‘Yes, well, she’s an exception.’
‘Because of who she is? Her husband?’
‘She owes and she’s trying to pay it off without her man finding out. Do you mind if I smoke?’
‘I’d rather you didn’t. How much are we talking about?’
‘Abagail? Twenty grand. Plus interest.’
‘And the interest probably isn’t what the Nationwide is currently offering.’
‘You know how these things work, you build up the addiction, give lots of credit, then you call it in, except the interest is such that she will never be able to pay it off piecemeal. She makes token payments, but she knows what the real deal is.’
And so did I, suddenly.
‘Political influence,’ I said.
‘She has a certain amount of her own clout,’ said Derek, ‘but mostly I think it’s the husband. Everyone knows that for all his big talk, he’s putty in her hands.’
‘That’s why the Millers waltz around free and you can go on collecting your direct debits.’
He said, ‘I really need that cigarette.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Have a HobNob.’
I showed him. He demurred.
‘As a last request,’ he said, ‘it doesn’t quite have the same effect.’
‘Well that’s a matter of opinion. If I let you live, will you . . .’
‘Yes.’
‘. . . give up smoking?’
‘Yes.’
‘Go from coke to Diet Coke.’
‘Yes. One million per cent.’
I nodded, and tried to look thoughtful.
He reached into his jacket.
‘Easy,’ I said.
He stopped. ‘It’s just my phone.’
I kept the gun on him and gave a short nod. He produced his iPhone.
‘I have that model,’ I said.
‘If you let me live, you can have it. Everyone we deal with is on here, contacts, amounts, dates, times, even the direct debit details.’
‘I could just shoot you dead and take it.’
‘You don’t know the password.’
‘Tell me the password or I’ll shoot you.’
He sighed. ‘I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t.’
‘That you are.’
He handed me the phone. ‘There you go,’ he said. ‘Please let me live.’
‘Why don’t you just send the info to my phone, then you can hold on to it?’
‘No. It’s my work phone. Their phone. If you don’t kill me, they certainly will. No point in hanging on to it.’
‘Password?’
‘I don’t have one.’
‘You were bluffing me.’
‘Yes, sorry.’
I said, ‘You have no password for your phone? You’ve no security on your car park, and you don’t use half the functions on the safe in your office. If you don’t mind me saying, you’re fucking useless at security.’
‘I know,’ he said, nodding mournfully, ‘but as it turns out, I’m a fantastic drug dealer. Go figure.’
I felt sorry for him, just a little tiny bit. We both knew that if I didn’t kill him then the Millers would, although not before they’d wrung every last tiny bit of information out of him. You don’t lose your employers the best part of two million pounds and get a written warning.
I told him to wait for a moment, then got out and opened the boot. I took three thousand in twenties out of the stash. When I dropped it into his lap, he looked surprised.
‘Take it,’ I said. ‘Go and get your wife and kids and disappear. Different country. Start over. Put your house up, but don’t come back to show people round.’
He looked at the money. He shook his head. ‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘If I run, they’ll think I’m in on it.’
‘And if you stay?’
‘They’ll think I’m in on it.’
‘So run and stand a chance, or stay and get shot.’
‘You’re not shooting me?’
‘Nope.’
‘Not even a flesh wound.’
‘Nope.’
‘Could you just hit me with your gun then, make it look like I didn’t give it up without a fight?’
‘No can do,’ I said.
He looked down at the money in his lap. ‘I’ve no choice, then. The wife’s going to be furious. We’ve just paid for Sky HD. It’s a one-year contract. We’ll never get out of it.’
I had sympathy in that direction.
‘The fuckers will get you every which way,’ I said.
41
There were lights on in Jack’s house, and four cars in the drive. So they were home alone. It was a little after ten p.m. and I was aching from my various beatings, but rich beyond my wildest dreams. I had driven with meticulous care the mile across town to Malone, thinking the whole way that if I just withdrew from the case right now I could retire and paaaaaaarty for the rest of my life. It would be a short life, but glorious. But even while I was thinking it, I kept driving, safe in the knowledge that I had enough problems mainlining Harp.
I pulled into their drive, with my lights already off, and sat there in the dark. I tapped Derek Beattie’s screen, and studied the names and addresses again, just to be absolutely sure – there were one hundred and sixty properties in the greater Malone area that were served by his company; those with an asterisk were those that received a little extra sense of security for their monthly payment.
There was no asterisk beside Jack Caramac’s name.
I checked my watch, and then ducked down lower in my seat. Forty-five seconds later, only a little bit late, a Malone Security car cruised slowly past. When I was sure they were gone, I got out of the car and walked up to the front door. When I rang the bell, Tracey answered. She had a silk dressing gown on and a glass of wine in her hand. She looked me up and down and said, ‘Holy fuck.’
A moment later Jack was at her shoulder. He also had a glass of wine. He pointed it at me, but extended one finger.
‘You were fucking told, Dan! What the hell’s wrong with you?’
I said, ‘We need to talk.’
I took a step forward.
They formed a united front, blocking me.
‘You need to bugger off,’ said Tracey.
‘Ten minutes. You just need—’
‘We don’t need to do anything, Dan,’ said Jack.
‘Call them,’ Tracey hissed at her husband. ‘That’s what we bloody pay them for.’
‘Dan . . . please . . .’
‘Oh for Jesus . . .’ She started to turn.
‘No,’ I said.
She twirled back, exploding into: ‘Who the fuck do you think . . .?’ before she saw that I had removed the gun from my jacket and was pointing it at her. And then she laughed. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’
She turned again. Jack tried to haul her back, but she slapped his hand away and picked up the house phone. Jack gave me a helpless shrug.
I said, ‘If she’s calling Malone, that’s why I’m here.’
‘It’s ringing,’ said Tracey.
‘Malone is owned by the Miller brothers.’
‘Still ringing.’
‘They use it to distribute cocaine to your friends and neighbours.’
‘Being transferred to their out-of-hour service.’
‘And I have a list of them all here.’
I held up the iPhone. While Tracey called, Jack’s eyes had been widening further with each revelation.
He finally said, ‘You’re serious?’
I just kept holding it up. He turned and tried to pull the phone out of Tracey’s hand. She struggled. He let her go. She stumbled back and fell on to the stairs behind her, spilling her wine over herself in the process. I knew her of old. Tracey would not take falling down lying down. Her mouth twisted up into a hate-fuelled scowl, and she was preparing to hurl herself at her husband when she was stopped by three little words.
‘Mummy – what’s wrong?’
Tracey brushed down the front of her dressing gown and twisted from her position sitting on the third step. She beamed up at little Jimmy at the top of the stairs.
‘Nothing, darling,’ she purred. ‘Mummy and Daddy are just playing.’
‘Who dat?’
He was looking at me. He looked angelic in his Ben 10 pyjamas. The sort of kid you’d want to whack with a silver spoon.
‘I’m a friend of your mummy’s,’ I said, stepping into the hall, smiling at him too, ‘a really good friend.’
I gave Tracey a wink that said there were things I could tell Jack about our past she would not like me to tell Jack about our past. He couldn’t see the wink. Little Jimmy could. But he was too dumb to know what it meant.
‘Dan – we’re seriously concerned for your mental health,’ said Jack, pouring himself a Jack Daniel’s, and then one for me. He brought them across. Tracey was scowling at me one moment, grinning at Jimmy on her knee the next. ‘We’re used to obsessive fans, but for Christ’s sake, we’ve known you since your cider days. Let go of it, man.’
‘You bring a gun into our house.’ She covered her child’s ears. ‘Our fucking house.’
‘But I can’t say I’m not intrigued by the Millers.’ Jack settled in the chair opposite. ‘So I’ll listen to what you have to say.’
Tracey had removed her hands from Jimmy’s ears. Now she replaced them. ‘And then we’ll fuck you out.’
‘But first, just put it away, will you? I’ve never seen anyone look more ridiculous with a gun. The glass is altogether more your style.’
He was trying to be nice, I think, but it was cutting in several different ways at the same time.
I kept the revolver in my hand. It was heavier than in the movies, lighter than my conscience. I absolutely could shoot someone. It would just have to be the right person, someone who could change the fate of a nation, or who looked at Trish in the wrong way.
I said, ‘I need to know why you sacked me.’
‘Christ,’ said Tracey. ‘Change the record.’
‘It’s important,’ I said. ‘Jack?’
He blew air out of his cheeks. ‘Dan, I think you’ll find I’ve been pretty consistent here. I’m not shitting you. A good business deal went through. Bit of a killing.’
‘Did it have to do with Jimmy being snatched?’
‘No. We know what happened there.’
‘The nanny.’
‘So you know that much. Okay, fair enough. Well done. She made what you might call a tearful confession. Which I suppose is down to you. Maybe I owe you something a little extra.’
‘You’ve sacked her, then?’
‘No,’ said Tracey. ‘She’s good with Jimmy. He’d be distraught.’
‘She kidnapped him!’
‘No. Her partner did. She’s a bad egg. They’ve split up.’
‘When did this all happen?’
‘Last night,’ said Jack. ‘She’s genuinely sorry. We’ve forgiven her. She won’t do it again.’
I looked at Tracey and shook my head. ‘She kidnapped your son.’
‘She didn’t,’ said Tracey, ‘and good staff are hard to get.’
I laughed involuntarily. ‘Right, okay. Whatever you say, Tracey. Always a good judge of character.’ Before she could respond, I turned to Jack. ‘Did anyone from Malone ever offer you coke?’
‘Absolutely not. Even if it’s true, they would know better. I’m always ripping into dealers.’
‘He doth protest too much.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘And you’re a celeb in the media; it’s rife with drugs.’
‘Aye, Dan, that’s right, Calpol and Imodium. This is Ulster, not the fucking West End.’
‘Jack, give me some credit.’
He gave a little shrug. ‘Okay. So there’s some around. It’s not that bad. But if the public even got a sniff of me being involved, that would be me finished. I mean, the hypocrisy of it.’
‘Nobody’s tried to tempt you in . . .?’
‘We made it clear,’ said Tracey, ‘we won’t have it in the house.’
‘So they did try?’
‘We have parties all the time,’ said Jack. ‘And back in the day, maybe we dabbled a bit, but not since Jimmy. And nothing to do with Malone.’
‘What about your neighbours behind, the Pikes; you have much to do with them?’
‘Jesus, no,’ said Jack. ‘We used to get on okay, maybe a year ago, but then we had a . . . you know, falling-out.’
‘Over . . .?’
‘That monstrosity next door,’ Tracey spat.
‘It’s not that bad,’ said Jack.
‘It’s a disaster,’ said Tracey, ‘and as soon as the market picks up a bit, we’re out of here.’
‘We’ll see.’
They glared at each other. I liked it. Friction makes for revelation.
‘Tell me more about the falling-out,’ I said.
‘Talking about hypocrites,’ said Tracey, shaking her head.
‘Dan, if they’d just been straightforward with us, I’m sure we could have worked something out,’ said Jack. ‘What pissed us off was that the builders just turned up one day and started tearing their back garden up. At first we dismissed it, just some gardening work or they’re putting up a garage or something, but once we saw the foundations going in we pulled them on it and they said they already had planning permission, and if we had a problem with it we should have complained at the time they applied for it.’
‘And why didn’t you?’
‘What do you think?’ snapped Tracey. ‘They’re supposed to inform the neighbours . . .’
‘It’s the law . . .’ said Jack.
‘And they’re supposed to advertise it where we’ve a reasonable chance of seeing it . . .’
‘But somehow our notification didn’t arrive, and sure they advertised it, but in some community newspaper goes straight in the bin as soon as it arrives.’
‘They covered themselves, though,’ I ventured.
‘They thought they had,’ said Jack. ‘I have to admit, for a while we ignored it, kind of gave up. They’re in the government, who’s going to turn them down? And we thought, it’s a big garden, how bad can it be? But it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and taller and . . .’
‘Squeezed in like a fucking cork in a wine barrel,’ said Tracey.
‘It just really pissed us off,’ said Jack, ‘not to mention that it devalued this place. So that’s when we really started looking into it. I got into the Land Registry website and there was something there that started me thinking. I went downtown and had a look at the plans and took one of my mates along who’s an architect, and lo and behold, the cheeky fuckers were building on a tiny part of our land.’
‘Our land,’ Tracey repeated.
‘Seems whoever planted the hedge between our properties did it without consulting the plans properly, so all these years a corner of our land has been on their side of it. And the great thing is, the corner they’d nicked was absolutely vital to their drainage system, and without the rights to it they’d have to knock down what they’d already built, redesign and reapply for planning. So we had them.’
‘Couldn’t they just use their power and influence . . .?’
‘Absolutely, and would have, but in between times there was a reshuffle up on the hill, and whereas they’d a friend running the planning office when they started, by the time I started kicking up a storm he’d been moved on and a not-so-friendly face had his feet under the table. They tried of course, and we ended up going to court.’
‘We won,’ said Tracey. ‘They were forced to stop building.’
‘Which they didn’t like,’ I said.
‘Of course not,’ said Tracey. ‘But they’d one last trick up their sleeve. One day yer woman comes knocking, all sweetness and light.’
‘Abagail?’
‘Exactly, and I didn’t like that one bit, because she waited until I was out, and Jack was in by himself, and
she comes to the door with those tits of hers hanging out.’
‘Didn’t know where to look,’ said Jack, ‘or I knew exactly where to look. Either way, it was embarrassing.’
‘What did she . . .?’
‘She wanted to buy the corner. Actually, not the corner, just a tiny piece of it, that was all they needed. She made an offer, and I said sorry, no. It’s not the size of the land, I said, it’s the principle. And she was all apologetic, she said she didn’t mean to try and railroad it through, it wasn’t her, it was her people, she’s so busy working to get the country back on its feet, she wasn’t aware of what they were doing, it’s all just a ghastly misunderstanding, didn’t mean for us all to fall out with each other, how much she loves the show, asked me all about it and we talked about my guests, and she was suggesting things she could do to help the show, access to ministers . . .’
‘Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit,’ said Tracey.
‘And I nodded and smiled, and she got closer and closer and her . . .’ He raised an eyebrow.
Tracey laughed. ‘Jack’s a boob man, always has been, and they are impressive. I’d say they’re the best money can buy.’
‘And I was in absolutely no doubt that they were on the table,’ said Jack.
‘Size of them, I bet they nearly fucking were too,’ Tracey cackled.
‘But I’ve been down that road and I’m not going back.’ He smiled benevolently at Tracey. ‘She took me back, and she’s my girl, and now she knows it.’
‘Now I know it,’ said Tracey, with a smile back for him, and one for me.
Sweet.
‘So?’
‘So I stepped away, and said the land wasn’t for sale, not at any price, and maybe she’s not used to someone saying no to her, but she flew off the handle, called me all the names of the day and stormed out cursing and blinding. And from that day till this it’s all been through her solicitors.’
‘All what’s been through her solicitors?’
‘Selling the land, Dan.’
‘I thought . . .’
‘Yeah, bollocks,’ laughed Jack. ‘Of course I was going to sell; I knew it and she knew it. It was just a question of agreeing the price. Ask anyone at the station, Dan, I drive a hard bargain. I was always a crap reporter, you know that. When I joined the station I was freelance, I’d no benefits, no expenses, but I found something there that I could really do well, and they knew it soon enough too, so when it came to getting money out of them, I held out, and I held out, and now I own half the fucking place. Well, the same principle applies here. I held out until I thought I’d pretty much gotten it as high as I could. So we settled. That’s what I was so happy about the other night: the money had just hit the bank, and the builders were back the next morning. Best bit of business I ever did. One hundred and twenty thousand quid.’
Nine Inches Page 22