by Peter Bates
“Did we get plenty of photos?” asked Terry.
“More than enough,” replied Reg. “Probably even enough to put them away if we had been in uniform, but not necessarily so. You know what it’s like these days. Even if they were caught dealing today, they’d more than likely get a good telling off from the judge, and do six months community service. The lawmakers should also bring back hanging for what happened to those kids recently, and a minimum served ten-year sentence for drug peddling. And another thing while I’m at it, time off for good behaviour is farcical. There should be time added on for not behaving, not the other way around. I still think that was Thomas’ mob that killed those young kids. Whoever it was that did that certainly has no right to life. And by the way, Harrison won’t be happy with what happened today either, especially if he finds out that it was Thomas that nicked the stuff that they’ve just sold on. Who knows though, maybe if we’re really clever, we could organise some good old-fashioned justice ourselves?”
“What do you mean?” asked Roy.
“I’m not sure just yet, Roy. At the moment I’m just toying with a few ideas.”
“Well, mate. When you do, let us know. Four old, wise heads are far better than one.”
*
Mel Harrison stretched out his long legs beneath the wooden table and grinned at Bob, Alan, Gary and Kenny, as they mirrored his expression. The sky was blue, the sun was shining brightly, and a large bag lay beneath the centre of the table.
“Good day, lads,” he finally said loudly. “Job’s done and we’ll put a whole pile of readies in the kitty when we sell it on.”
“You’re not kidding, boss,” laughed Alan. “I might just place a few bets on the gee gees tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” agreed Mel. “More easy money. Very easy in fact.”
“Tell you what, lads, I’ll even get the beers in.”
Harrison rose quickly to his feet and with a huge smile on his face, turned towards the bar. Walking jauntily, the gang leader was halfway there when the mobile phone in his jacket pocket began to buzz. The big man halted in mid-stride, just short of the bar, wondering for a moment whether to take the call or not to bother, before finally pressing the phone tightly to his ear and clicking the receive button. The large smile on his face disappeared quickly as he listened intently to the message, and after a few more seconds he rapidly moved to the pub’s entrance door and left the building, moving to the deserted area outside.
“What was all that about?” questioned Kenny, looking puzzled.
“No idea, mate,” said Alan quietly. “Maybe it’s a domestic problem or something like that,”
“I guess we’ll soon find out,” added Bob, under his breath.
Harrison walked back in as Bob completed his comment, his face visibly reddening, his teeth clenched, and intense anger in his eyes. No longer using his phone, he stamped across the room to the table, sat down sharply in his chair, spread out the fingers of both hands side by side on the table top, and finally stared upwards, as though searching into space.
Bob, Alan and Kenny remained silent. Silence would be a whole lot safer than speaking and saying the wrong thing right now. Harrison waited at least thirty seconds before he eventually opened his mouth to speak.
“Bastards.” he finally uttered angrily.
Bob flashed a quick glance at Alan and Kenny. Was Harrison referring to him and the other two lads? He didn’t know right now, and it certainly wouldn’t be him that asked the question out loud. Better to wait and see.
Slowly, Harrison finally lowered his angry eyes from the ceiling, lifting his hands from the table at the same time and placing one on each knee.
“That was our drop off man, the guy that I made the exchange with in the services car park. You wouldn’t believe it, but after we left the area, the guy was held up by a bloke with a shooter in the car park. He tells me that he had to hand over all the powder in his bag. I can tell you right now that he’s not pleased. He seems to think that it was us that organised it, and says that if he doesn’t get his money or the powder back, he’ll not be dealing with us again. He also said that his bosses from down south might well come after us when he tells them what has happened.”
Bob again glanced at Alan and Kenny. They both seemed as surprised as he was.
“He must know that it wasn’t us. We left as soon as we’d done the exchange. He must have seen us leave, and in any case, surely he would have recognised us even if it was us.”
“I dunno,” answered Harrison. “Maybe he didn’t watch us leave, or he thinks that we got someone else to do it. Either way, we know for certain that it wasn’t us, and he thinks that it was.”
“I think that maybe there’s another and more likely answer to this,” grunted Harrison.
“What’s that?” questioned Bob.
“Thomas.”
“Hell fire.” yelled Kenny. “How would he have known about the drop off and where it would be?”
“I dunno, but I think that somehow you could be right,” nodded Bob in agreement.
“Maybe they followed us,” added Mel Harrison. “I don’t know how they could have found out about the drop taking place, but possibly they were just following us and got very lucky.”
“That is a possibility,” agreed Bob. “I can’t think of anyone else that would have done it, or would have even dared to follow us and then try to pull that off.”
“It’s a damn pity there were no cameras on that bit of ground,” commented Kenny.
“That’s exactly why we chose it, plus we could get a really fast getaway, and did do,” added Bob.
Harrison nodded his head thoughtfully and then spoke firmly. “The more that I think of it, the more I’m inclined to think that it was Thomas’ crew. As far as we know, they don’t normally do drugs, so if it was them, they would have to find a way of shifting it. If they do that, they will surely leave some sort of a trail behind them. We need to make a few phone calls to our powder contacts and ask them to keep an eye out in the market. In the meantime, Kenny, get in touch with the supplier and arrange a meeting for him to collect a refund of his bag of money. Tell him that it was not us. His bosses are major players in this business, and we have enough problems with Thomas on our doorstep, without adding even more to that. If we don’t pay the guy back, and do it quickly, we’ll be blacklisted for certain, and we would probably be placed on their hit list as well.”
CHAPTER 19
“Have you had a good day, my love? You don’t seem so very happy this evening.”
Mel Harrison forced a bleak smile. “You could say that, Sarah. I’ve had better days.”
“What have you been up to then?”
Harrison glanced at her before he spoke. “Oh, just the usual stuff. You know, buying this and selling that.”
“You must be a very busy man. We’ve been together for a couple of months now, and you always seem to be working.”
“Well, a man’s got to make a living. I didn’t get this place for free, and it costs more than a few quid to run.”
“The house is beautiful, Mel. I’ve been very lucky to find a man like you to spend my time with. Mind you, your time with me seems to be very limited recently.”
“That’s how it goes, Sarah. I have to get the right stuff, and sell it at the best price I can. Most of the time that means I have to work very hard and travel about a bit.”
“Maybe I could come with you sometimes.”
Harrison looked into Sarah’s eyes and quickly checked a potentially angry response, his mind suddenly working overtime for the best answer to the girl’s suggestion. He wouldn’t be with her forever, but for now she was a very handy distraction, exceptionally good looking, and excellent in bed too.
“You wouldn’t like it, Sarah. It’s horrible, really. The people that I deal with are not always very pleasant and I have to drive some very hard bargains to get a good result. I never know from one day to the next where I’ll be, and some of the places that I go to
are not fit for you to be in.”
Harrison smiled inwardly as he spoke the words, his eyes still fixed on hers. Sarah really didn’t have a clue about what his work really entailed, and she never would do. If she persisted along this line though, he did know that she would be gone, good looking or not. She’d also get a good slapping in the bargain to send her well on her way. There were plenty of others like her around to fill the space that she left. He might not be the best-looking guy on the block, but he had more cash to spend than anyone this woman had ever come across in the town, and that seemed to work on the ladies much more successfully than just being handsome and a nice bloke.
Sarah turned away slowly, moved to the large antique mirror hanging in the centre of the lounge wall, and began to casually comb her long blonde hair. Even in the short time that she’d been with this man, she knew better than to argue with him. She knew for certain that she would be gone from this place at some time in the future, but it would be far better if she could choose for herself the right time to go. In the meantime, she would put up with the way that he often spoke to her, and carry on building up her expensive jewellery collection as the time passed by.
“Will you be in for tea tonight, love?” she asked, still combing her hair, and putting on a large smile for him, as she finally turned slowly away from the mirror.
“No. I’ve got a business meeting tonight at six o’clock with some of my colleagues.”
Inwardly, Sarah was pleased. In his present mood he wouldn’t be the best of company, and she would be on edge whatever they did. He’d done bad things to her in the past and she didn’t want to sample his violence any more. Her body still bore the bruise marks of his last enraged attack, and she dreaded the next one.
Just go along with what he’s said, she told herself inwardly.
“OK, Mel. Do you want me to make something nice for when you get back home later?”
“No. I don’t know at the moment when that will be. If you get lucky, we might even eat out after the meeting has finished, it all depends on how well it all goes.”
*
At five past six o’clock, Mel Harrison pulled on the handbrake of the BMW, quickly scanned all sides of the car park from sheer force of habit, then opened the door and stepped outside the vehicle. Out of habit also, his right hand gripped the loaded revolver inside his jacket pocket, the index finger curled loosely around the trigger. Seeing no obvious sign of any problems, he strode quickly to the front door of the Rose and Crown, and pushed it open. Bob, Alan, Gary and Kenny were already seated at their usual and preferred table. Harrison released his grip on the revolver, letting it slide down to the bottom of the deep pocket of his jacket, and strolled across the well-worn carpet to join his men.
“Hi boys. How’re you doing?”
“We’re all good,” answered Alan, noticing immediately Harrison’s tightly drawn face as he pointed at the same time to a vacant seat that faced the entrance door.
“I see that you’ve already got yours in,” muttered Harrison drily, pointing at four full pint glasses set out on the table top.
“We have, boss. But what do you want?” asked Bob, at the same time also taking note of Harrison’s seemingly irritated facial expression. He rose quickly to his feet as he asked the question.
“A pint of Guinness,” came the short response. “I might just have a couple of large whiskies later.”
Bob strolled straight-faced to the bar as Harrison took the empty chair, glad to be at least temporarily away from the initial exchange around the table. A normal Harrison was bad enough, but when this man was angry, as he seemed to be today, he could also be extremely dangerous and vicious. Bob was unusually pleased to see that there was a queue of three people ahead of him, and this was one occasion that he wouldn’t push his way in to the front. Maybe if he really took his time at the bar, the boss would have calmed down by the time that he returned to the table.
When Bob did return to the table after almost ten minutes had passed by, he could see that nothing had changed in Harrison’s demeanour. The man was still grim faced, and now thumping his fist on the table’s surface as he gruffly spoke to the three other men seated silently around it. Bob inwardly sighed and carefully placed the first glass in front of Harrison before doing the same for the others, and then finally positioned the last one for himself.
Not risking even a slight glance at any of the others, he sat down, picked up his own drink, and remained quiet, staring blankly at the table top.
“I’ll tell you lads one thing. That bastard’s not going to get away with it this time. He’s picked on the wrong ones. Harrison’s crew doesn’t lie down that easy.”
“Sorry, boss,” Bob spoke carefully, “but I missed the conversation while I was at the bar. Could you by any chance be talking about that pillock, Jed Thomas?”
“I certainly was, Bob. First it was the kids — we’re almost sure it was them — and then it was nicking the powder. We can’t just let it go without some sort of serious retribution.”
“I agree,” nodded Gary. “Who else would it be? No one else would have risked something like that, and our related kids being knocked off was too much of a coincidence to ignore. It’s just got to be them.”
“We need to work out some sort of plan,” joined in Kenny for the first time, taking his first sip of the cool beer.
“Yeah, Kenny, and it’s got to be a good one. There’s no way I’m doing time for messing those buggers up. This problem may take some time to sort out, but sort it out we certainly will.”
CHAPTER 20
“That one will do,” said Phil Dobson in a broad cockney accent, pointing a finger a little further along the road at a small public house, a couple of streets inland from the promenade. The Parrot and Palm Tree was one of the smaller pubs in the area that he’d seen so far, and right now, until he and the lads knew their way around, small and not particularly busy would be ideal. With some luck and good decision making from him, that would change fairly soon. His four young friends nodded their heads and followed him across the road to the pub’s entrance door.
“Wait here a sec, lads. I’ll just check it out first.”
Phil pushed open the painted and semi-glazed door and stepped a few feet into the main saloon. Twenty seconds of scanning the inside layout closely confirmed in his mind that this was a place that seemed to tick most of the boxes, and after a few more moments he beckoned the other lads in through the doorway.
“This’ll definitely do, lads. At least for now, until we get to know the area a bit better.”
Phil took a place at a large, six-seater table close to one of the side walls, with his back to the yellow painted plaster surface, and signalled to one of his four followers.
“Get ’em in, Bart. Let’s see what the northern booze is like.”
Bart nodded his head, moving purposefully towards the bar, whilst Matt, Charlie and Bill each took seats at the table.
“What do you think, lads?” asked Phil.
“It doesn’t seem like most of the others,” commented Charlie, glancing around the average sized saloon and quickly taking in the detail of its layout as he spoke.
“No, mate. It’s certainly not as big,” added Bill.
“More important, it’s not as busy,” pointed out Phil. “It seems ideal for what we need, and we’re not going to attract any attention that we don’t want. Some of the other places, especially those on the promenade, are very big and not what we want right now. What do you think, Matt?”
Matt, the youngest of the group at eighteen, and the most recent member of the group, was not going to dispute Phil’s choice.
“It’s spot-on, Phil. Absolutely perfect. The pubs round here are definitely a lot different to those we’re used to in the big smoke.”
“It’ll all be cheaper, too,” agreed Charlie. “From what I’ve seen so far, everything’s cheaper here.”
“You’re not kidding.” exclaimed Phil. “That tasty house I bought he
re last week was at least fifty percent cheaper than the one I bought back home last year, and it’s a damn sight bigger too.”
Matt laughed. “Well, us lads all bought flats, and I’d say they were about a third of what we would have paid back home. It’s not as crowded around here either.”
“Another thing,” remarked Bart, catching the conversation as he arrived back at the table, steadily carrying a tray of five full glasses. “From what I’ve seen so far, there aren’t coppers on every corner either. I’ve scarcely seen one since we arrived here.”
“You’re right, mate. That’s another big plus. I think that we’re going to like it here in Blackpool very much.”
Phil leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and crossed his blue jeans clad legs. After a moment, he moved one arm from his chest and pointed a finger at his red and white T-shirt. “I’ll be missing the Gunners though,” he said with a grin, before continuing with a smile on his face. “We’ll take at least a few days weighing the place up in a bit more detail, and then we’ll start to do a bit of work. It would be good if we could dig up some useful info on who’s operating around here, and how big they are. I did some time with a bloke from round here. I think I’ll look him up and check out the score. I’m sure that I’ve got his number somewhere in my phone. Whatever’s going on here, I don’t think it could be that much. The northerners don’t have half the brains that we have in the big smoke. So, if there are any gangs here, they’ll be in for a very big surprise.”
