know.’
‘About?’ I ventured.
‘Quite. We’ve heard the rumours, and the worries. We’ve had people coming to our door, demanding to know what’s going on. The press are on to it. So we know all about what’s supposed to be in the offing.
‘But here’s the rub. So far as we know, there’s nothing to it. There’s been no contact from a potential takeover bidder. Our shares are not doing anything unusual. So no-one is buying ready for a stealthy hostile bid. Nothing at all is happening. So far, it’s just rumours.’
He looked back at Henry, who nodded and said, ‘That’s what I’ve been telling Frank.’
‘Right,’ Kenny said. ‘I have to go. Nice meeting you, Frank. Let Henry know if you discover anything.’
He left, and Henry and I sat looking at each other, wondering where we went from here.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I wasn’t best pleased when I got back to the Land Rover.
‘Move over,’ I said curtly. ‘I’m driving.’
‘Like that, is it?’ Nancy said, staying put.
‘Move over. I’m not in the mood for arguments.’
Her face set hard. ‘Do I look like someone you can threaten? Do I look like a woman who will make way without
a fight for a man with broken ribs and a sore head?’
I sighed and stood still for a moment, hanging on to the open door, wondering why I’d allowed her to come.
‘I thought we were going to the Blast Furnace for lunch?’ she pointed out.
‘A pie and a pint, I’m sure I said.’
‘Well, then? I like pies and pints.’
I slammed the door shut and shuffled round to the other side. There was no way I could drive. I could hardly stand up.
‘Where to?’ she asked after I’d got in.
‘Just drive. I’ll tell you where to turn.’
I was in a foul mood. So PortPlus didn’t exist, didn’t it? We’d see about that.
‘What did Henry say?’
I grimaced but there was no way I could tell her. After all I’d said in praise of Henry and his skills as a forensic accountant, no way could I tell her he was useless, after all.
Bloody Henry! His buddy from Teesport was no better. To hell with both of them. A pair of drunks.
‘Right at the crossroads,’ I snapped. ‘Then second left.’
‘Over the border?’
‘Where the border used to be. How do you know about that, anyway?’
She just grinned.
The other side of the railway. That was something else that didn’t exist: the Border. Not now, anyway, and not for many years.
“Over the Border!”, or north of the railway, used to be hell on earth according to legend. Not nowadays. The streets of terraced houses in what had been the poorest and toughest part of town had all been knocked down, and most of the pubs with them. Now the area where Middlesbrough had started life had a scatter of spanking new buildings amid the dereliction, like new shoots on a bomb site.
‘So where are we going?’ Nancy asked.
I had cooled down by then. So I gave her a civil answer.
‘Henry and some bloke from Teesport told me PortPlus doesn’t exist. For my own peace of mind – my sanity, actually – I’m going back to the PortPlus head office to prove they’re wrong.’
‘I’m with you,’ Nancy said gravely.
I glanced sideways and saw the smile endangering her solemnity. My answering chuckle soon became a laugh. I couldn’t help it.
‘We’ll show them!’ I said, beginning to relax.
‘Yessir! We surely will,’ Nancy said, the very model of compliance.
It was a working day but there didn’t seem to be a lot happening in the PortPlus offices. Mine was the only vehicle in the car park. The front door, when we reached it, was shut and locked. I could see no-one inside, in the reception area.
A Death at South Gare Page 8