Warned Off (15 page)

He smirked. ‘He’s lousy in bed you know
... she told me that ... Charmain told me ... he’s a lousy lover.’ He tried to
raise his voice but it came out in peaks and troughs of sound. He started
giggling and his head swayed back and forth though his body stayed relaxed.

‘I thought Stoke was a big shot,’ I
said.

He stopped laughing and tried to stare
at me. ‘Big shot!’ Big shot!’ He paused considering. ‘Who cares? Who gives a
toss about the big shot?’

‘Aren’t you scared of what he’ll do when
he finds out you’ve been seeing his wife?’

‘Me? Scared? ... Of him? You don’t know
me, mate ... You don’t know me!’

He was scared all right, even drunk you
could tell. He drank, almost emptying the glass, and I reached for the bottle
and poured him a double hangover.

‘Do you plan to keep living on the boat,
when you start your new job?’

His eyes were closed now, his head
resting on the chair-back, the point of his chin aimed in my direction.
‘Dunno…’ he said, quietly.

‘It’s a nice boat, when did you buy it?’

‘Not mine,’ he mumbled.

‘Whose is it?’

‘Skinner’s.’

‘The vet?’

‘Mmm.’

His lower jaw sagged and his mouth
opened a thumb’s width.

‘How well does Skinner know Stoke?’ I
asked.

He showed no sign of hearing me. I
raised my voice. ‘Phil, how well does Skinner know Howard Stoke?’

He answered with what was to be the
first snore of many on the way to a king-size headache.

I waited five minutes then moved across
and eased him out of his jacket. He didn’t stir. I rolled his sleeves up to
look for needle marks but both arms were clean.

I’d have bet he was up to the same games
as Harle with heroin but it looked like I was wrong. Still there was the
culmination of my little plan to look forward to.

Greene snored on. ‘You enjoy your sleep,
pal.’ I said. ‘To go with your hangover in the morning I’m going to give you a
hell of a hard time.’

I locked both doors and took the keys
with me to bed.

By
dawn I was awake and back in my chair facing Greene. Slumped asleep in the
seat, chin on chest, a very stiff neck awaited him.

It was cold. The grate held only ashes
and I had no intention of lighting a fire; I wanted Greene to feel as
uncomfortable as possible when he woke. Heating my fingers round a mug of
coffee, I watched him.

He was so pale he looked almost grey in
the early light, his lips colourless. His beard growth was barely noticeable.

He moaned and tried to shift position.
‘You awake?’ I asked.

He didn’t answer.

‘Phil ... time to get up.’

He frowned but didn’t answer. I kicked the
sole of his shoe and the frown deepened. Slowly, he pulled his foot away. I
started kicking the other one. ‘Rise ‘n shine, Mister Greene, we’ve got
visitors.’

He opened his eyes and stared at his lap
trying to work out where he was and how he’d got there. I stopped kicking and
stood up to look down at him.

‘Some party, huh?’ I said.

‘Any water?’ he croaked.

I got him some and he pushed himself
onto his elbow and drank all but a mouthful. ‘What were you feeding me?’ His
voice still sounded hoarse, probably from talking too much about himself.

‘Firewater,’ I said.

‘Shit,’ he said, and tried to get up.
‘My neck’s killing me.’ I helped him into the chair.

‘Want some coffee?’

‘Mmm.’

I filled two mugs. He sipped his. It
didn’t seem to help.

‘Your brain working yet?’ I asked.

‘No.’

‘How many people do you know who carry
guns and are built like brick shit-houses?’

His eyelids opened fully revealing badly
bloodshot eyes. He stared at me. ‘What are you asking?’

I repeated the question.

‘Know anyone who fits the description?’
I asked. He looked away.

‘No.’

‘You sure?’

He stared into his coffee. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s funny, they seem to know you.’

He stared at me again. ‘Who? What are
you talking about?’

‘The two guys who paid us a visit during
the night.’

‘Here? They came here?’

I nodded. He tried to smile but couldn’t
manage. ‘You’re kidding  ... You’re just winding me up.’

‘I’ve got better things to do. They
asked for you in person.’

He sat forward. ‘Just knocked the door
and asked?’

‘Not exactly. I heard them prowling
around outside, trying the doors and windows, trying to get in.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I stuck a shotgun out the widow and
pointed at the big one’s head.’

He slurped some coffee but didn’t take
his eyes off me.

‘I asked what he wanted and he said he
wanted you. No trouble for me, just to send you out.’

Resting the coffee mug on his knee he
rubbed his bowed forehead with his free hand. I shrugged. ‘Never mind, if you
don’t know these guys then obviously they’ve made a mistake and you can go
right on out there.’

He looked up sharply. ‘Are they still
there?’ There was an edge of panic.

I nodded. ‘They’re in the woods ...
Waiting.’

‘Oh, Jesus!’ He bowed his head again and
rubbed his eyes. I thought for a moment he was going to cry.

I got up and went to the window.
Standing off to the side I pushed open an inch of curtain and looked out. I
think Greene was holding his breath. I sensed him watching my back intently.
After a minute I turned toward him.

‘They still there?’

‘It might not be as bad as you thought.’
I said.

The relief started creeping across his
face.

‘I can only see one of them ... having
said that, it is the one with the gun ... I suppose his sidekick could be
anywhere.’

He slumped back in the chair and some
coffee slopped over and wet his trousers. I went back and sat across from him.
‘Want to tell me who they are?’

‘I don’t know who they are, not their
names anyway. But they are bad news.’

‘How bad.’

‘Ask Alan Harle.’

‘Did they kill Alan?’

‘I don’t know!’ His voice was growing
panicky again. ‘Shit! ... What am I into here? I’m not saying any more.’ He sat
forward again. ‘Do you hear me? Forget what I said about those blokes, I’m not
saying any more.’

‘Suit yourself.’

We sat in silence for a minute while he
grimaced and fidgeted and sipped at his coffee. He would stare without blinking
for a while, lost in thought, then his eyes would be moving everywhere like a
trapped animal looking for an escape route.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I’ll drive you
home.’

‘No way! I’m not leaving here. Not till
they’ve gone.’

‘You can’t stay.’

‘I’m staying!’ he almost shouted.

‘Okay, but you’re staying on your own.
I’ve got business to attend to and I’m not sitting nursemaid to you.’

His head snapped up and he looked at me again.
‘You can’t leave me by myself! They’ll be through that door as soon as you go.’

‘Too bad, Phil. Until I know what I’m up
against I’m staying out of it.’ I stood and reached for my jacket, pulled it on
and felt for the car keys.

Greene got out of the chair and made to
stand up before realising it put him in direct line with the window. He dropped
quickly on to all fours and crawled to where I stood. Safely out of the window
line he got up.

His face was close to mine but not close
enough for him to start whispering, which is what he did. ‘Look, go out and
tell them I’ve gone. Tell them I left by the back door while it was still
dark.’

‘They don’t look the type to believe it.
In fact the reason I can’t see the other one out there is probably because he’s
covering the back of the house.’

He stood just staring at me,
expressionless. I waited it out.

‘How the hell am I going to get out of
here?’

‘I can get you out but I want to know
who those two guys are. You tell me that and I’ll get you out.’

‘Look, I’ll pay you. I’ll waive the fee
for the article, you can keep it.’

‘There wasn’t going to be any fee. You
were doing it for the glory, kid.’

‘Don’t call me kid!’

‘I’d have thought you’ve got more things
to worry about just now than your ego.’

I started moving toward the window.
Trying to hurry, he stumbled round me and stood with his back almost to the
wall. Going to the curtain I squinted out of the corner.

‘Is he still there?’ Greene asked.

‘Yep, come and see so you can be sure it
is who you think it is.’

‘No way. God only knows what kind of
sights he’s got on that gun.’

‘It was only a pistol I saw in his hand.
There was no rifle. None that I could see anyway.’  He was quiet again. I
watched him as his mind searched for answers. ‘How much do you want?’ he asked.

‘I’m not bargaining. I don’t want paid.
Just tell me who the hell Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid are, that’s all I
want to know.’

‘Why are you interested in who they are?
What’s it to you?’

‘What it is to me is that Alan Harle was
a friend of mine and I want to know why he was killed and who killed him. If I
don’t know in exactly two minutes I’m going out that door, you’re staying here
and you can take what’s coming from your visitors.’ Greene’s legs buckled
slowly and his back slid down the wall till he squatted on the floor then,
finally, sat. He stared at the ash-filled grate. ‘Harle was killed dealing in
drugs.’

‘What kind?’

‘Heroin.’

‘What kind of deals?’

‘Not the kind he wanted. He thought he was
the big shot, moving among the internationals, the heavyweights. Some big
shot.’

‘You still didn’t tell me what kind of
deals.’

‘He was trying to set something up with
those two guys but he tried to screw them and they found out ... Goodbye,
Alan.’

‘What was he trying to set-up?’

‘I don’t know, some deal or other.’

I was getting frustrated. ‘Look, you
keep talking about deals, do you have any details? Was he supplying heroin or
smuggling it into the country or out of the country or what?’

‘How the hell should I know?’

‘You must have some evidence?’

‘Look, give me a break, Malloy! I’m
telling you what I think was happening, my opinion, right?’

‘But without any evidence to back it up
... Your opinion’s not worth shit, Greene. I think you’re lying to try and get
yourself out of trouble.’

‘I don’t have to sit here and listen to
this garbage from you,’ he said.

‘Sure you don’t.’

I moved to the curtain and looked out
again. The sky was darkening. I walked through to the bedroom and heard Greene
scramble to his feet and call after me, ‘Where are you going?’

I came back in, zipping up my jacket. ‘I
told you, I’ve got business,’ I said, turning toward the door. ‘Good luck,
Phil.’

He grabbed my arm. ‘Wait!’ I turned to
face him. He loosened his grip. His eyes were tired, desperate. There was some
white matter in the corners of his mouth. We were close. His breath smelled
bad. ‘I’ll tell you all I know. It may not be any good to you but I promise
I’ll tell you what I know.’

I
made coffee. We sat down and Greene talked. ‘It was a kind of accident how I
found out Alan was into drugs. I was still doing my two at Roscoe’s at the
time. I was stacking bales in the hayloft one afternoon when I saw Alan come
out of the house and cross the yard to his car. He always parked it behind the
top block, out of sight of anyone in the yard. Anyway, I could see him from the
hayloft. He couldn’t or at least didn’t, see me.’

Greene rambled on at great length
filling in every detail down to how easily the veins showed in Harle’s arms as
he pumped up before an injection, but all it amounted to was that he knew Harle
was a junkie. He tried to embellish the dealing side.

‘One day I had a ride at Uttoxeter. Alan
had three so we travelled up together. Alan, as usual, hardly spoke a word on
the journey. Anyway, he had a fall on his last ride and came back in the
ambulance.

‘I rushed down to meet it and make sure
he was okay. Not that I was worried about him, I just wanted to make sure he
could drive so I could get back home okay. Anyway, he was alright. My ride was
in the last so he said to meet him in the car park afterwards.

‘Mine ran like a dog. When I’d showered
and changed I was one of the last out of the weighing room. It was getting dark
but the rain had stopped. I walked to the car park. Alan had a green Saab at
the time and he was standing beside it talking to two blokes, big guys. I mean,
most jockeys look small even next to your Mister Average and Alan was short
anyway but these guys made him look like a toddler. Alan nodded toward me as I
approached and they turned and looked at me. Then they said their last words to
Alan, walked over to a black Merc and drove off.

‘Alan was in the Saab by the time I
reached it. I got in but he didn’t speak. He looked kinda pale but his eyes
were bright. He set off, driving fast. I didn’t ask who the guys were. I knew
he wouldn’t tell me.

‘Back on the motorway he pulled in at
the first services and told me to get myself a coffee as he was just going to
the toilet. I got out and walked toward the cafeteria, but when I looked back I
saw Alan rummaging in the boot. He took something out and slipped it under his
jacket then he headed for the toilet.

‘As we drove back he started talking. He
said he’d be retiring from the saddle soon. He was going places, going into
business with his “Associates”.’

‘So you assumed he was dealing in drugs
with these two guys?’

‘Of course he was, what else could it
be?

‘It could have been a million things. Did
you hear the conversation with the two blokes?’

‘I didn’t but ...’

‘Did Harle ever say anything about
dealing?’

‘Well, no but…..’

‘Supposing he
was
dealing in
heroin, that might not have been why he was killed.’

‘Look, Mister, you asked me what I thought
and I told you, so gimme a break!’

He hadn’t told me everything, I was sure
of that, and I considered questioning him to try to catch him out. I could have
asked him about Roscoe and Kruger and Skinner but it was unlikely he’d tell me
anything and it would only alert them further once Greene blabbed. If they
believed I was just interested in Harle’s murder it might make things a bit
easier. ‘So you think the two guys in the car park killed him? I asked.

‘That’s my guess.’

‘What was the motive?’

Greene shrugged. ‘He must have
double-crossed them.’

‘How?’

‘How the hell should I know? I’m only
telling you what I think happened.’ He finished his coffee. It didn’t look like
he wanted to hear any more questions. Leaning forward he put the empty mug on
top of the old mantelpiece and held his head again. ‘You got an aspirin?’ he
asked.

I brought four from the kitchen with a
glass of water. He took them all at once and managed to keep them down. I
squatted to his level and took the glass off him. He looked at me, waiting for
me to speak. Spreading his palms upwards in an open ‘honest’ gesture he said,
‘Look, I’ve told you everything I know. Can you get rid of those guys outside?’

‘You haven’t told me why they’re after
you. You say you don’t know them. You say they killed Harle because he
double-crossed them ... what would they want with you?’

‘I don’t know, maybe they’re scared I’ll
talk, just like I’ve done to you.’

‘But if you didn’t actually see them
kill Alan then, as far as they’re concerned, you’d have nothing to talk about,
would you?’

He shrugged and tried the ‘honest’
gesture again. ‘Look, I don’t know why they’re here, maybe they think Alan told
me something about the deal they were setting up. Maybe they think I’ll go to
the police.’

I sat back and stared at him for a
while. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Okay.’ I went to the window again and looked out from
the side. I turned away and started pacing the worn rug behind the sofa, trying
to look like I was thinking hard. Greene was convinced. His anxious gaze
followed me. I let him stew a while then told him the plan.

‘My car’s parked right outside. Now, as
I walk out I’m within two steps of the driver’s door, though I can be seen
clearly from the woods. In the back seat I’ve got a long coat. Here’s what
happens. I go out, open the back door and pull out the coat. You’ll be standing
just inside this front door out of sight. As I straighten up, holding the coat,
I’ll swing it round onto my shoulders like a cape, turning to face you as I do
it. As the coat swirls round, you nip out and dive into the back seat. The coat
will cover you if you time it right. Then I’ll turn to the front door of the
house and lock it as if I’m locking you in. I’ll get in the car, you stay low
and I’ll drive us out.’

I stopped pacing and looked at him.
‘Okay?’

‘Sounds a bit risky to me.’

‘Would you rather stay here?’

His head dropped again and he went
silent. I walked back to the window, looked out and then turned to Greene.
‘Ready?’

‘Now?’

‘Best time. I don’t see either of them
at the moment.’

‘Okay.’ He looked scared.

We went through the routine and Greene
bolted into the car like a rat down a hole. ‘Drive, for fuck’s sake!’ he
yelped.

I accelerated away, wipers swishing, along
the edge of the wood, leaving it to the birds, the badgers and the foxes.

An hour later, I eased the car to a halt
in the lay-by next to the canal. Greene was still lying down in the back; he’d
been fretting about being followed. ‘You can come out now.’ I said.

‘Where are we?’ he asked, still prone.

‘Home. Back at your boat.’

‘Anything behind us?’

Most of your nerve if you ever had any,
I thought. ‘Nothing.’ I said.

They didn’t follow us?’

‘Nope.’

I heard the springs creak as he sat up. Daylight
showed the effects of the heavy night on his face and the tough morning he’d
put in.

‘You all right?’ I asked, not caring
what the answer was.

‘For now I am but I’ve just been
thinking, if they found me at your place, what’s to stop them finding me here?’

‘Nothing, I suppose.’

He frowned and ran his fingers through
his hair. ‘Do you think they could?’

‘They seem smart enough.’

‘Shit! I’d better start looking for
somewhere else ... I’d better tell Sk ...’ He stopped himself.

‘You’d better tell who?’

‘Nobody. Forget it.’ He got out. I
rolled the window down. ‘Who else is involved Phil?’

He turned away and started walking to
the boat. ‘What about
The Sporting Life
piece?’ I asked.

‘Cancel it,’ he called back. ‘I don’t
want it printed.’

‘I’ll save it then, it’ll make a good
obituary.’ I thought he was out of earshot but he faltered slightly before
stepping on the boat and disappearing through the green and yellow door.