Street that Rhymed at 3am

by Mark Timlin

  ‘Hi, Angie,’ he said.

  He introduced Angie and me by our Christian names and we went inside. There was a big geezer sitting in a chair just inside the door. He had the Standard on a small table beside him next to the ashtray. He looked at us in a deadpan way but said and did nothing else.

  Angie led us down another hall and into the living room of the flat that had been converted into a bar and waiting room for the punters. The blinds were drawn, two other young women were sitting on a sofa talking, and an older woman sat on a stool behind the bar. Paul McCartney and Wings was on the stereo and racing was on the box, with the sound turned down, on a shelf in the corner.

  All in all it was pretty depressing. But sometimes I think I get too easily depressed these days, what with one thing and another.

  The older woman stood up when we entered, and Angie clapped her hands at the two girls on the sofa. ‘Come on, you lot,’ she said. ‘Look alive! We have guests.’

  The two girls got up and sashayed over. Angie said, ‘Beer?’ Darkman and I both nodded and the older woman set up six bottles and knocked the tops off each.

  We sat down on the stools in front of the bar and Darkman set his briefcase on the counter. Angie stood close to him and the other two girls made a beeline for me. I got a brunette of about twenty in a low-cut black dress and a girl with slightly lighter hair and similar outfit, but this time in red.

  The brunette reached for her drink, bumping me as she did so, and said, ‘You look sad.’

  I looked at her and sipped at the neck of my bottle. ‘I am sad,’ I replied.

  ‘You don’t have to be.’

  ‘Don’t I?’

  ‘No. I’m here now.’

  ‘And you can help?’

  ‘I’ve done it before.’

  ‘Not with me.’

  ‘True. But we could have fun trying.’

  ‘Another time, maybe. I’m with him and he’s here on business. Another kind of business,’ I added.

  ‘I know that,’ said the girl. ‘I’m not stupid,’ and turned to her friend.

  But you’re here, I thought, but said nothing. I was there, too. Work it out.

  Darkman drank some of his beer, then went over to the sofa with Angie, put the briefcase on his knee and opened it. I couldn’t see the contents because the top was in front of me, but it didn’t matter as he pulled out a plastic baggie, fat with all sorts. But not the liquorice kind.

  Angie had a close squint then pulled a wad of notes from the waistband of her skirt and they did a swap. Darkman closed the case and whispered something to her. She looked at me, shrugged and whispered something back. Darkman came back to the bar and motioned the older woman over. They had a whispered conversation too, and this time it was her that gave me a long look before nodding.

  Darkman grinned and moved down the bar towards me. ‘You’re staying,’ he said. ‘It’s all arranged. You’ve got to choose one of those two.’ He indicated the girls that had almost joined me.

  ‘What?’ I said. ‘I dunno…’

  ‘Do it,’ he said. ‘Fuck me, man! It’s all free. I’m taking care of the bill.’

  ‘You’re too kind,’ I said. ‘OK, I’ll take her.’ I nodded in the direction of the brunette who’d spoken to me. At least we’d had some kind of relationship, however brief.

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Yo, Annette! Get your fine botty over here. You got a new boyfriend.’

  24

  ‘Lucky me,’ she said, as she came back into our sphere of influence. ‘Just when I thought the whole day was going to be a waste.’

  I had to smile. I had been a bit of an arsehole, after all. ‘Sorry about before,’ I said. ‘My day hasn’t been that great either.’ Understatement, or what?

  ‘Is that right? I am sorry.’

  Obviously I’d trodden on a pet corn with my previous comment. Perhaps she was a distress counsellor beneath the slap.

  ‘Another drink?’ I said, to break the mood.

  ‘Sure. A large brandy.’

  I looked at Darkman’s face. He wasn’t happy. ‘I’ll pay for the booze,’ I said, as I ordered a round for the house. ‘We don’t want you getting into the red.’

  Whilst the woman behind the bar was getting our drinks, I dragged Darkman to one side. ‘Do they know I’m Britain’s most wanted?’ I asked.

  ‘They know you’re in trouble. Don’t worry about it. They’re used to it here.’

  ‘I’ll be in bigger trouble if one of them sees the news and grasses me up.’

  ‘Don’t worry, they won’t. They like living.’ He had an evil leer on his face as he spoke, and I believed him. But you never know what people will do.

  ‘Famous last words,’ I said.

  ‘Listen. You’re safe here. Take my word.’

  ‘I’ve got no choice, have I?’

  ‘Not a lot.’

  ‘OK. But not too long, eh?’

  ‘Not at the prices they’re charging me for your bed and board, believe me.’

  ‘And not just bed and board by the sounds of it.’

  ‘This ain’t a fucking hotel, man. They’ve only got so many rooms. You’ve got to share. Sorry… what the fuck am I saying? How hard is it going to be, staying with her?’

  ‘Depends on how good she is.’

  ‘You’re a filthy bastard, Sharman.’

  Whilst we’d been talking I’d noticed the older woman giving Annette the SP. She didn’t look too pleased, but on the other hand she hadn’t slashed her wrists, so I guessed everything would work out. That is, as long as one of the girls didn’t check my mug on TV and decide to turn me in.

  We went back and Annette gave me a closer look. ‘Seems you’re staying with me,’ she said.

  ‘A minder,’ I replied. ‘I’ve always wanted one.’

  25

  When he’d finished his beer, Darkman split. ‘I’ll be in touch later,’ he said at the off. ‘Don’t leave the place. There’s everything you want here.’

  ‘Apart from the bastards who killed those coppers.’ And Laura too, but I didn’t say that. That could wait.

  ‘Don’t worry about the filth. There’s too many of them as it is.’

  But who do you call when someone’s nicked the video? A drug dealer? Probably. But only to buy the sodding thing back.

  ‘Sure,’ I said. But that wasn’t the way I felt.

  After he’d gone, I went back to join Annette. ‘Want to see where you’re staying?’ she said.

  ‘Sure.’

  She took me out of the bar, down the hall to another room. Inside, it was sizeable, the walls painted peach, with a high ceiling and two big windows looking out over the service area at the back of the flats. Outside the window was a metal walkway and a fire escape leading up and down. Useful, I thought.

  The room was split into two by a divider. One half was the sleeping and business part, with a large double bed covered in cuddly toys, and a wardrobe and washbasin. In the other was a sofa, coffee table, stereo, TV and video and a bookcase crammed with paperbacks. It was warm and perfumed and she drew thick drapes over the windows.

  ‘Nice,’ I said.

  ‘I have to live here too.’ And I started to feel sad again. This time for her, and that was dangerous.

  To break that mood I took the two automatics out of my coat pockets and the Colt that was tucked into my belt, and threw them on the counterpane.

  ‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. But I know that you know that the police think I’ve been a naughty boy. But I haven’t. It’s a long story that doesn’t concern you. But I can be. And I will if anyone here thinks it’d be a good idea to give them a buzz.’

  ‘Not me,’ she said, glancing at the guns from the corner of her eye. ‘I’m like the three wise monkeys all rolled into one
.’

  ‘That’s good, Annette,’ I said. ‘Very good. You remember that and you’ll be fine and we’ll get along great. But forget it for a moment and I promise you’ll be living in a world of pain you never knew existed. You clear on that?’

  She said nothing, so I grabbed her wrist and twisted it hard until she cried out softly.

  ‘I asked if you were clear on that?’ I hated behaving like that, but I had to show her what I was capable of. Or maybe wasn’t. But I hoped neither of us would be forced to find out.

  She nodded and I saw tears in her eyes. ‘Now how many of you live here?’ I asked.

  ‘Five of us,’ she said, rubbing her arm. ‘Including May. It’s a massive flat.’

  ‘May?’

  ‘The boss. The woman behind the bar.’

  ‘What about the heavy on the door?’

  ‘There’s three of them. They work shifts. They don’t live here.’

  ‘Fine. Tell me about the place.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘The layout.’

  ‘You saw the bar. That’s where we sit when we’re working, but not… working. If you see what I mean.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Go down the hall and there’s four more bedrooms like this, two bathrooms, a separate loo, and at the side a big kitchen. That’s all there is to it.’

  ‘Good. See, it’s no problem, Annette, is it? We can be pals for as long as I’m here. Which I hope won’t be long.’

  I could tell from her face that she seconded that motion.

  ‘There’s no need to be horrible to me,’ she said. ‘I won’t tell on you.’

  ‘I know you won’t, love. The spade I came in with can turn nasty if provoked. Nastier than me. And I’m bad enough.’

  ‘I know all about him.’

  ‘Good. Now I’m going to need some things.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘Toothbrush, razor, shaving foam. Some socks and underwear.’

  ‘There’s a Marks not far and a big Boots.’

  ‘Great. You can do me a bit of shopping this afternoon. But make sure you go to the shops. Capeesh?’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Then we’ll both get along famously.’

  26

  Thursday afternoon/Thursday evening

  ‘Do you want to?’ she said, looking at the bed where the guns still lay.

  I knew what she meant. ‘No thanks, love,’ I said. ‘I’m not in the mood right now.’ After what I’d seen that morning I didn’t know when I’d be in the mood again. ‘Tell me about the other girls who stay here.’

  ‘There’s Angie, and the other girl you saw, Dot. Then there’s Emily. She’s got a punter.’

  ‘So you’re quiet.’

  ‘It’s the time of year. All the johns are getting it for free at the office party.’

  Shit, I’d forgotten about Christmas. And Judith. I needed to phone her.

  ‘You go shopping,’ I said. ‘I need to make a call.’

  ‘There’s no phone in here… it’s in the bar.’

  ‘I’ve got a mobile.’

  I fished in my pocket for one of the fifties I’d liberated from Parker’s room and gave it to her. ‘Socks to fit shoe size ten. Black. Three pairs. Medium T-shirt and shorts. White. The same. A shirt. Oxford cotton, button-down would be good. Any colour. Sixteen-and-a-half collar. Extra-long sleeves. And the toilet stuff.’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘Good girl. And not a word. Remember that too.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Great. So off you go.’

  She got a black double-breasted coat out of the wardrobe and put it on, then left.

  I took out the wrap and did up a line on the coffee table, then lit a cigarette and wished for a beer. But I wasn’t going back to the bar. Who knew who’d be there? Instead I took out the mobile I’d taken from Latimer, switched it on and keyed in Jane’s home number.

  She answered on the third ring. ‘Nick,’ I said.

  ‘What the hell have you been up to now? It’s all over the news.’

  ‘It wasn’t me Jane. I was set up.’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘Again. Is Judith there?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then let me speak to her.’

  The handset went down hard and after a second or two Judith came on. ‘Daddy,’ she said, ‘how come it’s always you?’

  ‘Just lucky, I guess. You know it wasn’t me.’

  ‘’Course.’

  ‘That’s one of the best things about you: you always believe me, no matter what.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Better you don’t know. But I’m safe.’

  ‘Are you going to be all right?’

  ‘Sure I am,’ I said with more conviction than I felt.

  ‘Because I don’t think I can go through this again. Not you. You’re all I’ve got left.’

  I felt a lump in my throat. ‘Don’t cry, baby,’ I said.

  ‘I’m not going to. I’m all cried out.’

  I felt like a complete failure.

  ‘Judith,’ I said, ‘I promise you faithfully I’ll get this sorted. Christmas dinner, remember? Am I still invited?’

  ‘I remember. Of course you are. It wouldn’t be the same without you. And I’ve got you a nice present.’ But her voice sounded old and lost, and I don’t think she expected me.

  ‘And your present,’ I said, remembering the parcel I’d hidden in the bottom of my wardrobe back in the flat; the one I was going to give her before she left for the States. ‘You’ve got to have that on Christmas Day. It’s important.’

  ‘That’ll be nice.’

  ‘It’s something you want.’ It was a pair of leather boots with rollerblades attached, and they’d cost me one and a half at Lilly-whites. She was going to get them, too. On Christmas Day if I had to kill to get them there. But that was what I was afraid of. ‘Trust me, darling,’ I said. ‘I’ve not let you down yet.’

  That was a laugh.

  ‘I trust you, Daddy. And I love you.’

  ‘I’ve got to go now, sweetheart. I’ll see you on Monday, if not before.’

  Four days. Four days to get everything copacetic. Well, we’d see.

  ‘Goodbye, Daddy,’ she said. ‘Do you want to speak to Auntie Jane?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Give her my love.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Bye.’ And I cut off the call.

  Then the phone rang.

  ‘Shit,’ I said aloud, and nearly dropped the bloody thing. It felt red-hot in my hand. For a second I was tempted to answer it, but resisted and turned it off instead. Surely they couldn’t trace its location, could they? That would be just great.

  After all that, I needed a beer even more and I was starting to get hungry, but still wouldn’t leave the safety of Annette’s room.

  I went to the sofa, sat down and lit a cigarette. There was a knock on the door. I stood up, grabbed the Colt, went over and opened it a fraction. I didn’t really expect Old Bill to be so polite, but you never knew. Instead, the woman from behind the bar was standing there with a tray of sandwiches, a vacuum flask, a cup, saucer, sugar bowl and, best of all, two bottles of Becks in an ice bucket with a glass. ‘I thought you might want something to eat,’ she said. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘You’re amazing,’ I said, opened the door all the way and let her in.

  ‘I’m May,’ she said coolly, with a slight Liverpool accent, eyeing the pistol. ‘And I hope you won’t have to use that.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Annette told me. Sorry about the gun. Force of habit.’

  ‘Normally I wouldn’t let you in here with it, but I owe Darkman plenty. He saw off some very nasty people for me a while ago
.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ I said. ‘Otherwise it’d be a cardboard box in Waterloo for me tonight, and it’s no weather for it.’

  ‘He told me you were OK. I hope he was right.’

  ‘I didn’t do it, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I mean, Mr Sharman. It’s not a great photo.’

  ‘You’ve seen the TV?’

  ‘And the later editions of the Standard. You’re a popular man.’

  ‘Listen. If you don’t want me here I’d rather just go than have half the Met come round with semi-automatic weapons.’

  ‘They won’t hear about it from me or any of my girls. We’re loyal and know when to keep our mouths shut.’

  ‘And the bloke on the door?’

  ‘Him too. Just don’t outstay your welcome.’

  ‘I won’t, May. I might be gone tonight. Darkman’s doing some digging for me to find out who really murdered those people.’

  ‘I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. Enjoy your food.’

  ‘I will, May, believe me.’

  ‘And listen. You didn’t have to hurt Annette. That was out of order.’

  I felt like a shit again. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I was scared.’

  ‘We’re all scared, Mr Sharman. It’s the human condition. What we do here isn’t exactly legal, you know. We don’t want the scuffers round mob-handed any more than you do. Just remember that Annette’s merchandise, my merchandise, and I don’t want her damaged. If she is you’ll pay, and pay heavily.’

  Merchandise. So much for sisters under the skin.

  ‘I’ll remember that, May,’ I assured her.

  ‘Be sure you do.’

  And she left me to my snack. But I’d lost my appetite and just poured myself a beer.

  27

  Not long after, Annette came back. She had a couple of plastic shopping bags with her, and a small black carry-all. ‘Thought you might need this,’ she said. ‘For your stuff.’