A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2)

by Edward Holmes

  “Not something I really have a choice over,” I said as I put on the baggy blue shorts that gave my legs a good range of motion. My eyes remained on Micky who I could see in the changing room being rubbed down and having his gloves put on.

  “True but still brave. I’m Tony, I work as the cut man here, been with Max since we were kids. He may be tough but he is fair. In this place you don’t get anything without paying for it with sweat and blood,” he said taking my hands and beginning to wrap them.

  It was strangely comfortable having my hands wrapped tightly like that again, taking me back to my youth of boxing for the force. I wasn’t the best of fighters but I could pick a punch and was clever enough to move when I needed to. My career was however cut short in a brutal match were I broke three ribs early on. In agony and struggling to breathe I struggled on till the fight was over. I lost of course, I mean I barely threw a punch just protected myself but it gained me a reputation for being hardheaded and stubborn.

  That experience was going to have to count for a lot now as well as the martial arts training I had undertaken. Problem was I’d learnt grapples and takedowns, moves that I wouldn’t be able to do with my hands in boxing gloves. Sure I could try and manhandle the bloke but I knew how difficult that would be without being able to gain purchase. The other problem was that a lot of the attacks I had learnt in for example Krav Maga, the deadly Israeli martial art, involved strikes with my fingers. Most of my skills would be negated in there coupled with the fact that I was also a lot older than the kickboxer.

  “Thanks for this,” I said to Tony as he tightened my gloves and handed me a boil and bite gumshield.

  “Don’t thank me son, you’re about to get a battering. I just want to make sure you have the best chance of staying alive in there. Micky is going to be a world champ one day and you’ll get to see that first hand in the ring. He won’t knock you out early though; , no Max’ll want to see you hurt for coming in here, especially since we don’t like busies,” Tony told me and as if to emphasise his point he tightened my gloves even further.

  “I ain’t a copper.”

  “Then why you here?”

  “I’ve got a debt to pay to an old friend and Fraser might have some information that can help me. I just want to make sure that Morrison doesn’t go down for a murder he didn’t commit,” I said taking a long drink from the tepid water bottle at the side.

  Tony just nodded, “Well then you better get in there. Boss man said no headguard for you either.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” was all I could manage as I climbed into the ring and put in the gumshield. It didn’t fit properly but I was happy that I had one. I tried to stretch myself and get warm snapping out some jabs and moving my feet on the canvas. The corner where I had entered it was wet to aid grip and I stood there waiting for Micky.

  The professional fighter waited till someone put on the Sarama music. I was told by Tony that is was ceremonial and watched as Micky made his way to the ring bowing in prayer in all prayer to all four sides and then made a lap of honour. If I wasn’t nervous as hell about the fight starting I could probably have enjoyed the rhythmic music and the intricacies of his technique as Micky performed an aggressive dance before me. I knew it was over when he stomped loudly in my direction then Fraser got in the ring and the sounds cut out.

  “Right I want a clean fight; no low blows although they are allowed in Thai we’ll be easy on you copper and no rabbit punches. The will be three, three minute rounds. If there is a knockdown you go to a neutral corner. All points of contact are allowed that’s elbows, knees, shins, kicks and punches to you, Harper. Now touch gloves,” Fraser ordered and we did as told. Throughout all of the prefight ceremony and now in the ring I’d stared at Micky. I was trying to show no fear and intimidate him. To be honest I don’t think it worked.

  Stood in my corner I turned my back on Micky for the first time and crossed myself and said a little prayer. Looking down I saw Tony staring up at me, “Watch his high kicks and the elbows.”

  “Thanks,” I said as he rubbed petroleum jelly on my eyebrows.

  “I just don’t want him smashing you up too badly, bloods a bugger to get out of the canvas.”

  The music began again before I could say anything and the bell rang. Turning I sighed and walked out as Micky stalked forward. Now if you have never seen a Muay Thai fight you may be surprised by the music that plays and the ferocity of the action. Micky seemed to move with the music his hands open more than my own and he stood nearly square on to me. My training had me in a fighting stance side on to my attack and hands raised. I soon realised why he was in a different posture as he delivered a strong right kick to my back that pushed me sideways and nearly off balance.

  The strength of the man was outstanding and he kept kicking at my legs and shins that soon ached and reddened. I moved as quickly as I could out of reach and tentatively kicked low back at him as I didn’t have the flexibility to reach higher up. That was probably a good thing considering the quickness of his reflexes. Micky kicked me away with a standing kick that guided me towards a corner before unloading a flurry of punches at my body. I blocked as many as possible before I grabbed him in a bear hug-like clinch. I was bigger than him and was strong enough to throw his oiled and sweaty body into the corner. Unfortunately I wasn’t expecting him to begin hitting me with strong knees that had me struggling for breath.

  My ribs ached and I covered them as I moved away. He followed that up with a high kick which caught me on the left side of my face snapping my head to the side. Unsteady on my feet he moved in and delivered more punches to my ribcage with quick uppercuts. Getting in that close in boxing would be a brilliant idea in a straight boxing match but I lashed out with a right elbow that caught Micky on the side of his head cutting him on the eyebrow and forcing him away. As he fell to that side I delivered a right knee to his stomach. That sort of attack would normally double over a man but it just hit his sturdy muscles and moved him away. I was hoping to press my advantage but the bell rang and Fraser who had been acting as the referee put a hand on my chest and pushed me away towards my corner.

  Three minutes might not sound like a lot but it is constant movement as well as maintaining balance and breathing. So by the time I sat down on the wooden stool provided by Tony I was shattered and soaked in sweat. It was demanding to try and punch down on the smaller man and I was feeling it in my muscles. Through laboured breaths I took on water, “How’d I do?”

  “Remember when I said you were a brave man? Well I’m agreeing with Max now, you’re just stupid. Micky doesn’t like getting hit and you’ve gone and cut him. The boy is going to tear you apart now.”

  “Fine, let’s just hope he does it quickly,” putting my mouthguard back in I stretched my neck and rolled my shoulders. My opponent had stayed standing in his corner glaring at me as his team worked on massaging his muscles and treating the damage to his eye as best they could.

  The bell went and I moved quickly to the centre of the ring. I was going to fight it out my way from now on. He kicked me as his opening attack again and I offered a small smile. His kicks were quick but timed and he was throwing the same combinations over and over. I was still getting a battering but I was able to counter now with jabs and hooks of my own which caught him off guard and further damaged his cut eyebrow, the blood now dripping down his face and onto his chest.

  The fact I was still standing was infuriating the younger man and he increased his intensity twice lifting me and physically hurling me to the canvas. Each time I got back up but was severely bruised. Luckily I knew how to cushion my falls but took my time standing taking precious seconds off the clock. Micky just danced in the corner waiting for me, showboating to the cheers of the watching crowd which I barely noticed, so focussed was I on the task at hand.

  The second round ended with me once again on the floor this time from a great combo of moves that showed the skill of the man. I was busy using my shin to block one of his kicks
when Micky swung low with his foot and caught the back of my knee I bent it slightly as the other foot landed splaying myself before he unleashed a hook full on the face dropping me to the ground and I landed with a bump the back of my head bouncing off the canvas and rattling my teeth. The bell went as I lay there and struggled back to my feet and over to the waiting stool.

  This time I was knackered and put my arms on the ropes trying to breathe as best I could. Tony rubbed my back and the shoulders that ached with exertion and then gave me some water, “You’re going to be sore tomorrow, especially when he unloads on you in this round.”

  “I need to win this Tony, so there is no way I’m going to let him beat me.”

  “Win? You’ll be lucky to walk out of this alive. He’s going to come out even faster now.”

  I didn’t really want to talk so just kept staring out. Fraser was over in the other corner looking over his fighter. He was coaching him and from the animated way he spoke and moved I took some solace from the fact I was making Micky work harder than they expected.

  The bell rang again and I was quickly in the middle once more. My watching paid off almost immediately as he came out with the same attack I had noted in the other rounds. Two low left kicks followed by a right kick to the midriff and then usually a left straight with power to push me back. This time when he delivered his right kick I caught his leg pinning it to my side and punched him flush in the face.

  Fraser yelled, “One step you can hold for one step,” which was all I needed as I moved in driving my right knee into his ribcage and pushing him back into the ropes. I then snapped out two jabs and then a right hook that had Micky reeling towards the corner. The smaller man was fitter than me but I was stronger and bullied him with body blows and a knees.

  I did however push him too far as my head dropped as I brought three quick uppercuts to his stomach. When I did that Micky took advantage and delivered his own trio, this time of elbows that hit on my shoulder and weakened me straight away especially as one landed on the back of my neck. He didn’t stop as I fell to my knees and the next I knew Fraser was in-between us and yelling at his charge for illegal use of the elbow. They moved to a neutral corner and I took my time getting to my feet.

  The trainer slash referee came over, “I’m sorry about that, he got a little carried away. You fine to continue?”

  To say I was surprised was an understatement so I just nodded and beckoned the other fighter towards me with my gloved hand. I caught the look of shock and what I thought might be admiration on Fraser’s face as I walked forward. I snapped out jabs and waited till Micky threw a straight punch at me. He was more wary of me and what he was doing now because of the warning from his own trainer and he wasn’t as clinical as he should have been. As his arm retreated I punched the back of it near the elbow and it locked causing him some pain. I pushed him back towards the ropes with a punch and leaned back as he threw a return jab. Stepping to the side I landed a straight right with the full force of my strength and I saw the fight go out in his eyes and his legs wobble.

  I was tempted to finish him off but instead I turned my back and walked away to boos from the audience. Tony was indicating to me to turn around and I offered a glance as Micky tried to steady himself on the ropes. Fraser was standing there counting which I thought was maybe a little slow but before he got close to finishing the fight the final bell sounded. If I’d had the strength I would’ve raised my arms but I just stood there in the middle of the ring with my hands on my hips slowly filling my lungs up with air.

  The cornermen for Micky quickly entered and looked after their man, Tony joining them as Fraser took a moment away and walked towards me. I dug out the gumshield from my mouth and managed to say, “You owe me a conversation.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sat down in the small room that Max Fraser called an office I nursed the back of my neck with an icepack. I had showered and was back in my clothes but very much feeling my age and the agony of nine minutes of physical contact. There was very little natural light in the room and the walls were lined with filing cabinets which were labelled for accounts and fighter details. Separating the filing system was a well used and stained couch with a pillow and blanket on the arm. An old personal computer was on the desk behind which Fraser sat, papers strewn across the wooden top.

  I was leaning back on a very battered chair which somehow retained some of its cushioning, much more so than the one next to me which was sprouting stuffing from a number of holes in the green faux leather. Sat on the couch Tony was peeling an orange, which made it a rather surreal environment. He was the first to talk which gave me more time to heal.

  “So boss what do you think, we gonna sign him up?”

  Laughing hurt so I quickly stopped. Fraser didn’t so much as chuckle but he did nod once, “You’ve got some experience in a ring. Did you fight anyone I’d know?”

  “Doubt it, my career was very limited. Your boy’s good.”

  “He’s too rash,” Tony said before Fraser could answer, “that little incident with the elbows proves that. If he was to try and get in the ring with some of the better fighters around his weight he’ll get caught.”

  Fraser shot a glance at the other trainer before returning his gaze to me, “What do you think?”

  “He’s quick but he stuck rigidly to his combo attacks at the start.”

  “Ha!” Tony exclaimed, “I knew you had noticed that.”

  “What I’d tell him is to move his head more against taller fighters; I suppose though that it would be a rarity that he would fight someone of my height at his weight.”

  Fraser nodded twice this time, “You’re right. I’m still getting used to this kickboxing stuff. I’ve got a couple of trainers who come in and help out on it but me and Toe here are old school boxers. But you have change with the times; everyone wants to be a Mixed Martial Arts fighter these days.”

  “My training was more in that mould,” I offered.

  “Well it’s more than your usual copper gets. I don’t like police in my gym, Harper, so as much as I respect you for getting in the ring and lasting the distance I’d like you to leave when you’ve got what you want.”

  “If it means anything to you sir; I aint in the police anymore. I work as a private detective and it has come to my attention from a client that Tom Morrison wasn’t the shooter of Joey Boulton. I have no intention of letting that boy go to prison for a crime he didn’t commit and over the course of my investigation I have found out that you too don’t believe he did it,” I’d given him as much as I could and I felt it may have been too much information.

  “‘Over the course of your investigation?’ Hell man, it’s only been a couple of days,” Fraser said, “I know who hired you and I’m pretty sure I know who told you what I suspected. Morrison used to come down here when he was younger, his mum’s house ain’t two streets over. He’s fallen in with the gang but he isn’t a killer.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I’ve trained enough men to know who have that look. You have it for example. You’ve seen death and you didn’t blink. It wouldn’t surprise me if you’d even been on the delivery end,” Fraser said in a calm delivery.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed the ice on the top of my head and then stared back at him, “I worked murders; I’ve seen the worst man has to offer. However if this is all you have to go on then it has been a waste of my time coming here.”

  “It’s not all. Morrison was here when someone shot up my place. He was passing when he saw one of my fighters, Chris Tyler, who is a friend of his and he came in. We were closing up and as we went to leave someone opened up on the gym. No one was hurt but it came as a bit of fright to a lot of the lads, one of them being Tommy.”

  “After something like that some people become aggressive or need the comfort that owning a weapon provides,” I replied.

  Fraser shook his head once, as if head movements cost money and he was saving for a rainy day, “That’s not
what I saw. Morrison isn’t a shooter.”

  “Then who is?”

  The two of them looked at each other and Tony shrugged ever so slightly before Fraser spoke, “You’re looking for one of the gang members who is connected to Big Saul.”

  “I thought Big Saul has connections to all the gangs if he even exists.”

  “Saul exists alright. He is from around here but made enough money to move out of the country. One of the ways he stays out of the public eye and the attention of the police. He’s connected to this somehow, either as a rival looking to disrupt his trade or maybe he’s just pruning the weeds of his organisation but I assure you he is involved,” Fraser said in a manner that suggested I not question his words.

  I rubbed my jaw thankful that Micky had not been tall enough to land heavy blows on my face, “I am I to understand you know this Saul character?”

  “You don’t get a name like his without a reason,” Tony said, “Saul used to fight here before he took to the business. He learnt what pain was like and he learnt what was needed to win. The police never stood a chance against him.”

  Whilst he said that I kept an eye on Fraser who seemed surprised his cut man would say so much to a stranger, and an ex-cop at that. He didn’t stop him though which meant that he respected Tony’s words enough to let him speak. I needed more information though if I was going to find the real shooter and help the Harrison boy, “So I take it that Saul isn’t his real name?”

  They exchanged glances then Fraser answered, “I ain’t telling you anymore about him. We might not like the man but we respect him and he doesn’t mess with us.”

  “You say he doesn’t mess with you but by your gym got shot up by someone linked with your old boxer.”

  “I doubt he would have let anyone shoot at us. If I had to guess, I’d say the person who shot here was after one of the fighters. People fall out with each other all the time, that’s the way of life on the street,” Tony said.