The bigger question was the identity of the jokers who’d jumped me at Clegg’s flat. The first guy seemed remarkably similar to the pond-life who’d stalked me from the police station. The other guy was clearly in cahoots with the first. I was sure they weren’t Jimmy’s men. I was less sure of their role in Clegg’s death. Were they still there when he arrived? Given the police timings, Clegg couldn’t have been far behind me, in which case they must have still been there. And it was better than evens that they’d provided the tip off. So who were they?
And what had Clegg come to tell me? What did he know about Helen Porson? It could have been a lead. And what about Tony Porson? The guy was holding out on me; I could sense it.
I was all out of answers. And I didn’t know where to begin next. I didn’t even know if I wanted to.
The R63 cruised to a halt in Meanwood Avenue, thankfully a few doors down from my house. As I stepped from the car to the pavement, I looked down the street and saw light spilling out from our kitchen blinds. That was the start of the bad news.
More followed as I heard Tommy’s door open and close. I wasn’t much in the mood for a goodnight kiss. Certainly not tongues. He’d bite the friggin’ thing off.
I met him on the pavement. ‘Thanks for the lift, Tommy.’
‘I’m to see yer safely to yer door.’ He couldn’t resist a sneer.
‘I think I can manage from here.’ I aimed a haphazard thumb towards my house. ‘I’d invite you in, but it’s late and, well, Mum’s funny about strangers. And stranglers, as it goes.’
Tommy flexed his huge fist. ‘Boss said I wasn’t to touch yer.’
‘That’s all right. I don’t kiss on a first date either.’
There was a small guttural sound from him that approximated to a laugh. I had just turned to go when he stepped forward.
‘No hard feelings, eh?’ He extended his right hand.
‘None at all. One day we’ll laugh about it.’
‘Sure.’ He kept his hand outstretched, raising it higher.
I hesitated, wondering how to avoid the ol’ bone crusher routine. I moved forward slightly, intending to pat his arm and keep a respectable distance, but Tommy lunged forward and I felt his left fist come thundering into my midriff. His favourite party trick. I groaned in desperate pain, almost blacking out.
He laughed, louder this time. ‘Don’t tell Jimmy.’
I staggered back, winded, gripping a fence to steady myself. A succession of deep-chested coughs followed. ‘Secret’s safe with me,’ I wheezed.
‘Good.’ Tommy edged backwards. After a long smile he turned and strode off with a strut in his step.
I watched and waited as he got back in his car. My pain transmuted to fury as the Merc started up and accelerated away. I dragged myself into the middle of the road, waved my fist and bellowed after him. ‘You shit-for-brains, freak-faced fuck-wit.’
The car went into a full emergency stop routine and came to a halt halfway down Meanwood Avenue. Squeezing my sides I stood up straight and stared at the stilled, brooding Mercedes. I might have been battered and bruised but I stood my ground. The car waited for twenty long seconds and then slithered off.
No one fucks with Eddie G.
The reception committee was waiting when I got inside the house: Mum, Debbie and Bob Jones. I limped into the kitchen and held up apologetic hands. The reaction on their faces mixed rage and relief in roughly equal proportions. Their eyes flicked in sequence between the two.
‘I’ve been so worried,’ said Mum, holding out her hands. ‘What have they done to you? I’ve been going frantic and then Bob told me you were on your way home, and then you didn’t turn up, and then ... Thank God you’re safe now.’
Debbie shook her head. ‘You look terrible. Really dreadful.’
‘Easy with the compliments. My knees might give way.’
‘I just meant–’ She tried to explain, but couldn’t.
‘It’s okay. I’m fine.’
Mum started with the tears. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if ...’
I tried to smile. ‘Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I’m like Captain Scarlett: indestructible. That’s me, right, Bob?’
Bob nodded his head once. ‘That’s right, lad.’
Mum finally came over and put her arms around me. I could feel her wet cheek on mine. Despite the tiredness, I summoned up enough strength to hug her back. Truth to tell, I felt a bit of a heel. It was bad enough putting myself through it.
Mum tightened her grip around my chest, nearly crushing out of me what life I still had. She sobbed. ‘Let this go, Edward, for my sake.’
Debbie joined in. ‘You have to drop it.’
Lifting my head, I looked over at Bob. A similar appeal rested on his face.
I kissed Mum’s head and spoke quietly. ‘You win. I quit.’
A huge weight seemed to lift from my shoulders as the words came out, and all my aches subsided. I couldn’t figure out where the words had come from and right then I didn’t really care. Which was a shame, you know, because I could have been a contender.
‘I’m desperate for a shower.’
‘I’ll get you a cup of tea,’ said Mum. ‘And a sandwich. I’ll bring it up when you’re ready.’
‘Thanks.’ I smiled at her and trudged through to the hall.
As I climbed the stairs, thinking only of hot water and cotton sheets, I felt a friendly vibration in my jacket pocket. I stopped and took out my phone. My eyes didn’t want to adjust to the screen at first. But there it was: a text from Kate.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sunday – 07:10
A smooth bunny-hop took my Santa Cruz Superlight over the defender spikes and into Northside Comp’s upper car park. Having chained my hot wheels to the railings, I jogged over to the main entrance.
Parked outside, and on time, were my hotter wheels. I got in and clunked the door.
‘Where to, handsome?’ said Kate.
I looked down at the GPS on my phone. ‘We have latitude fifty-three point three degrees north and longitude two point six four degrees west. I suggest a bearing–’
‘Where to, dickhead?’ She pulled a face. ‘In road speak?’
‘M60.’
‘M60?’
‘Yep. Manc bound.’ I pointed ahead, in no particular direction.
‘Because?’
‘I’ll tell you on the way.’
She nodded. ‘In that case, good choice.’
‘I thought so.’ I tapped her far knee through her jeans. ‘It’s not just for dancing, gorgeous. It works the accelerator pedal, too.’
Kate feigned a swipe at my chest, and just the flinch hurt. My ribs took a second hit as the lurch from the wheelspin sped us away from Northside Comp – and all those bad memories.
As the song goes, I can smile at the old days. But soon, we’d be over those and far away.
~
Tony Porson’s detached Victorian house was on Broadway, just off Hale Road. The address had been on an invitation I’d found during my clandestine shakedown at Helen Porson’s house.
Kate bagged a parking space a few doors down, and we pulled over. With my jacket collar up, Aviators on and baseball cap down, I slid lower in the car seat. The wait had begun. My body ached, and I felt drained. A snooze seemed an even bet, but Kate was around to upset the odds.
‘So,’ she said, after settling herself for the wait, ‘you really think he’s involved?’
I noticed how Kate’s knitwear top shape-shifted around her curves as she spoke. I didn’t adjust my set. ‘You mean, do I think he topped his mum?’
‘No, I mean … well, why are we outside his house?’
‘Well, it’s in sight of the famous Hale Bar & Grill for a kick-off.’
Kate lifted her head, as if scanning the horizon for sizzling rib-eye, and then she looked at me. ‘And?’
‘Truth to tell, I don’t know. He’s hiding something, though.’
Her eyebrows arched. ‘In his house?
’
‘Could be.’
‘So we wait for him to leave and then what? Break in?’
‘No, we’ll follow him.’
‘On foot?’
‘Yeah. Unless there’s a pogo stick in your boot?’
‘And if he gets in a car?’
I yawned. ‘That’s where your fast-pursuit skills come in.’
‘So you know about those?’ She gave me that look again.
‘It’s all in the file.’
One hundred and seven minutes later, Tony Porson left his house and got into an Audi A3. He was on the move. Kate eased the Mini onto Broadway, and the chase was on.
‘Don’t get too close,’ I said, tapping the dashboard. ‘But lose him, cupcake, and you and me is through.’ The brake and throttle interlude gave me another chance to touch her leg.
She changed gear to dislodge the laying-on. ‘Ed, tell me you got to the end of that motivational training video?’
I nodded. ‘Far enough.’
We were two cars behind the A3 and holding station. I pulled the peak on my baseball cap lower, hoping it might morph into a thinking cap. Where was Porson Junior going? He wasn’t dressed for golf, and it was too early for a parade.
Forty minutes later we were in Urmston, and Porson’s car turned right into Flixton Grange Nursing Home. We drove past the entrance and parked in the next street. Kate turned off the engine and rested her hands on the steering wheel, her thumbs bracing against the column. While she tested the trigger point of her air bag, I took in the view from the front window, trying to get my bearings; or at least trying to spot a café.
‘Well, Mr Greene,’ said Kate. ‘What now?’
‘Glad you asked.’ I did a face-squiggle. ‘Coming up now we have a new series: “Kate Connolly Investigates”.’
She frowned. ‘I don’t recall signing up for that?’
‘It’s our only option. He’s not going to recognise you. I’m not asking you to decapitate anyone. Just find out who he’s seeing.’
She shifted in her seat. ‘What? I just ask nicely at reception?’
‘You’re a kick-ass lawyer. Assert yourself.’
Kate sat there quietly. I could tell she was thinking, but it wasn’t like you could hear the sprockets or anything. After a few seconds she pulled the vanity mirror down, re-applied her lipstick, flicked her hair a few times and then pushed the mirror back into place.
‘Will I do?’
‘Who loves ya, Baby?’
She frowned again. ‘What if I get challenged?’
‘Just ad-lib. Never fails.’
‘For an imbecile, maybe.’
I leaned over and opened her door. ‘Curtain call for Miss Connolly.’
Kate pressed herself back into the seat. ‘Ed, I need a cover story.’
‘Alright … I’m thinking here, I’m thinking ...’ I paused to round up the grey cells. ‘Wave your business card at them. Tell ‘em you’re on a probate search.’ I adopted my Robert de Niro look. ‘It’s a midnight run for crying out loud.’
She nodded and tried not to look impressed.
I grabbed her hand and held it until she looked at me. ‘This could be the mother of all break-throughs, Kate. I need you to make it rain.’
She smiled and pushed an upturned palm outside. ‘That fine rain do?’
I squinted through the sun-roof. ‘We’re in Manchester. It should be pissing down.’
She swung her legs out of the car and set-off without looking back. I watched her all the way, just in case. Eventually she glided around the corner, her be-jeaned legs moving with amazing grace. I preferred her in a skirt all the same.
Less than fifteen minutes later she was back, looking pleased with herself as she got in the car.
I held out my hands. ‘Hello, London. Can we please have your scores?’
A pause out-stayed its welcome before she finally spoke. ‘He’s visiting one “Elaine Taylor”.’
That wasn’t what I was expecting, but I nodded all the same. ‘Surprise, Surprise.’
‘It’s Helen’s sister, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Taylor is the family name.’
‘I thought the sister was killed in Africa?’
I clicked my neck. ‘Rejoice. She lives.’
‘Unless ...’
‘Unless what?’
‘You know.’
I inhaled a big breath. ‘All in good time.’ Turning in my seat, I tapped her shoulder. ‘Fine work, Miss Connolly, you’re hired.’
‘I get the raincoat now?’
I smiled and nodded. ‘And the hat.’
‘Good. As long as they match.’ Kate nudged my arm to keep my attention. ‘There’s something else.’ A “something else” smile lighted her face. ‘I also know which room she’s in.’
I leaned over and kissed her head. ‘Now it’s raining.’ I could smell her shampoo. What can I tell you? Coconuts and lilies powered the scent. Tesco’s finest it wasn’t.
Kate didn’t lean in, and she didn’t lean away. She simply smiled and looked ahead. ‘The hat and raincoat would have been fine.’
‘Nonsense. Plenty more where that came from, my sleuthful friend.’
She sneaked a peek at her watch. ‘What next? More waiting?’
‘Yep. Until TP leaves, anyway. Then we’ll find out what Elaine has to say for herself.’
~
Tony Porson was either a dedicated nephew or meticulous with his anecdotes. It was more than two hours before he left. After a decent interval we headed down the gravel drive to Flixton Grange. Answers lay dead ahead.
With Kate renewing her probate scam at the front desk, I slipped by and shimmied into the main hallway, keeping my progress to a nonchalant pace. I took the second corridor, stopped at room seventeen, looked both ways and then knocked. No answer. I knocked again and waited. Still no answer. After a five second count I knocked for a final time then went in.
As if hiding in plain sight, I sensed a presence in the room that I couldn’t see. After moving a few paces forward and taking a second looky-looky, I noticed a lady sitting in a large, wingback armchair on the far side of the room. She was partly obscured by cushions, and she held herself completely still. The woman’s head was turned away from me, but the chair was angled so I could see her side profile. She was staring out of a large bay window, a silk shawl draped around her neck and shoulders. Yellow walls reflected light all around the room.
I could tell by her stiff posture and the slight head movement that she knew someone had come into the room, but she didn’t turn, and she didn’t speak. Her fingers twitched between the worn arm on her chair and a side table. I stood there a short while, just watching. But if she was looking to keep up her hear no evil, see no evil routine, I didn’t intend to play along. The room made me uneasy; it was too warm and smelled like a mix of boiled eggs and antiseptic. Hospital “lite”.
I moved to her side and touched her shoulder, providing the cue for her to finally turn towards me. I gave her a hesitant smile. ‘Hello, Elai–’
Before I could finish, she gasped and recoiled. ‘You! It can’t be.’ Her hands came to her mouth and she sunk lower among the mismatched cushions.
I was thinking the same thing about her, but I didn’t say it. As for the “–aine”, it never came, and it never would. Elaine Taylor was dead. Okay, she’d always been dead as far as Clegg’s little pot boiler went, but at least she’d been alive a few days ago. I knew it for sure now. I also knew I had a zombie for a client.
‘Mrs Porson, I presume?’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sunday – 12:30
Whatever reply she’d intended got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t speak – for real, this time. She looked petrified.
Without taking my eyes away from hers, I dragged a visitor’s seat from beside the bed and placed it in front of her armchair. I sat down on the moulded plastic and held her hand.
‘It’s okay, really.’ My head tilted as I smiled. ‘But you know
you have to tell me what’s going on?’
She kept looking at me, then looking away, wiping tears as she went, as if finding words to say then losing them. Eventually she gathered her composure. ‘He sent you, didn’t he?’ She looked down at her hands after speaking.
‘Who he?’
‘He killed her, you do know that?’
I squeezed her hand, trying to get her to look at me. ‘Helen, I do my own bidding. No one sent me. The police think I killed you or whoever–’
‘Yes,’ she broke in. ‘Tony told me. I gather you went to see him.’
‘Yeah, and now I know why he was so unhelpful.’
She flashed me a look and started to say something but thought better of it.
I let the moment pass and went on. ‘That’s why I followed him today. That’s why I’m here.’ With a light touch I put both my hands on hers. ‘Helen, you’re still my client. I can help, but I need to know everything.’
‘You’re just a kid. Why should I trust you?’
I gave a little snort. ‘Maybe, but this kid has done a lot of growing old in the last few days. Dead bodies, interrogations and Russian roulette seem to have that effect on me.’ I tapped my face. ‘You see these stitches? That’s for getting involved in this thing. My badge of honour.’ I lowered my voice. ‘You can’t go to the police, and Tony can’t help. I’m here, I’m not leaving. Your choice.’
Helen Porson rocked back and forth against her cushions. It went on for half a minute or so. Then she stopped.
‘Jimmy,’ she said under her breath.
‘Jimmy Cartwright?’
She nodded.
‘He killed Elaine?’
Helen gave me a sharp look. ‘How do you know …?’
‘Her name?’
Another nod. Her eyes avoided mine, flicking over to the window instead.
‘I found an old picture of you and Elaine at the seaside. I showed it to Clegg, and he told me.’
‘I see.’ She took a tissue from the box on her side table and held it to her nose. ‘How is Michael?’
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