Ashes by Now (11 page)

30

When I opened the flat door, Dawn was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee and inhaling a Silk Cut. She got up, dropped the cigarette into her coffee mug, where it died with a hiss, and came over and gave me a hug. Boy, did I need one.

‘What happened?' she asked.

I let her know what I
thought
had happened. That Chas had stuck his beak into Collier and the rest's business just a bit too far, and they'd snapped it off.

‘Will he be all right?'

I told her that I was none the wiser. The way I said it set her off. ‘Oh God. He's not going to die is he?'

I took her in my arms and tried to comfort her. ‘Relax,' I said. ‘He'll be OK.'

As we stood together, taking some comfort in the warmth from each other's bodies, the phone rang. ‘That's the fourth time,' said Dawn. ‘When I answer it there's no one there. I thought it was you from a dodgy call box.'

I picked up the receiver, and said hello.

‘You and your fucking mates never learn do they?' It was Collier.

‘You cunt,' I said.

‘Flattery will get you nowhere,' he replied. ‘I told you, didn't I? But you wouldn't listen. Fancy sending some bastard from the press around to do your dirty work.'

‘You're fucked,' I said. ‘It's just a matter of time.'

‘Fucked for what?'

‘For covering up for Byrne. I know what he did to Carol Harvey. And I know what you and Millar and Grisham did to cover it up.'

It was the first time I'd told Collier what I knew, but it didn't seem to worry him at all. He'd had too many years of being a law unto himself, and he took it in his stride. But I realised I'd probably signed my death warrant by telling him. ‘Prove it,' he said coolly.

That was the problem: proof. But I knew that Collier had something hidden away somewhere. And it was my job to find it.

‘I will,' I said.

‘Don't hold your breath. It was all too long ago.'

‘There's no time limit on murder.'

‘I'm shaking in my shoes.'

‘You will be.'

‘Save it. Pull out now before someone gets seriously hurt.' He put down the phone.

‘Who was that?' said Dawn.

‘Collier.'

‘He never gives up, does he?'

‘He will. I'm going to have that bastard. I know he's got something that implicates Byrne. I've just got to find it.'

‘Where?'

‘His place. That's where I'll start. But right now I want you out of here. Somewhere safe. Not home. And get Tracey on the blower. I want her out of there too, as fast as she can go. Have you got someplace to go?'

‘I don't want to leave you,' she said.

‘I know you don't, but you've got to. It's too dangerous for you to be about. I've got enough things to think about without worrying about you.'

‘We could go to Tracey's mum's.'

‘Where's that?'

‘Milton Keynes. They moved her up there when they knocked down the old buildings in Bermondsey, where she used to live.'

‘Terrific,' I said. ‘Who'd ever think of looking for you
there
? Go on, phone Tracey up. I want you out of here now.'

‘Nick, it's not six yet.'

‘The best time. Tell her to get packed. Nip round and pick her up, and don't let anyone follow you.'

She began to protest, but I cut her off, and she did as she was told.

Dawn didn't say much when she got through, but I heard the urgency in her voice, and I hoped Tracey did too.

When she put down the phone, she said, ‘I'm meeting her on the corner of our street in twenty minutes. She's packing us a bag each. She'll suss out if anyone's watching. She's an expert, is our Trace. Used to do a bit of hoisting. She's got eyes in the back of her head.'

Obviously Tracey had talents even I hadn't seen.

‘Go on then,' I said. ‘And be careful.'

She grabbed her handbag and left, pausing just long enough to rub her crotch against mine, and stick her tongue in my mouth.

‘I'll be seeing you,' she said.

‘Count on it.'

She went downstairs, and I heard the engine of her car start with a sound like pebbles being rattled in a cocoa tin. When the noise had faded, I rang Jacqueline Harvey. She answered on the tenth ring, just when I was beginning to get worried.

‘Jackie,' I said, ‘are you OK?'

‘I was until you called at this ridiculous hour,' she complained.

I explained what had happened to Chas.

‘Oh, no,' she said. ‘It's starting again, isn't it?'

I didn't bother saying that it already had.

‘The poor man,' she went on. ‘All because of me. I hope he'll be all right.'

‘So do I,' I said.

‘Who did it?'

‘Collier.'

‘The policeman?'

‘The same.'

‘Can't you tell someone?'

‘Who? The police? Don't make me laugh, Jackie. It doesn't work like that in the real world. They stand by their own. I've got no proof, at least until Chas comes to, and even then it's just his word against theirs.'

‘This is a nightmare.'

‘Tell me about it. Now I want you out of sight. Somewhere away from home. Is there anywhere you can go?'

‘Not really. Anyway, why should I go anywhere? I haven't done anything wrong.'

‘I know that,' I said patiently. ‘But I still think you'd be better off away. Haven't you got any friends you could visit for a few days?'

‘No.'

‘How about your father?'

‘I haven't seen him for ages. I told you that.'

‘I think it might be time for a tearful reunion. I believe he's living near Lewes these days.'

‘That's right. Did I tell you that?'

‘Someone did. Please. I'd feel much happier if you were down there with him, rather than up here on your own.'

‘I'm not going there.'

‘You'd be safer.'

‘Is that right? I haven't felt safe around the male members of my family for a long time. My father did nothing to protect my sister and myself all those years ago. Why would I be safe with him now?'

‘Your father didn't know what was going on,' I said.

‘He should have made it his business to know.'

Which was fair enough.

‘I could stay with you,' she said.

The silence hung heavy over the line.

‘No,' I said.

I heard her exhale breath. ‘Don't worry, I'm not after your manly body.'

‘That's not the problem, Jackie,' I replied. ‘The problem is that here you're as much a hostage to fortune as you are at your own place. I'd love for you to stay, believe me. I wish it was that simple. But I want you somewhere out of the way. Not in the main combat zone, which it looks like this flat is fast becoming.' I thought for a moment. ‘How about a hotel?' I said.

There was another, longer pause.

‘I suppose,' she said.

‘I'll get something fixed up. I'll talk to the news editor on the paper. Maybe they'll help. Otherwise I'll book you something myself. Could you go this morning?'

‘No. I have to go to work. I can't just vanish. I need to give them a little notice.'

‘How much?'

‘If I go in today, maybe I could take some time off, starting tomorrow.'

‘That sounds good. Do it as soon as you go in. I'll call you later.'

‘All right.'

And with that we made our farewells.

Straight away I called the offices of the paper Chas was writing the story for. It was still not six-thirty, but the switchboard was open, and the woman who answered told me that Tom Slade wouldn't be in until eight. I said I'd ring back.

Then I made some tea, lit a cigarette, and sat down to have a good think.

I was still sitting there an hour later with an ashtray full of cigarette ends, a cup half full of cold PG Tips with a skin on the top, and a mouth that tasted like an open sewer, when the doorbell rang.

I stayed where I was and it rang once more. Shit, I thought, not again.

I went over to the window, pulled back the edge of the curtain and squinted through the gap. There was a dark blue Sierra that I didn't recognise parked behind my Vauxhall. It had an RT aerial stuck to the back window and screamed Old Bill.

I went downstairs as the doorbell rang for the third time. I took the sawn-off pool cue I keep in the kitchen in case of mice with me.

I decided that if it was Collier, I was going to hit him first and ask questions later. Maybe not the wisest thing to do under the circumstances, but certainly the most satisfying. I flung open the door and Detective Inspector Robber was standing inside the porch gnawing on an apple.

‘Elevenses?' I said.

He tossed the core into the front garden and pushed past me. ‘You took your bleeding time,' he said. ‘I'm dying for a piss. And put that thing down. It's an offensive weapon, and I could nick you for carrying it.' He lumbered up the stairs to my flat.

I followed him up, and walked through the door behind him, put the pool cue back where it belonged and cleared away the cup and ashtray as I heard him relieving himself into my toilet.

When he came out, I said, ‘You didn't wash your hands.'

He didn't reply, just took one of my cigarettes from the open packet and lit it with one of my matches, then sat down.

‘Make yourself at home,' I said.

Still no reply.

‘I suppose you want tea?' I said.

He nodded.

‘Have you got this place mixed up with a café and public convenience?' I said.

He snorted.

‘Is this official?' I always seemed to be asking him that.

‘What do
you
think? You turn up at King's in the middle of the night with a reporter who looks like he's gone six rounds with the Terminator. Then I come round, and I'm greeted with you wielding a bloody club like a caveman out to catch his lunch, and you ask me if it's official. Course it's bloody official. And you're lucky it's me that's doing the asking, otherwise you'd be down at the station, not making tea here. And talking of that, get it brewed, will you, I'm gasping.'

I went into the kitchen and pushed the button on the back of the electric kettle, pulled out two mugs, and put in tea bags, milk and sugar.

Robber stubbed out the cigarette and lit another.

‘So what's the story?' I asked.

‘That's what I was hoping you'd tell me.'

I shrugged, as the kettle boiled, and I filled the mugs and stirred them.

‘Don't fuck about for
Christ's
sake,' said Robber. ‘I've only got so much patience.'

I told him what had happened: Chas arriving on the doorstep and me getting him to the hospital. That was all I was going to tell him.

‘And what do you think brought it all on?' asked Robber.

‘I don't know,' I lied.

‘It's just coincidence I suppose,' he said with heavy irony. ‘You're beaten up a few weeks ago, and now your mate gets the same treatment. A reporter who everyone knows is as thick as thieves with you.'

‘It's a tough town,' I said. ‘These things happen.'

I took his mug over to him and he looked up at me. ‘Don't take the piss, Sharman. What do you think I've got for brains here? Cold rice pudding? I've got a feeling you're obstructing my investigation, and I don't like that one little bit.'

‘I don't know what you want me to say,' I replied.

‘Just tell me who's behind all this, that's all. And why it's happening.'

‘I wish I could,' I said.

And I did, sincerely. In fact, just for one second, I was tempted to tell Robber what was happening, but I knew that coppers' loyalty was thicker than water, so I didn't.

Robber snorted and gave me a right how's-your-father look.

‘It wasn't me, you know,' I said. ‘Who done it, I mean. I don't know why you're sitting here wasting time and taxpayers' money, and using my place like the staff canteen. Why aren't you out finding the real villains?'

I could tell Robber wasn't impressed by my earnest show of innocence. In his place neither would I have been.

I shut up then, for a minute.

‘How is Chas?' I asked, after the minute was up. All the time I'd been sitting alone in my flat since Dawn had left, I'd been meaning to call the hospital, but I didn't have the nerve. Just in case the news was all bad.

‘I thought you'd never ask,' said Robber. ‘He'll survive. Just about. He's been badly beaten. By experts, the doctor says. His car's still outside where he lives. So whoever did it must have dumped him here. I wonder why that was?'

I shrugged again. What else could I do? But I knew each shrug was putting me on to thinner ice.

Robber slurped at his tea and lit a third cigarette. Come to think of it, I'd never ever seen him with a packet of his own.

When he'd drained the mug, he stood up and said, ‘If you think of anything, give me a call. I'm not hard to find.'

Just hard to get shot of, I thought.

As if to ram home the point, he said, ‘I'll be back. I know you're not giving me the full SP. You'll never bloody learn, Sharman, will you? You and your little one-man band. Why don't you just get into the real world and tell me what the fuck's going on, and save yourself and your mates any more grief?'

‘If I could, I would,' I said. And once again I wasn't lying.

But Robber just shook his head sadly and left.

By then, it was past eight, and I rang the paper back. ‘Tom Slade,' I said when the switchboard answered.

This time I got put through to his secretary who didn't like it when I refused to tell her who I was. Eventually a voice barked in my ear, ‘What?'

‘I'm a friend of Chas Singleton's,' I said. ‘Have you heard?'