by Jacqui Rose
‘For goodness’ sake, you’ve got it the wrong way up.’ Brenda turned the map round without any warning, and promptly caught Andy’s eye with the corner of it.
With one hand held over his watery eye, Andy snapped in annoyance. ‘No, you’re wrong. It’s the other way.’ He turned it back round, attempting to straighten out the folds.
‘I think you’ll find it’s not.’ Brenda haughtily snatched the map again, spinning it round. It was all too much for Freddie.
‘Are you two trying to take the piss?’ They stared at him, bewildered. ‘Never mind. Never fucking mind.’ Freddie glanced at his watch. They needed to hurry. He turned the engine on putting the car into gear. While he was deciding which way to go, he heard a distinctive loud noise, the sound of a helicopter flying overhead. With no hesitation, Freddie wheel skidded the Fiesta straight across the junction and down the hill, following the distinctive grey helicopter.
The car bounced over the cattle grids, slamming down the suspension. Freddie could still see the helicopter ahead as he glanced up to the sky. He needed to get to the viewpoint as soon as possible. An unauthorised helicopter would certainly bring attention.
Racing down the road, Freddie’s heart dropped. From the corner of his eye he saw a white vehicle, then a blue flashing light. Instinct kicked in. He reached over to the dashboard, leaning for his gun, cocking the hammer of the M92 in readiness.
He needed more speed. His foot was right down on the pedal, pressed into the floor, yet he still wasn’t able to push the Fiesta past ninety. He could almost feel the police car on his tail. Shit. He had to think, but the noise from the back was beginning to distract him. He quickly glanced round to scream at Andy and Brenda who were in the throes of hysteria,
‘Shut up! Unless you want a bullet in your head.’ Almost immediately, they fell silent.
With a sudden movement, Freddie veered off the road, onto the bracken-covered moor. In his rear-view mirror he saw the police car furiously reversing back after shooting past. Then a sight he was hoping he wouldn’t see. Over the horizon, coming the other way, drenched in sunlight, were three more police vehicles, speeding up the road.
The Fiesta wasn’t going to outrun the police cars. The only thing Freddie could do was make a run for it. The viewpoint was just over the other side of the fell.
‘Take my phone. Last number. Call it.’ Freddie barked the order at Andy.
‘Voicemail. It’s just gone straight to voicemail.’
‘Fuck. Ok, find the name, Eddie. Call it.’
Andy’s fingers fumbled with the phone. ‘It’s ringing.’
‘Put it to my ear.’ Freddie anxiously looked in the driver’s mirror. He could feel the wheels of the car getting stuck in the ground and he pulled the Fiesta up, grabbing the phone from Andy. Freddie opened the door and jumped out, taking a quick glance round, trying to judge the distance between him and the police. Then he began to leg it.
Running with the gun in one hand and the phone in the other, Freddie stumbled over the heather. He had to talk to someone; this might be his last chance. He could see the helicopter four hundred meters in front but the police were gaining.
Freddie could feel the tightness in his lungs as he ran. He was panting hard and it felt like he could hardly breathe. He heard the click of the phone. ‘Ed! It’s Freddie, listen to me. Don’t say anything. Tash never turned up. I need you to sort it … Whatever happens, sort it.’
Without cutting off the phone, Freddie shoved the phone in his pocket as he tried to speed up. He ran, turning and shooting blindly behind him. Two hundred meters. He wasn’t going to make it. One hundred meters. He could see the helicopter just in front, hovering a couple of feet above the ground.
Glancing round, Freddie could see the police had fallen back after the shots were fired. Only another fifty meters. He pushed forward but as he did, he felt himself start to lose his balance. His foot landed in a hole, sending him sidewards, tumbling on to his side. He hit the ground, losing the grip on the gun, but pulled himself up quickly, running faster than he’d ever run before. The two policemen almost now catching back up with him.
The pain in Freddie’s chest was almost unbearable as he struggled for breath. The spinning helicopter blades muffled out all sounds.
‘Take my hand boss!’ one of Freddie’s men yelled, reaching out his hand as the helicopter began to rise into the air. Freddie grabbed on. For a moment, he thought he was going to be pulled in two as his men held onto his arms and two police officers held on to his legs. He heard shots being fired and a moment later the grip on his legs were released.
Freddie was pulled into the helicopter on his stomach as it soared above the moors. He sat up, watching as the figures below got smaller and smaller until they became small dots. He leant back, his eyes closed but there was no relief. Tasha had betrayed him and the only thing Freddie Thompson felt was hate. Pure, revengeful, hatred.
Eddie clicked off the phone.
‘Who was that Ed?’
He gazed at the woman and sighed. He looked at her tits, her curvaceous body, her red puckered lips and his wasted erection. Getting off the bed without saying anything, he started to get dressed. Heading for the door, Eddie decided Freddie owed him big time.
28
Eddie Davidson couldn’t have been more pissed-off if he tried. He was frustrated for a few reasons. One, he hadn’t had the shag he’d so carefully lined up. Two, he hadn’t been able to track Tasha down, and three, unless he was being paranoid, it seemed every television channel had his face on it.
The problem was, to find Tasha he had to start speaking to people. And speaking to people meant the likelihood of being caught was ever more present.
He had a lot of time for Freddie. Owed him a lot and his loyalty to him never came into dispute. But it didn’t stop Eddie wanting to wring his neck at this moment. By rights he should be tucked up in bed getting his balls sucked by a Tom, whilst another sat on his face. Instead, he was being Freddie’s foot-soldier, something he’d never signed up for. Then again, who did sign up with Freddie? Freddie was the type of man who told you what to do and there was never any question of not doing it, unless of course you wanted to end up bobbing in the Thames.
He’d been looking forward to getting back to London. The north had never been his bag. Come to think of it, he couldn’t actually think of a place where he’d ever felt at home, apart from the streets of Soho.
He had a mate in Portugal who ran a bar. The idea of going over there had briefly passed through his mind, but the idea of spending the rest of his days in the sun and not waking each day to the grimy smells, sounds and sights of London was more than he could bear the thought of. And even if it meant having to look over his shoulder for the rest of his life, he was more than willing to take the chance if it meant being able to have a cup of Rosie Lee in Lola’s Cafe on Berwick Street.
However, he was now stuck with his nose to the ground, still up north looking for Tash, who no doubt was blanketed up with some geezer. Eddie sighed and rubbed his balls. They were aching. He had to try to stop thinking about getting laid. It really wasn’t helping.
Freddie had told him to sort it. And Eddie knew exactly what that meant. It was a shame really; Tasha was one of the good ones. It was still hard to believe that she’d betrayed Freddie. He would never have thought it of her, other than the fact Tash was a woman. No matter how well you thought you knew them, eventually they’d screw you over.
When he’d been working for Freddie full time, Tash had always looked out for him. She’d opened her house and made him feel welcome. And although it’d been her personal chef who’d cooked the meals and the maid who’d made up the bed for him when he’d needed to crash out, it’d been Tash who’d made him feel he was part of something special.
Eddie never had a family himself and it hadn’t really bothered him. He didn’t know who his mum and dad were, and he was more than happy for it to stay like that. How he saw it was they didn’t owe him
anything and he didn’t owe them. Like everything in his life, he’d just got on with it.
He’d been dumped in a children’s home when he’d been six months old and left when he was sixteen. The closest he’d got to family besides Tasha and Freddie had been his missus, until he’d caught her with the next-door neighbour’s cock in her mouth. And he’d dealt with it the only way he knew how. An axe in her head.
The psychiatrist who did a probation report told the court he had all the classic signs of betrayal bond and abandonment syndrome. Both diagnoses Eddie had found to be utter bullshit. He didn’t know one man who wouldn’t have done the same if they’d found their other half with a face full of hairy balls.
Crouching down behind the car park wall, Eddie kept his eyes on the receptionist of the hotel Tash had been staying at. She was the person he needed to talk to, though from what he could see of her she looked like she had her finger tightly up her arse. Getting information out of her might prove tricky. There was only one thing for it. The Eddie Davidson charm.
The receptionist rummaged in her bag to find some change.
‘Here you go, get yourself a cup of tea.’ Eddie looked at her in bewilderment as she tried to give him a handful of coppers. The cheeky cow thought he was a tramp. How on earth she could mistake him for one, Eddie didn’t know. Okay, maybe he hadn’t slept as much as he’d liked to have done, and the copious amount of cocaine he’d taken to keep him awake hadn’t done his skin any favours. But a tramp? She was having a giggle.
He was wearing some pukka designer gear which he’d got off the doc who’d sorted his arm out so it couldn’t be the clothes. Perhaps it was the glasses he was wearing; making him look like a numpty. But better a numpty than being caught. It was amazing how something so simple could disguise who he was and take away his handsome looks.
Eddie decided perhaps a little bit more was needed, aside from charm alone. ‘I ain’t no tramp darling, but I appreciate the gesture. Nice to see a woman with a heart for once.’ Eddie smiled his best smile, breathing his stale breath all over the woman.
‘You know you shouldn’t be here. This is private property.’
‘I know but I’m trying to find somebody. An old friend.’
‘Then what are you doing in a car park? I doubt you’d find him here.’
‘Her. She’s a her.’
‘Well whatever, but as I say, you need to leave, otherwise I’ll have no choice but to phone security.’
He’d been right. She was a haughty cow.
‘She’s been staying in your hotel. I haven’t seen her and I’m a bit worried.’
‘I can’t possibly divulge guest information sir.’
‘No?’ Eddie went into his pocket and pulled out a wad of fifty-pound notes. He saw the receptionist licking her lips as if about to taste something nice.
‘This might change your mind.’
Looking left to right, the receptionist’s face took on a softer appearance. ‘Not here. There’s a pub two streets away called The Oceania; I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.’
Money talked. It always had, and as far as Eddie could see, it always would.
‘So what happened to not divulging guest information?’
The receptionist looked flustered as she took a sip of her house white wine.
‘I’m only trying to help. If you think it’s about the money; it’s not. I just don’t like the idea of someone not being able to find their friend.’
‘Well if that’s the case, you won’t want paying.’
Eddie thought the woman was going to choke. She spluttered her mouthful of wine on her chin and on the table as her cheeks turned red.
‘I didn’t say that … I …’
Seeing Eddie laughing at her, the receptionist stood up, affronted.
‘Listen, I don’t have to take this from you and I don’t have to help.’
‘Sit down darling, we both know what you want, so less of the performance.’
‘I won’t be made fun of.’
‘I’m sorry, okay? How does that suit you?’
‘I suppose.’
Eddie rolled his eyes. The one good thing about being inside was it had meant he hadn’t had to deal with the female of the species.
‘Tasha Thompson. She’s a guest of yours.’
‘Yes, I know her. The police came wanting to talk to her. You’re not the police are you?’
Eddie scrunched up his face. He preferred to be called a tramp than the Old Bill. ‘Don’t insult me darling.’
‘Why do you want her?’
‘I’m asking the questions. When was the last time you saw her?’
‘The other day.’
‘Don’t you find that peculiar?’
‘No. She’s a long-term guest which means she’s paid three months in advance, so what she does or doesn’t do is no concern of ours. She’s free to come and go as she pleases. It’s a hotel, not a prison.’
The mention of the word prison had Eddie squirming in his seat. ‘Okay, but have you any idea where she was going the last time you saw her?’
‘No.’
‘You’re not being very helpful for someone who wants to earn a few bob.’
‘All I know is the last time I saw her she said she was going to the hospital and then cancelled her lunch and then something about a man called Arnold.’
Eddie sat up. This was the sort of information he wanted to hear, though he didn’t expect Freddie did. ‘Arnold?’
‘Yes.’
This was becoming hard work now. ‘Who’s Arnold?’
‘Her boyfriend I think, or he was. I used to see him about a lot. Tall, very good looking, but quiet. Anyhow, he stayed over a few times. It’s really against hotel policy but as she was a long-term guest the hotel chose to turn a blind eye. I can’t remember when it was but he started calling several times a day. Could have been as many as twenty times.’
‘He was psycho dialling?’
‘Well I wouldn’t put it like that, but it was lots of times. She wouldn’t take his calls and then she asked me not to take any messages. She even wanted me to tell him she’d checked out.’
‘How did he feel about that?’
‘I don’t know because he hasn’t phoned back. I’m glad really. I’m not really good at lying.’
‘No, I’m sure you’re not darling.’
The receptionist cut a look at Eddie, wondering if he was being sarcastic or not, but he held his face steady, not giving away any clues. Still unsure, the woman carried on.
‘Anyhow that’s all I know.’
‘What was this Arnold’s last name?’
‘I don’t know, like I say sir it’s a …’
‘Hotel not a prison. I know, I know. There must be something else.’
‘No. If you like I can call Pete.’
‘Who the hell’s Pete?’
‘The hotel car park manager. He keeps records for a month of all the car registration plates. He should have Arnold’s. I know Mrs Thompson asked for a permit a couple of times for him to be able to park.’
Eddie’s face lit up. Bingo. ‘You, my darling, have earned every penny.’
29
Tasha Thompson stared in dread. She’d watched as Arnie had sat in the corner rocking, muttering numbers under his breath. He’d been sitting there for what seemed like an eternity but according to the clock on the wall it’d only been just over an hour. She’d also watched as he’d switched between crying and rage. Head buried in his hands one minute, shouting and waving his hands around the next. And now, to Tasha’s horror, he was starting to sing. A song about her. Or who he thought she was. A song about Izzy.
‘Izzy sweet, Izzy mild, Izzy sweet my little …’
‘Stop! Stop … I’m Tasha. Arnie, it’s me.’
Arnold looked at Tasha, his eyes red and puffy from crying. He crawled across to her on his hands and knees, gazing up into her face curiously.
‘Don’t you like it? Don’t you like my song?’ H
e reached out and touched her leg. Immediately Tasha recoiled, slamming her back into the wall, pressing herself as far away from him as she could.
‘Please, Arnie. You’ve got the wrong person. I don’t know who this Izzy is. I swear. Just let me go … please.’
The thunderous bellow made Tasha freeze.
‘Why do you keep saying that to me Izzy? Why are you teasing me? Stop playing games with me.’ Arnie’s eyes flashed in anger, his pupils hugely dilated. He put his hands over his face and sat motionless on the floor.
His fingers started to spread open, stretching across his face and exposing his eyes through the gaps. ‘Peek-a-boo. I can see you!’ High-pitched laughter exploded from Arnie. A second later, Tasha burst into tears.
Arnie reached up, grabbing hold of Tasha who was violently trembling.
‘I’m sorry Izzy. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t mean to shout. Say you’ll forgive me.’ He smiled at her and carefully placed the restraint over her mouth again.
He stared at her for a minute, transfixed, then leapt up from the floor, sitting next to Tasha on the tiny sofa bed. He began to stroke her hair. Whispering quietly, he nuzzled his head into her neck as she sat shivering naked.
‘It just makes it so hard for me; for us, when you play the pretend game Izzy. It spoils what we need to do, especially as today is our special day.’ Tasha’s body didn’t move, only her eyes, looking down at the knife Arnie held in his hand.
The intensity was broken by Arnie bounding up from the bed. He ran across to his CD player and pressed play. Tasha watched in horror. This was worse than him screaming at her. He was acting as if nothing was wrong.
‘I think this is the best version of the song, don’t you?’ He smiled warmly, shuffling his feet to the sound of ‘Feels Like I’m in Love’ by Kelly Marie.
‘Oh this is the part; this part’s my favourite.’ Arnie giggled as he sang out the chorus in a low droning voice. He was about to launch into the next verse when he looked across at Tasha. He stopped as he noticed for the first time the tears running down her face.