by Phil Redmond
There was no such embarrassment from Bobby as he came back with napkins and cutlery. Still in full flow about the Council.
‘They’re supposed to be there for us, aren’t they. Not themselves.’ The pebble-dash cracked again. ‘That’s our job, isn’t it. Looking out for us and ours.’
Joey gave a nod of agreement. He couldn’t fault Bobby’s logic.
‘Anyway,’ Bobby continued. ‘They knocked down the junior school, right? Guffing out some tosh about falling school rolls while the population’s actually increasing. How’d they get away with it, eh? But they did, and created that big open site. So, I moved a few lads in there and we charge a quid an hour or a fiver for all-day parking. And on market day. Coining it, mate. Coining it.’
‘Haven’t they tried to move you off?’
‘Oh yeah.’ The gravel laugh again. ‘They hate me. Hate me. I’m even worse than the travellers, aren’t I? I’m never going to move on, am I? But in terms of investing in the community I may be trespassing, but I’m not asking for water and ’lecky, and I’m providing a much needed service: cheap parking and a little haven from the traffic wardens. Everyone wins.’
‘Except the Council.’
Bobby just gave a dismissive shrug. And then surprised Joey by adding, ‘Doing it for my own lad, actually.’
Bobby saw Joey’s curious look. ‘Got a few legit things building up to pass on to him. That’s why I sent him to Hazelhurst like your Sean’s kids. Give him a better education than the one we didn’t get.’
‘We learned a lot more on the streets,’ Joey agreed. ‘And at night school.’
The gravelly laugh. ‘Didn’t we just. But it wouldn’t be so romantic in that park these days, having to step over dead smackheads.’
‘How’d it get to that stage, Bob?’
‘Life doesn’t change, Joe. Just the illegal highs. In our day it was send someone into the offie to get the booze, and then back to the swings to split it up before coming down the cut and through the fence at the back. We learned a few things in those goalmouths, didn’t we?’
We did indeed, Joey thought back, as the lad from the till brought the coffees over. Bobby gave him two £20 notes.
‘Keep a fiver and put the rest towards what they had,’ he said as he nodded over to the previous window group now standing near the toilets finishing their drinks.
‘So now it’s drugs instead of drink?’ Joey asked as the lad left.
‘Both. It’s never either–or, Joe. People want it all.’ Abruptly Bobby switched tack. ‘They’ll have to find a new playground, though. When they turn that old one into houses.’
‘Er, how’s that go?’
‘Everyone knows what’s going on. Council. Cops. They can’t stop it. So they reckon that if they get rid of the playground there’d be one less place to hide.’
‘Just move the problem somewhere else?’
‘But it might stop my Max and your Alex discovering they’ve got a dead druggie in goal.’
‘When do you reckon that’ll all happen?’ Joey asked, completely surprised by the news.
‘Soon as the Council can fiddle the planning. The real reason they demolished the old junior school, and the reason they really hate me, is that it’s right behind the playground. One big plot to sell off. And I’m the poison pill in the middle.’
‘How do you know all this stuff?’ Joey asked. But didn’t get an immediate response as one of the previous window group came over and thanked Bobby for covering their drinks. Joey smiled. Amazing. He walks in, throws them out of their seats and they end up thanking him. Did people respect or fear him? He remembered him always being in trouble. And saying that if they treated him like a gangster, then he was going to be the best Highbridge had ever seen. No doubts on that score.
‘Go on,’ Joey continued. ‘I keep up with the local paper while I’m away. So how’d you know more?’
‘This stuff’s never in the papers, Joe. Cops are a good source of stories and the Council’s a big spender on ads. Why would the paper really want to upset them by asking awkward questions? Like why the Council is demolishing stuff so they can sell off the playground for houses? You should check it out. Someone will want a sparky if the house deal goes through.’
‘And will it? As you seem to know everything.’
Bobby just cracked the pebble-dash. ‘My business to know, Joseph. Talking of which. How’s your girl’s mate today? Sounded like a right slimeball trying to get in her drawers last night. Want us to give him a seeing to?’
Joey felt his back stiffen. A reminder. He was, after all, supping with the devil. And his daughter was going out with the devil’s son. No matter what Joey wanted, the devil would protect what he thought was his own.
Joey just grinned and shook his head, no need. He also wanted to steer the conversation back to Bobby.
‘Anyway, did you talk to them beforehand?’ Joey asked what he thought was a perfectly obvious question. ‘They might have let you do it?’
Bobby shook his head. ‘Trouble is, Joe, it’s like being back in school. They never let you stand up, do they? Never let you get back on your feet. Always waiting to knock you down because of what they think you are.’
‘I remember,’ Joey said, thinking back to the way he’d been treated differently to Sean. He was the swot. Joey was the scally.
‘I’m branded so can’t change, even if I wanted to. So they won’t even talk, never mind listen to me. Which is OK, because I can play them. Like the travellers. I’m forcing them to go through proper processes and all that bollocks. That’ll drag on so long and get so heavy-handed that local support’ll force them to let me keep the site. Or find me another one. That’ll make it legit. The lad’ll then have a car park business to keep going. Just have to keep one step ahead of the buggers. And, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.’
‘Because you’re leading up to the real point?’ Joey asked. ‘Rather than distracting me with some tosh about worrying about your kid’s inheritance.’
He knew Bobby too well.
Matt was nearly right. It had taken only two hours to recover the Transit, travel to Leather’s and set up three of the four cameras on the way back. At each location, Matt had jumped out the side door, rigged and positioned each camera, then set up a cheap but clean laptop on the way back with a 3G dongle. Like the cameras, it too was disposable. They had already placed the camera outside Leather’s gates and two on the speed limit signs without any trouble. Apparently two council workmen rigging monitoring equipment. Hiding in plain sight. Invisible.
Unfortunately, when they got to the preferred location of the fourth, the lamppost next to the Welcome to Highbridge sign, they discovered real Council workmen. Not hiding. Actually in plain sight. The lamppost was undergoing routine maintenance. That was ninety minutes ago and there were only so many times they could drive past to see how things were going. The cloak of invisibility would only last so long. Especially since Billy had told them that their new cloned registration plates only had a life of six hours as the donor was in having an MOT.
‘Let’s hide the van, then come back to this one,’ he suggested to Luke, who then pointed the Transit in the direction of the swing bridge.
*
‘Fantastic. No. Saturday’s great. Thank you. Please tell Craig how delighted we all are,’ Sean said as he ended the call and allowed himself a smile. A more demonstrative gesture would have been to punch the air, or go into a semi-crouched position while thrusting his clenched fist forward. However, with young Ben and Deborah on the tills he felt the need to maintain a certain managerial decorum. Nevertheless, he was pleased.
‘He’s still coming then,’ Glynnis asked. She had been hovering while he was on the phone.
‘Yes, Glynnis,’ Sean replied, his smile broadening. ‘Saturday morning to take a look round.’
‘Brilliant. I knew he would. Once his mum asked him,’ Glynnis responded, a smile also spreading across her face. ‘Oh, it’s exciti
ng, isn’t it?’ This was aimed more at Ben and Deborah.
‘My mum will be excited,’ was all Deborah said.
‘Can I tweet it yet, Mr Nolan?’ It was Ben, the resident social networking expert.
‘Er … No, not yet, Ben,’ Sean replied. ‘Let’s wait until he confirms the real thing on Saturday.’
‘But you’d better have your thumbs on standby then,’ cautioned Glyniss. Cos as soon as he walks in it’ll be all over town. I’m telling you.’
Sean shared a knowing smile with Ben. Typical Glynnis – until she turned her attention to him.
‘And here’s something that might wipe the smile off your face. Remember that 10 per cent discount you gave away to that druggie lot. Well, a couple of your councillor mates are coming in to use it later.’
Glynnis was right. The smile had disappeared, as she continued. ‘You know, the ones that are married and claiming two sets of expenses. They phoned up to ask if it applied to lunch as well.’ Glynnis’s distaste was obvious.
‘Oh, what did you tell them?’
‘I said, you’re a man of your word. And if you’re daft enough to offer it in the first place, then you’d be daft enough to give it on lunch as well.’
And with that she headed back to the café.
‘Can I tweet that, Mr Nolan?’ Ben asked. ‘About the councillors coming in?’
‘No. I’m giving them enough without the publicity.’ He tried to make it sound light. But he was already wondering how much it would cost him in the end.
‘Probably scare off people as well,’ Deborah suddenly chipped in, before turning to help a woman unload her trolley.
But if they do come in, Sean thought as he headed for his office, at least I can tell them about the business with Noah. And ask what they are doing about it all. That should be worth 10 per cent.
‘There, that’s it,’ Bobby said, sitting back in his chair. ‘It’s just a, what do they call it, a hypothetical.’
Joey knew it was more than that. If Bobby did, as he claimed, know everything that went on in town, then he was now fishing. The devil was after the detail. And the last thing Joey wanted to do was help him get it.
‘So, your plan—’
‘Hypothetical,’ Bobby corrected.
‘Your idea is to round up a few of us and sort out the fat get in the chippy?’
Bobby nodded. Casually. ‘Like we used to.’ But then it came. Casually again but as Joey knew, fishing. ‘Or would you use Carlton and his oppo for that?’
As he’d been expecting it, Joey was able to look surprised. ‘Go on, then. What’s that mean?’
Bobby leaned forward in his seat. This was not for everyone’s ears. ‘Just that they like a bit of aggro those boys, don’t they. Sign up for it. Get used to it. Must be hard holding back when they know they could sort out stuff like this with a well-timed knock on the door in the middle of the night. Bag over the head. Off the viaduct and into the river. Who’d know?’
‘You. As you apparently know everything,’ Joey replied and leaned in closer. ‘And the police, perhaps?’
The pebbles rattled in Bobby’s throat again. ‘Now you’re winding me up. Or getting confused about policing and justice, Joe. The cops know. Well, most things. Trouble for them is that that isn’t their job. Their job is to prove things. Knowing isn’t enough.’
‘But good enough for you?’
‘Natural justice. The only justice people like you and me believe in. The way they did things in the old days. With strangers’ fields.’
‘Which was?’ Joey asked, intrigued.
Bobby edged even further forward. ‘In the old days, villagers sorted things out themselves. Any stranger giving aggro would be taken down to a field. The strangers’ field. And sorted out. One by one, each villager would land a blow. Weapon or fist. Didn’t matter. Then everyone took a turn in digging the grave. Everyone had to take part. Everyone culpable. Everyone knew everything, so nobody spoke. Mutual responsibility. Mutual respect. That’s how we should handle things. People like me and you, Joe.’
Joey was about to protest, but Bobby came back with a quick jab. ‘And don’t try and give me some old bollocks. I know …’ he emphasised it. ‘I know. You’d soon give someone a good smack if they came near you and yours. Like you would have done last night at the club? Eh? Your trouble, Nolan, as it’s always been, is that you can’t just walk away. Damsel in distress. Someone getting a hard time. Get yourself involved in things when you don’t have to. Max tells me your Tanya’s the same.’
The comment stung. Unintentionally. And ironically. That was exactly the opposite to the way Joey was feeling at the moment. He shook his head. He was thinking that he hadn’t been doing much getting involved lately when they were interrupted by a voice from behind.
‘You two look like you’re up to no good.’
They both turned to find Luke standing behind them, a coffee to go in his hand.
‘That a bit of the old SAS training? Creeping up on people?’ Bobby asked.
Luke shook his head as he joined them. ‘Not necessary when people get locked in to their own little worlds.’ He indicated how close they were sitting, then pulled a chair round to join them.
Joey noticed he was now, like himself, in a more lightweight jacket and jeans, obviously not having come straight down from the hill.
‘So what you doing?’ Bobby asked, with a glance to Joey. ‘Still hanging round?’
‘Just needed a chat with Joe about some electrical work I want doing.’
‘Up at your ghost house?’
Luke just grinned. Refusing to be baited. ‘Where else?’
It was enough for Joey. There was something else. Otherwise he would have just agreed. The devil also picked up the detail. It was a probe. What did he know? So he fired one back himself.
‘Thought your services would be much in demand in this troubled world we live in?’ he asked.
Luke followed Bobby’s quick glance to Joey, as he also reached to pick up his phone. Luke’s arrival had served as a reminder to Bobby that he had been out of touch for too long.
‘You going to record this bit, Bob?’ Luke asked. It was a deflection, but a grin showed he was joking. Bobby’s counter-sneer showed he wasn’t impressed.
‘Bobby reckons you and Matt could solve the town’s drug problem by throwing people off the viaduct,’ Joey said, trying to sound casually incredulous.
It didn’t go unnoticed by the devil. It was a heads up on the conversation.
‘Ah. How much?’ Luke asked Bobby, believing the best form of defence is always attack.
‘Where’s your community spirit?’ Bobby asked with a throaty laugh.
‘Expended on some far-flung foreign battleground. Go on, how much?’
‘Bobby told me last week he could get it done for fifty quid,’ Joey said. ‘Or, five hundred for a proper job?’
Bobby took a quick look round in case the wrong sort of ears were within range. Too much detail even for the devil. It was Luke’s turn to laugh.
‘And how many of these proper jobs end up with the executioner in jail?’
Bobby just shrugged. Like Joey, no matter how tough he felt, there was something cold and measured about Luke that made him feel, if not inadequate, then slightly out of his depth.
‘Enough to make it not worthwhile. There’s three kinds of crime the cops take seriously. Multiple rape. Serious fraud. And murder. They’ll verbal a lot about everything else, as we all do, but when it comes down to it it’s those three that frighten the powers that be. Those three that get everyone agitated. Worrying that it could happen to them. Or get people asking questions about why they should keep paying taxes and keeping them in jobs. Why? Because people do a lot to protect their lifestyles.’
He focused on Joey. ‘How long you been going up and down the country for a decent job?’
Joey conceded the point, as Luke pressed on. ‘And Hilary and her gang aren’t really interested in your fake knock-offs, Bob.
Or clocking someone doing thirty-five in a thirty. They want to be doing the serious stuff. And so long as they do a good job we put up with all the pettiness that comes with it.’ He grinned at Bobby. ‘So, five hundred quid? For ten to fifteen years inside?’ Shook his head. ‘Need to multiply it by a thousand to make it worthwhile.’ He then grinned. ‘To do a really proper job.’
This time Bobby appeared to miss the look that went between Luke and Joey as he was now scrolling through his accumulated text messages. The look that reminded Joey what he was getting for his money. Something more than community spirit. Revenge for Janey.
‘Well, that takes me out of the frame,’ Bobby said with another throaty chuckle, as he stood up and waved the phone. He had to go. ‘But if you drop your rates, I might have a list you could work your way through.’
With that he headed for the door, then across the street to where his Range Rover was parked half on and half off the pavement.
‘Do you really have a job for me?’ Joey asked Luke.
‘I’m thinking of adding a steam generator to the shower. If anyone asks. But I’m also interested in learning more about the way electricity works. Like you told me how you can always get power from street lights.’
‘Go on.’
‘Just wondered how, for instance, someone could rig the swing bridge to open. For a prank, say?’
Joey shook his head. ‘That’d be a bit of work. You’d have to, I’m guessing, be working with any number of combinations from 11,000 Volt multi-poles, 415 Volt AC, 240-Volt three-phase down to 12-Volt DC control systems. That’s why I’ve got certificates.’
Luke looked deflated. Until Joey grinned. ‘But there’s an easier way.’ Then added, in answer to Luke’s curious look, ‘Remember Gary McClintock? The guy who used to come to school on his trail bike?’