by Ray Banks
"Yeah, Kevin's on the pit. Dave doesn't care. Go on, get yourself a coffee or something."
She beamed at me. "Cheers, Graham."
And off she went, a sway in her step that was supposed to make her backside look shapely, but which made her look as if she'd soiled herself. I waited until she was gone, then hopped round the desk and shook the mouse at her computer. It brought up the Sovereign database, which was my gateway to the members.
A few clicks later, and I had Pollard's address.
I grabbed a pad and a pen and noted down his details, then switched out the database to the member Janine had been looking at. I got out from behind the desk and quick-walked out of the reception. No doubt Dave would kick off with Janine for leaving the reception unmanned, but that really wasn't my problem anymore.
It was every man for himself.
24
Nice and early the next morning, I drove out to Pollard's place in Alderley Edge. His was a detached house, a newish build on an estate of similar properties, all of them sprawling and sporting long drives that terminated in wrought iron gates. It was new money all around here, with the kind of taste you bought out of a catalogue.
As I neared the house, I saw the gates standing open and a number of cars parked on the front drive. I pulled in outside the gates and got out of the Corsa. I was wearing my suit, just in case. I didn't know how he would take to having me turn up in my civvies, so I thought it was best to be as formal as possible. When I saw he was having a party, I was glad that I'd made the effort.
My shoes crunched gravel as I walked up the drive. I looked around at the side of the house and saw a bouncy castle. Inside, three kids of various ages were throwing themselves around like they were invincible.
I took a deep breath. Not the best time for a discussion about armed robbery, but it was now or never. Maybe Pollard was more likely to keep his temper if there were other people around. It was a weak hope, but a hope nonetheless.
I headed round to the side of the house. A large crowd had developed in the massive back garden. People stood with drinks in their hands, watching the kids in the bouncy castle, watching others on the small fairground that had been set up in the far corner of the garden. Everyone I saw looked old and cheap in that hard-drinking, working class way as they shifted uncomfortably inside their designer clothes. A large table strained under a mountain of brightly wrapped presents. Another groaned with cake, a large fairy princess triple-tier pink confection surrounded by cupcakes. My stomach growled at the sight of them, but there were too many people around to sneak one away. The area around the back of the house was decked, and at one end of the decking stood Pollard, his back to me, in front of a large barbeque. I smiled and coughed. My throat was dry. I picked up a cup of juice and downed it. I didn't want to sound mealy when I reached the grill.
"Mr Pollard."
He turned sharply at the sound of my voice. His mouth was open, some curse word rattling around in the back of his throat, gaining a little volume when he saw the empty cup in my hand.
Admittedly, that didn't look great. I put it down.
"How did you get in here?"
"Just round the side there."
"The fuck" – the word was muttered, a momentary drop in volume – "are they doing?"
"Who?"
"Supposed to be a couple of lads ... Doesn't matter, come on." He grabbed my arm and marched me towards the kitchen, smiling and nodding at his guests as we went. I looked behind me and saw a large man with hair climbing out the back of his T-shirt take over at the grill. There was a sizzle and a shout as he flipped something.
Once we were inside the house, Pollard yelled for Jez. Jez passed the door, a little girl on his shoulders. She was screaming and giggling, and she wore pink fairy wings. She was beating Jez on the back of the head with a fairy wand. He stopped at the sound of Pollard's voice. When he saw me, Jez frowned and his eyes grew wide. He hauled the girl off his back and set her down on the decking. She ran off. He gestured to someone out of sight, pointed into the house and then came in, making a noise that sounded as if someone was letting the air out of him.
"Yeah, Michael fuckin' Dudikoff, isn't he?" Pollard let me go, gestured to his left. "Take him through to the den, will you?"
"You crashing, are you?"
I held up both hands. "No, wait, listen to me—"
It was Jez's turn to grab me now, and his fingers clamped tightly around my arm as he dragged me towards the door. Pollard turned to leave and I felt like shouting his name, but I knew I'd be in even bigger trouble if I did that. He caught my look and fought back with a warning glare and a finger. "I'll see you in a minute, alright? Let Jez take you through."
Jez kept ushering me away. I noticed a shared glance that did nothing for my blood pressure and made my stomach knot. Jez shoved me towards a double door. I went on ahead, my legs trembling.
"Open it."
I did as I was told. And when I opened the doors, I saw the last thing in the world I wanted to see.
Plastic. All over the den floor.
"Wait, no." I turned, panicking.
Jez smacked me in the face. White lights flared, something exploded behind my sinuses and I was halfway to the plastic before I knew I was falling. I dropped, landed on my keys, the jab of pain against my thigh momentarily upstaging the pain from my nose. I felt something warm and sticky dribbling out over my top lip, but couldn't see through the tears in my eyes. I tried to get up. I didn't know why I needed to get up, but I tried to anyway. Someone kicked me in the chest. I lost my breath and sprayed blood across the plastic. Another kick to the back, and it felt as if something electric snapped in my spine. I scraped some breath and yelled it out. More kicks followed, piling pain onto pain across the small of my back, my lungs screaming for oxygen so I could scream myself. I threw out a hand, tried to pull myself out of the way, but they'd surrounded me. I didn't know how many, but there were enough to keep me cornered and crying. After a while, the pain became too much, my body and legs knotted with burning bruises, my head ringing with the agony in my nose. I dragged my knees up to my stomach, hunched my shoulders and held on, curled into a ball on the floor. They continued for a dozen more kicks, but they were listless blows. Soon I was left alone. I rocked slightly, breathed harshly through my mouth into a puddle of my nose blood.
I opened one eye. Jez stared back, and another man who was built like a He-Man action figure shifted behind him.
Jez sneered at me. "Fuckin' baby."
I closed my eye again. There was blood in my mouth.
The door opened and closed. I could hear the sound of shoes on plastic as Jez and his mate took off to either side. I could feel Pollard standing there looking at me. I could hear him breathing. He crossed the room.
When I opened my eyes, I saw him sitting in a large, comfortable chair a few feet away. He crossed his legs, his jeans riding up to show one hairy ankle.
I watched him. I swallowed. Blood coated the back of my tongue. I wanted to throw up.
He watched back. His face was blank, but I knew that I wasn't allowed to speak until I was spoken to. And when he finally spoke, his voice was low and his tone was disappointed. "My little girl's birthday today. She's seven. She's got all her mates round, she's got loads of presents, loads of cake, ice cream, jelly, the lot. Special day for her. I'm not going to have anyone ruin it."
I spluttered the words before they became intelligible. "I'm sorry ..."
"She's busy. She'll be busy all day. Doesn't give a fuck what her dad's doing. So I can take my time. I can keep you here all week if I want to. I can keep you here as long as I want and I can do whatever I want, because my little girl doesn't give a shit, my wife can be trusted and the boys here ... well, they're happy to do whatever I tell them to do, aren't you, boys?"
Jez and He-Man agreed. They enjoyed their jobs. The prospect of doing it for days on end was just living the dream.
"So you're lucky. Because if I'd been in a hurry, there's
a good chance you wouldn't be fuckin' breathing now. Would've just taken you somewhere nice and quiet and dropped you." Pollard shifted a little in his chair. He held out his hand and clicked his fingers. Jez offered him a cigarette. Pollard curled his lip. "Fuckin' Marlboro Lights? What you trying to do?"
"Sorry."
"Might as well not bother." He ripped the filter from the end of the cigarette and tossed it onto the plastic next to my head. "Give us your light, you fuckin' student."
Jez handed Pollard his lighter. Pollard lit his cigarette and blew smoke, then waved Jez away so he became the centre of attention once more. "My missus doesn't like me smoking in the house, especially with the little one. But the way I see it, the place is going to get painted tomorrow, so it's going to stink of fuckin' matte for the foreseeable anyway. Truth be told, I'm trying to give up. It's not good for you, and I've got the kid and everything, so you've got to think about secondary smoke and all that. That's the thing, Graham. When you have kids of your own, you'll understand this. You've got to think about other people. It's not all about you and what you want. Clearly this is something that needs to be explained to you, Graham. Clearly you're a man who doesn't believe in delayed gratification, am I right?"
I didn't say anything. Too scared to have an answer.
"Or are you here for a reason? Because I'll tell you, Graham, you've got us thinking that something's gone wrong. Has something gone wrong?"
I shook my head.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"You heard from that plod, that whatshisname—"
Jez chipped in. "Kennedy."
"Kennedy. You spoke to him in the hospital, didn't you?"
I nodded this time.
"So he's the man on the job. He told you anything?"
"No."
"So what are you doing here? If it's not finished, what the fuck d'you think you're doing?"
"I gave them a name."
"Whose name?"
"Stephen Laird."
"Who?"
"He's an inspector. He left in a hurry." I shifted on the plastic. My back ached. I stopped before the pain got too much, waved a hand at Pollard. "Apparently he just did one from the club. Left his job, left his flat, the whole lot, didn't tell anyone about it."
"Where'd he go?"
"Nobody knows. Probably the ships."
"And how does this help me?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
It didn't help him. It helped me.
"It's ... I've diverted the investigation away from us."
"But it's still ongoing."
"I don't know."
"And it's probably going to take longer now, isn't it? You know, while they follow this bollocks lead of yours to its natural conclusion."
"I don't ..." I shook my head. My neck hurt. "Maybe."
"I thought we had a deal, Graham. I thought we agreed that we wouldn't see each other until this was all done and fuckin' dusted."
"I tried to call."
"And?" He smiled, but there was no humour in it. "For a bright lad, you have a hell of a time taking the fuckin' hint, don't you?"
Jez laughed. I glanced across at him. His hands were fists.
I looked at the plastic. There was a pool of bloody spit near my hand. I wiped my top lip and tried to sit back. Pain flared in my side. I tried not to show it, but failed miserably. Pollard watched me the way a kid with a magnifying glass watches ants on a sunny day.
"You just want your cut, don't you? That's why you're here. You thought you could come round and muscle us. Thought you'd play the family card, expose the holes in my security like a fuckin' proper hard arse." He tapped ash onto the plastic. "Ballsy, like. Or just disrespectful."
"I just wanted to tell you—"
"You thought I was going to stiff you, didn't you?"
I looked at him. I started shaking. I couldn't hide it. Couldn't deny it. "Yes."
His smile became a grin. His propped foot dropped to the floor. He leaned forward. He smelled like smoke and the smell made me want to puke, but I couldn't because I was hurting too much and I knew that vomiting would hurt even more and I didn't want to add to it.
"A man what doesn't trust another man isn't trustworthy himself. Least, that's the experience I've always had. Bloke thinks he can't trust you, it's normally because he's setting it up to rip you off and hopes you don't do it to him before he gets a chance to do it you."
I started to shake my head, but he grabbed my chin with one hand and held it tight and still. I whimpered. I wanted to go home. I wanted my bed. My legs hurt. My back hurt. My bladder felt painfully full.
"You, Graham, you're one of them lads who think they're cleverer than everyone else."
"No."
"Yeah, you do. Even when you're fuckin' caught. You don't know any different."
He was going to kill me. I knew it. He was going to kill me and steal my money. I should have stayed away. I should have called the police. I should have done the right thing. I breathed out. It came out jagged and sore and sounding like I was trying to hold back the sobs, which I was. "No."
"Yes, son." He let go of me. Leaned back and wiped his hands on his jeans as he sat back in the chair. "But I'm a man of my word, Graham. You might be an untrustworthy little rat, but I'm a man with a certain reputation, and that reputation wasn't built on the back of fucking people over for the sake of twenty-odd grand. So you'll get your money when you're due you're money. I told you before and you didn't listen, which is why the lads here gave you a fuckin' hiding. I'm not going to tell you again."
Pollard looked up at Jez, who grabbed me under one arm and hauled me to my feet. As he did, the combined pain of every single kick and punch lanced through me as one. I gasped, doubled up, and lost control. A dark patch appeared on the front of my suit trousers and, as I stood there trembling and weak, continued to spread until my thighs burned.
He-Man started laughing. It was a high-pitched, hysterical sound. "Watch yourself, Jez. You got a pisser."
"Ah, you scruffy cunt." I heard Jez back off, holding me at arm's length like a naughty puppy. I looked at the floor, a puddle of urine forming on the plastic at my feet. I shook in Jez's grip. I wanted to cry, but couldn't find the strength or the tears.
"Let him go, Jez."
Jez let me go. I dropped to one knee, put my hand in the puddle. I struggled back upright, wiped my wet hand on my trouser leg and stared down at Pollard. He moved his mouth, then stuck the cigarette between his lips and nodded to Jez and the other one. I felt hands on my elbows. I splashed through the puddle as they hustled me to the door and out the back. Each step sent fresh pain through my legs and back. I stumbled twice, felt myself dragged and kicked the floor until I was hobbling again. When they finally threw me back against the Corsa, the impact made me think I was about to black out. I held on. Heard He-Man's girly laughter as they watched me struggle to stay upright.
"Off you go, Graham. Bye bye."
I pulled open the driver's door and got in the car. I fumbled in one damp pocket for my keys, then started the engine. Jez and He-Man watched me as I pulled away from the drive. I glanced at them in the rear view mirror and wished cancer on them both.
Then I made myself smile. Because as exhausted, disgusting and in pain as I was, I was still leaving with my life, which meant there was hope. And that was enough for the time being.
25
It was a long drive home, especially when my trousers were soaked through and stinking. Every time I pressed the clutch with my foot, my leg seized up, locked with pain. For the first couple of miles, I could barely see for the tears. I didn't want to cry. I wanted to keep it all in, bottle it up, but it was impossible to maintain. So I sobbed and I rubbed a sleeve across my eyes and I kept my speed low so I didn't crash and ruin an already ruined day. I knew how stupid I must have looked. Somehow that knowledge made it all the worse.
When I got to the car park, I killed the engine and sat for a moment. My hands were
still shaking. I didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve that kind of humiliation. I didn't deserve to be laughed at. I didn't deserve to smell like this. I didn't deserve to suffer like this.
I breathed out. Something had to be done.
And when I looked up, there he was.
Detective Inspector Kennedy.
I had no idea how he got into the car park, but I knew why he was there. He was waiting for me. I stared at him. Sniffed. Wiped my face. He smiled and looked away, as if to give me some privacy. I looked down at my lap and realised that I wasn't going to be able to pass this off as anything other than what it was.
I wanted to cry again. Swallowed. The inside of my mouth tasted like metal and salt. It would be okay. I needed to man up and face this. Kennedy probably just had a couple of questions, and I'd answer them, and then I'd be on my way, and so would he, and everything would be okay again. I could regroup and come up with a new plan.
I looked down at my lap. It was stained, but as long as I kept his attention on my face, I'd be alright. I opened the car door and grabbed a newspaper from the dash to cover my crotch. "Inspector Kennedy."
He raised a hand in greeting. Another smile. "Sorry for turning up unannounced."
"Not a problem. We didn't have anything arranged, did we?"
"No, I just thought I'd catch you before you went to work. Is that okay?"
"Not at all." I walked towards the block, trying not to limp. "Your sergeant not with you today?"
"No, he's not. Had other business." He followed. "Are you alright? Your nose—"
"Nose bleed. Happens sometimes. Very embarrassing. What was it you wanted?"
"Just a few follow-up questions about the other night, if you don't mind."
"Yeah, fine. Listen, I meant to talk to you about something, actually."
"Yeah?"
"Yes, there's a rumour going around the club that maybe it was an inside job." I opened the door to the lobby. It creaked. I leaned against it to relieve the pressure on my leg.
Kennedy glanced down at my trousers. "Yeah, we heard about that."