“Villains. Criminals. That’s what those people are. . It’s about time someone levelled the balance, don’t you think?”
“Sometimes maybe. I don’t mind a few nasty people getting their comeuppance. But right now I just need you to help me find Dan Bradley. Believe me Simon, he’s nothing like you.”
“That’s it? You don’t want to get my autograph? You don’t want to marry me? You don’t want to become my sidekick?”
She wasn’t sure if he was joking. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, but his voice was so gruff and deadpan she really wasn’t sure. She played it straight back at him.
“I don’t want your autograph. No thanks. You’re ten years older than me, give or take. You look pretty good. I think you work out, but I’m not looking for a ring just yet. As for the sidekick thing. I don’t do capes and spandex and I don’t ever wear balaclavas. They are about as cool as snoods, in case you didn’t know.”
“Balaclavas are functional. Functional is versatile and camouflaging and helps stop me getting hurt. That’s pretty much all I care about.”
“You do work out, am I right?”
“Yes. Weights, cardio, suspension training. I train twice a day. I go to two different gyms.”
“Two. Have you got some kind of disorder? Eva thinks you have.” Jess gulped. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, but he didn’t complain.
“I need to be the fittest, fastest and strongest whenever I meet a threat. Does that sound like a disorder to you?”
“Frankly, yes. Why two gyms?”
“I don’t want to have social encounters in the gym. I don’t want to be friendly with people. I just want to work hard and get the job done.”
“Jeez. You really are a barrel of laughs.”
“I don’t have to be funny. I’m doing serious work.”
“All work no play…”
“Makes Jack the sharpest knife in the set.”
“This hero business. When did it start? And when’s it going to end? Why this town of all the bloody places? There are so many questions I need to ask.”
“Why not? Take a look around. Listen to your radio a little more. This town has gone to the dogs in a big way. I’m going to help bring it back.”
“You’re an activist.”
“No. I hate politics. Don’t trivialise what I’m doing…”
“Listen to you! Maybe you want me to call your agent next time, instead.”
Simon slapped the table, his face went rigid. He waited for the other people in McDonalds to resume their business before he spoke. He sipped his orange juice.
“No more questions. Tell me about your missing person.”
“Dan Bradley, age 30, maybe 31. An ex-boxer. Tall, but not that tall. Dark wiry hair, mostly worn on the short side. He works out. He’s slim and tough. Just a little bit more thickset than you.”
“That’ll be body fat then, not muscle.”
“I wouldn’t know. Anyway. He ended up taking some serious punishment from some very evil people in London last summer. They punished him and were going to kill him. He didn’t do anything wrong, but that’s a long story. Eva Roberts and Dan used to be a private detective double act, but they split up. Then after Eva rescued him from London...”
“She rescued him?”
“That’s what I said. After that, he wasn’t right. Even so he single-handedly smashed the UKFirst skinhead ring just before they lost the by-election. He was brutal but he would never have hit those people that hard before, not according to Eva. What happened to him in London worked a screw loose. He was panicky and edgy all the time. But he saved Will Burton’s son and got rid of our local fascist problem all by himself.
“Right. That’s right. I remember now. I saw Eva Roberts on television. But not that guy. He did that?”
“Absolutely. There was a confrontation at Southchurch Park. Right at the end of the fighting – and it was pure ultra-violence, no holds barred – he said goodbye to Eva. He knew the writing was on the wall. She was going to ask him to leave, to get some help. But before she had the chance tell him he beat her to it. He left, and we never saw him since. It’s been almost three weeks. Eva’s not been the same since either. The business is going to the wall slowly, but she was too choked up to do anything about it.”
“So your man went AWOL?”
“More like MIA. I tried to track him down already. I tried his bedsit on the seafront, but he’d moved out.”
Simon nodded. “Tall. Dark haired. An ex-private investigator, who is strong and violent. Hmmm. He sounds like a worthy competitor.”
“Hold it. He’s not a competitor. He’s going to provide the help we need.”
“Are you sure he’ll do that? It sounds like he’s gone to great lengths to stay invisible.”
“He is nothing like you, so stop right there.”
“He wants to be invisible. He has a healthy sense of right and wrong. He can fight and give scum like those skinheads the treatment they deserve. He sounds a little like me.”
“He’s got a sense of humour, he’s cocky, and he likes to have fun. Take out the cocky part and he’s nothing like you. Will you help me?”
“How good a private investigator are you, Jess?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to find out.”
Simon stood and downed his orange juice. He walked out of the door and walked slowly enough that Jess could catch up, though she wasn’t happy about having to run like an idiot. “I think I’ve got a superhero name for you….”
“If it’s an insult, save it. Where is the bedsit?”
“I tried there.”
“You said that already. Where is it?”
“It’s above the bookies near that tiny pub. You know the one.”
“I know it. A slum with a view.”
He still looked good But Jess was liking the man less and less as the seconds ticked by. She was even irritated that she found him attractive. He was old enough to be her uncle or something. They walked quickly.
Ten minutes later they arrived at the doors to the flats above the betting shop. Today was a brighter day, but it was still ice cold on the sea front. Jess pointed at the buzzer for Dan’s old place. Simon nodded and then pressed every other buzzer all around it and held them down for a time Afterwards he looked at the grime on his fingertips with disapproval, then pulled a small plastic pack of wipes from his pocket. As a few unhappy voices appeared over the intercoms while Simon wiped his hand. He waited a second then responded. “We’ve got money for you. Easy money if you come down and speak to us.”
Jess looked at him. “What? I’ve got thirty seven pounds and it was supposed to last me the whole week.”
“Then keep it. I lied.”
“Now who’s a villain?”
“Me? No way. If they buy a line like that, you know they’re crooks.”
“Or desperate.”
Two very different people emerged. One guy who looked South East Asian, with a black moustache and unkempt hair. He was wearing a work branded polo-T shirt which looked like he’d worn it all week. The T shirt bore the name of a cleaning company. Jess turned around to Simon and looked at him with an accusing eye.
“Do you know Dan Bradley?”
The Asian man shook his head. The other man was pale skinned European. He looked Portuguese and maybe had not seen the sun lately. He looked at them both with big tired eyes. He looked a little wild and wired. This man didn’t shake his head. Simon spoke to the Asian man. “No money for you. What about you, my friend. You seem less sure.”
The Asian man groaned, then disappeared into the dark stairwell.
“Dan Bradley? He doesn’t live here anymore.”
Simon moved so quickly Jess didn’t see it. He was in the man’s face, his forehead pressed up against the Portuguese’s face. The man looked scared and small in comparison.
“I told you. He’s gone.”
“No. You thought you told me. But you lied. So you
didn’t really tell me anything. This girl here can give you ten pounds if you give me the truth. If you don’t give me the truth, you get a broken nose. How’s that sound?”
There was a silent pause. “He comes here sometimes. But he doesn’t want anybody to know. No one. He threatened us too. The guy’s an arsehole, so what do I care…?”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. But I see him with bad people. Prostitutes. Bums. Scumbags.”
“Not fine upstanding people like yourself.”
The man shook his head before he caught the insult and frowned. “You want to tell me anything else?”
“I see him sometimes in York Road. Sometimes other places where the bums drink together.”
“You’ve served your purpose, friend. Go about your business.”
“What about the money?”
“For your protection, we’re going to keep it.”
“Hey you!”
“Don’t swear now. Think of your nose.”
Simon shoved the man into the dark stairwell, and pulled the door shut.
“Your detective skills need an upgrade. Dan Bradley is hanging with the street bums. He doesn’t sound too heroic to me. He sounds like he’s probably got enough problems of his own.”
Jess’s brain had gone thoughtful and hazy. She’d been impressed with Simon’s hard-nosed techniques, and now she was processing about Dan. “You just don’t know Dan. It’s easy to get lost and hide amongst the hobos. And Dan’s got experience of it. For a whole year he was lost among them. Back then it was against his will. Now it sounds like its voluntary.”
“Whatever you say. I’m intrigued now and we’ve got clues. So where are we going to try first?”
“York Road like the man said.”
“Come on. Let’s solve this riddle, then I need to get to the gym.”
Time was ticking by too fast for Jess’s comfort. By late afternoon they patrolled the length of York Road. The homeless centre and night shelter had recently moved into the area. Eva ran up to the door of the new homeless building and poked her head into the pristine whiteness within. The clean white interior reminded her of 1970s TV science fiction, too pristine and minimalist with no dirt. A big shabby man in a torn blue Parka coat with a huge grey beard and a hat sat by the reception. The beard seemed to start where the hat finished. There was a girl at reception, she saw Jess. She was her own age, maybe younger.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Dan Bradley. Does he come in here?
“Is he homeless?”
“Um. No.”
“Then he can’t come in here. Is he missing?”
“Kind of. He hangs around with homeless people.”
“Is he one of the street drinkers?”
“Maybe.”
“Try The Refuge. They take anyone in there. It’s up on the Kingsmere Estate.” Jess knew it well.
“Is it open?”
The girl looked at her watch.
“It’s closing soon, but it’s worth a look I’d say.”
Jess smiled at the girl and made her exit. Simon was standing at the foot of the stairs out in the cold, bright day. In many ways he looked like one of the vagrants. Stubble, bordering on a beard, his dark utility clothing and a skull-hugging black woollen hat, with a back pack on his back. If he rolled on the floor a few times he could have been one of the crowd. “We need to go up the road to The Refuge. He could be there.”
“The Refuge?”
“It’s a kind of food bank and soup kitchen. Eva and Dan got involved in some dirty work up there last summer. He might be up there, but they’ll be closing up around now.”
“Then let’s move.”
The tower blocks of the estate were simply huge when seen up close. The estate would have been intimidating for most people from out of the town, but when The Refuge was open it was like someone had opened a portal to another dimension and let in some very strange characters. Most were loud. Some were scary. Some were just plain weird. Today around thirty people were milling around nosily in the swirling winds which perpetually buzzed between the tower blocks. They were poor looking folk in well-worn clothes of all styles and none. Most were men, but some were women. Most of them were swaying around like they’d were at sea in rough weather.
“I told you this town was going to the dogs. By the look of this place I’d say it’s already there.”
“But at least the people in there are trying to help.”
“Help? Is that what you call this?”
It wasn’t the time for an argument, and Jess saw his point in part. Most of the guys outside were high or drunk. Did that mean they didn’t deserve food to eat? But now wasn’t the time for an argument. Now was the time to find Dan Bradley.
Jess strolled up to the door, which was open and full of lively banter between tired looking staff and colourful people who were leaving slowly.
“Sorry. We’re closed,” said the guy on the door. Jess was a little insulted, but she kept quiet about it. Yeah, she supposed she looked pretty colourful too.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Yeah?” said the man on reception. “What’s his name?”
“Dan Bradley.”
Without checking the guy on the door shook his head. “No. He’s not been in.”
“Can you check your computer or something?”
“This piece of junk? I may as well read the tea leaves. No. I know them all by name and face. Dan Bradley hasn’t been in.”
Jess wasn’t happy. She wandered up to the bulb end of the building where she knew the café was. She got on tip-toe to peer through the head-height windows, but she was just too short. Simon peered through, tutted and shook his head. Jess walked back to the man on the door.
“How long have you worked here?”
“A couple of months. We’re closed and that’s it. I’m telling you the truth.”
“That’s not why I asked. Do you know any tall thin guys with dark hair and leather jackets?”
“Only about a hundred of them, give or take another hundred. Do you know many people we feed?”
“Right. Thanks for all your considerable help.”
“No problem.” There was no irony in the guy’s answer. Or maybe there was and he was a master of subtlety. Who knew? Jess walked up to Simon.
“We need to wait. We tried the other place, and he wasn’t there. This place is open to all comers, and from the look of it, they’re slow to move on. He could still be in there.”
“Here’s as good as anywhere to waste our time,” said Simon.
Jess had her fill of cynics. They waited as the guy on the door led group after group of men and women out into the crisp day. He looked at Jess each time, but didn’t say anything. As Jess’s fingers began to turn from white to pale blue, and Simon began to look antsy, the door guy brought out the last few. A woman with Peroxide blonde hair in a black bomber jacket was followed by a dumpy old man with a big pillar-box red wig on. They were laughing together. The woman caught Jess’s eye. It took a few seconds, and then the name came to her. It was Laura. Laura glanced at her, but said nothing at all. Jess let it go. The Refuge door began to shut, and Jess’s heart fell. Then the door opened quickly, and another man walked out. He was tall, with closely cropped dark hair and wore a dark grey raincoat. He turned as he came out gave the man on the door a thumbs up.
“See you soon Craig,” said the doorman, and the door was closed and locked. Craig looked up and met Jess’s eye. Craig’s face changed from distracted amusement to seriousness and dissatisfaction. The man called Craig was none other than Dan Bradley. He stopped in his tracks. It was plain to see that Dan Bradley was trying not to be Dan Bradley any more. Jess wanted to know why. And even more than that, she wanted to know if they could get him back. But before she could ask him, she noticed Simon swoop between them, blocking Dan from view. Simon moved up toward him and inspected him like a man gazing at a painting in an art gallery. Jess did
n’t know much about Dan anymore, but she knew Dan Bradley was not going to like that one bit.
Twenty-two
“It was only a matter of time, I guess. Jess, who is this moron?” she heard from across Simon’s shoulder. Simon was moving left to right, left to right. She could hear Dan moving, and Simon was blocking her.
“Who are you?” asked Dan.
“Is this Dan Bradley Jess?” asked Simon.
“Yes, give him space please.”
Simon stood to one side. Dan took a step towards him, giving him a hard eye. Simon didn’t seem intimidated. If anything there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. These boys were both too full of aggression for their own good. Dan walked up close to Jess, close enough that most of what he said would be lost to most people standing as far away as Simon.
“I know you’ve been trying to track me down. So, who is this dickhead?”
“I can’t tell you yet. I’ll tell you later. How did you know?
“You visited my flat. But I’ve been keeping an eye on you both. Just for peace of mind. So what the hell are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. Your new image… it suits you, kind of.” He had cropped hair like Simon, but no swarthy beard. Yes, she liked the cropped look… on both of them.
“I’m moving on, Jess. In my own way. I lived with these people for a year, remember. Eva doesn’t need my help, but these guys, I can help these people. They haven’t got anyone to stick up for them. Not anyone who gives a shit, anyway. And round here I’m called Craig now. I’m moving on.”
“You’re not moving on, Dan. You’re regressing. You got out of that hole you were in, remember?”
“No. You and Eva didn’t need me anymore. I saw that. I saved her the job of telling me, was all. Besides, of all people, I really didn’t expect you to follow me. You wanted me out most of all.”
“Time’s a funny thing, Dan.”
“What are you talking about? It’s been no more than three weeks, Jess.”
“The agency was in a mess before you left Dan. You must have known that. But it’s far worse now. Eva’s made a terrible mistake and she’s in danger.”
Better the Devil Page 16