Force Of Habit v5

by Robert Bartlett

  ‘The ‘A Tonic For The Troops Charity’ off South Shore Road?’

  North pulled an exasperated look.

  ‘Yes or no?’

  ‘Those little pricks!’

  ‘Yes or no.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I was tailing a suspect – it’s what proper police do, you miserable fuck.’ North was going to enjoy bringing the little shit down. It took some restraint to not start unloading what he already had on him but he didn’t know how deep he was involved. For all North knew Scanlan could have put the Choirboys up to this. He hoped that he had.

  ‘Who you suspected of what?’ said Scanlan.

  ‘Being involved in the Lumsden case.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Every fucking which way so, he is linked to every part of it, including the church where we found Matt.’

  ‘You suspected him of killing DCI Mason? You were going to arrest him?’

  ‘I was tailing him. Trying to see who he connected with to get the bigger picture. I suspect he could be involved in a lot of this including Matt’s murder. The suspect led me right into a pack of Choirboys, who I also suspect of serious involvement,’ he looked Scanlan in the eye. ‘I’m beginning to think I was set-up.’

  ‘What did you do when you saw them?’

  ‘I was taken aback. They started taking the piss. I saw red. You know the rest, look, I was out of order, but this is all bullshit, Scanlan. You could have at least waited a few more hours, until I came in, I’m a fucking wreck. I need a decent kip.’

  ‘Tell us what happened,’ he said.

  ‘Fuck’s sake.’ North was going to make sure Scanlan paid for this – with interest. He went through what he could remember.

  ‘My emotions were a tad high, it's all kind of a blur, look, do what you have to do but this is their word against mine and I counter charge. It was self defence. The fuckers set me up. I bet they are saying they were all there, saw it all and reported it to the police like honest to goodness citizens do. They killed Matt and now they are being allowed to take the piss out of me? They are taking the piss out of all of us.’

  ‘And you're not?’

  ‘What's that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I am charging you with the murder of Jed Harris.’

  ‘What?’

  Scanlan read him his rights.

  ‘What's going on?’

  ‘Jed Harris is dead. The weapon used was still in his body. Guess whose prints are on it?’

  ‘I want a lawyer,’ said North.

  ***

  North was processed and banged up downstairs. Everyone was very apologetic about it. Dave the Desk brought him a nice breakfast.

  ‘What happened?’ North asked.

  Dave the Desk looked at him. Appraised.

  ‘Serious?’

  ‘As cancer. What the fuck is going on, Dave? I had a go at a few of them and they just took it and then gave me a bunch of bollocks about lodging a complaint. I never believed they actually would, since when did their sort lodge complaints? How did Harris die?’ Would the questions ever end?

  ‘He was stabbed through the eye with a pool cue. It was forced right into his brain. He was found flat on his back with the cue still standing straight up out of his peanut.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘The witness said you did it right after beating seven bells out of him.’

  ‘A lanky streak of piss?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And they believe him?’

  ‘Scanlan and the Chief seemed to want to believe him. They rushed through forensics.’

  ‘And I’m all over the lanky streak and my dabs are all over the cue,’ North recalled his use of it earlier, breaking heads down gang central. He came back to the present to find Dave looking at him. ‘I kind of waded into a bunch of them with it when I got there. It was the first thing handy.’

  ‘Handy for who?’ asked Dave.

  ‘Quite,’ said North.

  THIRTY-THREE

  The familiar acrid cocktail of piss and disinfectant invaded North’s nostrils, the back of the Reliance transport replicating the stairwells and elevators of the tenements and tower blocks back on the estates where the regular passengers came from. Where North came from.

  He was glad it was only a ten minute ride to the courthouse. He didn’t want to think about the onward journey after his hearing. He wouldn’t have the same exclusivity then. Everyone receiving a custodial sentence plus those charged and remanded in custody until their trial at Crown Court would be crammed in for several hours as they made their way on to prison. Most would have been here before and knew the score, that there were no toilet facilities, but some would hold their bladders on purpose, pissing all over the floor en route just to see if a guard got careless when he opened the door on arrival and got a proper dousing.

  North expected to be joining them, he didn’t need a brief to tell him that he was going to be refused bail. And it was long odds but one of his fellow onward travellers could recognise him, in which case it would be short odds on him ending up on that floor, bleeding into the piss as the fun got under way early. Even if they didn’t know him from Adam it would be all over the nick by the time he was processed. The Choirboys in there would know already and be heading up the welcoming committee.

  Sirens surrounded the vehicle and North watched the Monday morning faces on the passing pavements as they turned towards the blue, revolving lights, every one of them wondering what kind of Hannibal Lecter must be in there to warrant all the security.

  On arrival he was taken to a holding cell to await his allotted time and when it came he emerged into a buzzing courtroom, the noise quickly fading away as the packed out pews gaped at the copper up on a murder charge, accused of killing the man he suspected of having killed his colleague.

  North didn’t fuck about.

  It wouldn’t take long for the District Judge to offer up her verdict and then the two lardies escorting him would cuff him and take him back down to the cells. They were stood just behind and to either side of him. He brought both arms up and back, like a kid playing aeroplanes. Each connected with a lardy throat and fucked them up pretty good. He applied a knee to each groin and pushed them down the steps. Sorted.

  It was a big, old court room. Nice high ceilings. No floor to ceiling barrier here. North jumped onto a grille and scaled the ten foot perspex dock wall and charged forward. There had been a delay before the first cry went up as realisation at what was happening spread. Then the place erupted. A man to his right started to rise and North simply pushed him back down. The push had some force and the guy tumbled from his seat with a clatter. This served as enough warning to the rest to stay put and not play hero. He made the rest of the way to the doors unhindered. Out on the landing two security guards were advancing. North increased his speed now he had a clear run and was on them, charging the first with his left shoulder. The guard flew off balance into the second and North kept going, aware that another two had appeared and were close behind. It had been years since he’d been in the building but little had changed to the layout. Maybe his luck was on the up. He made straight for the front door, took the steps down four at a time and crossed the plaza towards the busiest road on it, aiming for the city labyrinth beyond.

  ‘Get in!’

  The voice took him by surprise and cost him. This time his own brain stalled and he pulled up, staring into the line of traffic. He was pushed forward and almost went down as a force piled into him. He was pulled backwards as he fought for balance and an arm came around his neck, trying to put him in a choke hold. North raised his arms and pushed himself up as high as he could before dropping all of his weight, spinning round as he did so. The guards grip was broken and North brought a fist forward with his rotating momentum and forced it into the man’s stomach. North was already turning for the next guard as the first slumped to his knees but the next one had already thought better of it and simply pointed to others
coming across the concourse. North was outnumbered.

  ‘Stop pissing about and get in.’

  He heard the voice more clearly now. There was no urgency about it, but then again there wouldn’t be. Not in that voice. It came from the rear of a silver Mondeo now sat on the part of the road closest to him.

  ‘Get in you prick!’ Came an urgent cry from the front of the vehicle. Another familiar voice.

  North trotted over and the rear door opened. He got in and watched radios rising to ears as his pursuers fell away, the Mondeo cutting into the traffic and expertly picking its way out of town.

  North grinned at the occupants.

  They grinned back.

  ‘You had more outriders than the Queen on the way there,’ said the man in the back. ‘I honestly thought that you had gotten yourself right in the shit this time.’

  ‘But they all fucked off right after they dropped you off and left you to that lot,’ said the front man. ‘Its like they want everyone to escape. They’re the same poor fuckers you get guarding Asda’s and Tesco’s for fucks sake. Its not right.’

  ‘Maybe its all part of the cut backs,’ said North. ‘The Justice Secretary wants to keep the prison population down to save money but doesn’t want to be seen to be encouraging lenient sentencing so he makes it easy for them to have it on their toes at a convenient juncture in the judicial process.’

  They all laughed.

  ‘You’re turning into a right Bad Lieutenant, North.’

  ‘It’s good to see you Ray,’ he clasped the shoulder of the man next to him. ‘Tonto,’ he did the same to the man driving. ‘Where’s Girl?’

  ‘Back there. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. You managed to sort them so it will be a picnic for him if they twig and start something. We thought it best he was handy just in case you needed a bit of help when you came out - and if you didn’t see him, that bunch sure as hell wont have.’

  ‘You knew I’d be coming then.’

  ‘We had a hunch that you would opt for adding ‘wanted for escaping from lawful custody and assaulting a number of security officer’s’ to your CV. It seemed preferable to the alternative.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Tonto. ‘If you didn’t you’d have had a whole bunch of stiff cocks stabbing at your shit by teatime, for sure.’

  THIRTY-FOUR

  ‘So, have you figured out who it is yet?’

  They were all together. It had been a while. North, Tonto, Girl and Ray.

  North took another drag. Held it. Sarah only mentioned the drink. His conscience was clear.

  He shook his head.

  ‘You better stop pissing about,’ said Ray. ‘Harrington is going to have them shooting on sight after today,’ he took the joint. Took a toke.

  ‘Good for me that they’re still voting to walk the beat unarmed.’

  ‘The one’s he sends after you won’t be,’ Tonto took the spliff.

  ‘They’re probably at your place already,’ North said to Ray. ‘You will be the first place they come look for me – Harrington did his research.’

  ‘Good job I stepped out then,’ said Ray. ‘They’ll find me when I’m good and ready. You can stay here. It should give you a few days breathing space even if they dedicate a whole team to going through our books, searching for all our assets. It’s like three-dimensional sudoku in there, all the companies, holding companies, leases and sub-lets.’

  ‘You’re not going to be in any bother?’

  ‘Nah, that stuff we don’t keep records on,’ he smiled.

  ‘We’re practically totally legit these days anyhow,’ said Girl. He didn’t sound too chuffed about it.

  ‘We do enough to keep our hand in, it wouldn’t do to get rusty. You must have some Scooby who you’re after?’

  ‘I have a couple of names, but neither of them do it for me. They just don’t sit right.’

  ‘You could just be becoming a bad judge of character in your old age.’

  ‘That’ll be the day – and at least I’ve still got all my hair.’

  ‘Call that hair?’ said Girl, thick blonde locks down to his arse. With all the muscle and fake tan he looked like he had just stepped off Venice Beach.

  ‘Scanlan’s one.’

  ‘Arnie?’

  ‘See what I mean? But Arnie, the twat, is nobbing the daughter of a family who are all over this, being used and abused by whoever is running the show and Arnie is abusing the daughter – she’s fifteen.’

  ‘The Kindergarten Cop? We are talking about the same Arnie?’

  ‘I thought he was bent,’ said Tonto.

  ‘He obviously is, just not in the way you thought,’ said North.

  ‘A nonce. That I can believe.’

  ‘Who is the other one?’ said Ray.

  ‘Eddie George.’

  Girl whistled. That about summed it up.

  ‘The cops and Mr Clean are the bad guys?’ said Ray. ‘Holy crap.’

  ‘Man, you are way up shit creek without a paddle and that’s one cruise you gotta pass on,’ said Tonto.

  ‘I agree,’ said Ray. ‘It seems unlikely that Arnie is the big fish you’re after, but there have to be other minnows swimming in the thin blue too, more than just Arnie.’

  ‘I’m working on it.’

  ‘Yeah? Well it’s going real well for you. This whole Sarah thing has twisted your melon, man. You let a bunch of toe-rags do you up like a kipper.’

  North laughed. With Raymond Street and the boys you didn’t have to justify shit. They all knew that if he had killed Awayday Harris he wouldn’t have even been a suspect, never mind been captured for it.

  Ray was dead right about Sarah too. She had twisted his melon every which way. Only time would sort that. He was getting there.

  ‘And I can’t believe you didn’t remember Awayday Harris. Some copper you are.’

  ‘I remember him.’ You couldn’t forget him. Back in Junior High he was always bunking off and everyone thought that he was a shedhead because he spent the days travelling the northern rail network using those cheap away day specials you could get back then. The school had plenty of train spotters on account of the line running by the playing field. But he had been a drug courier. ‘I just didn’t recognise him. I wouldn’t have pinned that guy for Awayday Harris no matter how long I stared at him, so thanks for the assistance. And all since.’

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘That dealer was ahead of his time, who would have suspected a little kid trafficking back then? How times have changed.’

  ‘We were no angels, but enough of the nostalgia. Right now you need to lay low, rest and re-energise so you can go back out fighting. You look like shit.’

  ‘You need to fight fire with fire,’ said Tonto. ‘Have some more shit.’ North took the freshly rolled joint and fired it up.

  ‘All we hear is that the Choirboys deal most of the streets round these parts. We keep well away from that racket. This stuff is home grown,’ Ray took the roll-up from North. ‘Grade A melon masher for personal consumption only.’

  ‘It’s like old times,’ said North.

  ‘It is now,’ Ray brought out North’s guitar. ‘It was the only thing in your place worth nicking.’

  They jammed along, all out of synch. It was terrible. They all started laughing and descended into giggles. Their one hundred and eighty-eight combined years reduced to a mental age of five. For the first time since North had come home it felt good to be back.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  By the time he twigged it was too late. He was caught like a rat in a trap. Stupid. He pushed the thought away. Those were the thoughts that ensured you died in the trap. He kept on as he had been. At least he could keep them from realising he knew. For now.

  At the bottom of the stairs he strolled into the open area that held the ticket machines and rows of turnstiles that barred the way until fed. As soon as he was out of their sightline he ran, vaulted the barrier and legged it down towards the tunnel wishing he was back in London, and not jus
t because if he'd stayed in London he wouldn't be in this mess, in central London he would have had options. In the right station, one with several lines running through it, he could have disappeared within the maze of pedestrian tunnels that connected them. Here there were only two platforms so all he could hope for was a few extra yards. A sudden roar had him taking the steps two at a time and drawing exclamations and expletives from those he clattered on the way past. He followed the sound to his left to find an empty platform and the arse end of a train disappearing up the city bound tunnel. The board indicated another eight minutes until the next one. He turned back.

  At the bottom of the escalator one of the people he had barged into came forward to challenge him but stopped dead when North looked at him. It wasn't a face you fucked with.

  North carried on towards the other platform, glancing back up the stairwell. There were six of them. No one was saying dick back at them as they waded through, all hooded up. All in Choirboy colours.

  How had he missed them outside? Had they got lucky? Somebody had to be getting all the luck because it sure as hell wasn't him. Had they been watching key areas across town? Had someone put them on to him? He had to get his act back together. He should have seen them earlier than he had. While he was still out in the open. It wasn't like they were hard to spot. These kids didn't believe in blending into the background. Their power was in standing out. Being highly visible. When you could see the constant threat you were way more likely to shut the fuck up when required, and to blab like your Aunty Iris when asked.

  They had passed the halfway mark. North ducked onto the other platform. There were plenty of commuters. That meant it had been a while since the last train so one must be due. Two minutes, the board announced. He turned right and slipped into the crowd, trying to make himself small, keeping his head down. He moved as slow as he dared to create as little disturbance as possible. People filled his wake. He was lost to the gang when they piled in.

  North's heart was hammering. All this shit couldn’t be good for him. He took control of his breathing. Got control of his mind. Readied himself. He daren’t risk a look back. Hopefully they'd split up and trawl the platform to either side of where North came in. He'd only have three to deal with at a time rather than all six at once. And he would have to do it quick. It would be no good to get past these young punks only to find a wall of blue waiting for him at the exit because security had dialled nine-nine-nine while watching it all unfold on a CCTV screen. He slipped his hand inside his jacket and his fingers closed around the rubber handle of the knife sheathed in a shoulder holster. He was already in it up to his eyeballs and he was about to sink even deeper. They would have knives. They carried knives to the cinema these days never mind on a manhunt. North wished he’d waited for Street to come back with a gun, but he’d agreed to rest up and Street was going to swing by with it the next day. But North had been too restless for sleep. Knackered as he was his brain had fried the off switch. He’d decided to press on.