by Peter Bates
“You’re getting the hang of this now, Roy,” laughed Reg, as he opened his own pages and held them up in front of his eyes.
“I had a good teacher,” grinned Roy.
The pub door opened slowly, and Mel Harrison walked in, half turning his body as he quietly spoke to the four men that were closely following him into the building.
“I’ll get them in, lads,” he stated with a big smile on his face, raising his voice a little at the same time as he reached a large empty table, and then hung his jacket on a chair back.
The five young men behind him waited until Harrison had turned his head away from them and towards the bar, then grinned broadly and raised their eyes, before sitting at the table.
“They look pleased with themselves,” whispered Roy, his own eyes apparently still fixed on his newspaper.
“Yes,” agreed Frank. “And he normally doesn’t get the beers in, either. I think he must be celebrating.”
“I’ll go along with that,” added Terry. “The bugger has usually got a face as long as a fiddle.”
Harrison quickly returned to the table, his expression still unusually pleasant, and one at a time, placed a full beer glass directly opposite each of his gang members.
“Here’s to us!” he said loudly, lifting his glass from the tabletop and tilting it to the others.
“And here’s to Jed Thomas!” laughed the tallest of the young men, raising his glass again.
Harrison placed his glass on the tabletop and glanced around him. The pub wasn’t busy — a few punters scattered around the place, a few harmless old buggers sat at a nearby table.
“Shut your mouth, you stupid pillock. I’ve told you before Gary, about closing your big mouth. Keep it shut.”
“Sorry, boss.”
“You will be, if I hear stuff like that again in public.”
Terry, his eyes fixed on an area of the saloon well away from Harrison’s table, muttered quietly. “If ever you wanted proof, that just about confirms it, I’d say.”
“You’re right,” nodded Roy, “but I’m going to wait for Reg to come back from Thomas’ house a little later. We’d look a bit stupid if it turned out that he was there after all. Don’t forget that we’re still only working on likelihoods and assumptions right now.”
“I’d better go,” nodded Reg, looking at his watch. “If he’s not there now, especially after what has just been said, I think that it’s perfectly reasonable to assume that the worst has happened.”
CHAPTER 62
Reg arrived back at the Pilgrim’s Arms in a little less than twenty minutes. His face was grim as he took his place at the table, but waited a few moments, and then took a large gulp of his beer. He had already quietly noted that Harrison and his four gang members were still in the saloon area, clearly in very good humour, and now on their next round of drinks.
Reg waited for several minutes before speaking, his eyes flickering to and fro from his own table to that of Harrison’s. When he finally spoke, it was very quietly, and with a flat voice.
“No sign of him, lads, and there are a couple of envelopes protruding from his obviously full letterbox. I think that it’s fairly safe to assume that he’s not coming back, especially after we heard the lad called Gary toasting him earlier in the pub.”
“It sure looks like it, Reg.” confirmed Roy.
“Well, it’s not one hundred percent,” added Frank, “but it’s extremely close to that. If you add up everything we’ve heard and seen, it’s a virtual certainty that J.T and the others are already underground.”
“What’s next then?” asked Terry.
“I’m not really sure,” answered Reg in a hushed voice. “We’re almost certain, and if we were absolutely sure, I’d be ringing Norman Pendleton right now. Maybe we should just give it a bit longer, and if there are still no signs of Thomas anywhere, we’ll make the call. What do you think, Frank?”
“I’m with you, Reg,” whispered Frank. “We don’t want to send Norman on a wild goose chase and risk losing his help in the future. If Thomas and his crew are dead, they’re going to stay dead. Don’t forget that I have the tracker which has recorded the car’s whereabouts, so if a crime has been committed, we’ll have a good idea of the area that it took place in. I can’t really see it being more than a few hundred yards from where the car was parked up. Let’s give it just a little bit longer. If they are all dead, as we suspect, the bodies won’t be moving anywhere now, that’s for sure.”
*
“That was a damned good job, lads. It’s a pity that we didn’t do it ages ago, but at least it’s now done, and nobody will ever find those buggers.”
“Thanks, boss. I think we did OK, too,” smiled Kenny.
Alan nodded his head in agreement, then added, “We did do well, lads, but it’s what we do next that really matters.”
“How do you mean?” asked Bob, leaning forward in his seat as he asked the question of Alan.
“I know what he means,” interjected Harrison. “He means that our competitor is now out of the picture, and there are a large number of spaces that he’s left behind that we should now be filling. We need to get around the places where he was drawing in protection and let them know that we’ve taken that side of his business over. We’ve got a free hand now. We can do what we want, whenever we want. There’s absolutely nothing to stop us at all. A few more years of this, and we could even hang our boots up. We’ll all have more than enough dosh to call it a day.”
“Do we really know which pubs and businesses he was drawing from?” asked Kenny.
“Some, but not all. The lads out on the street will have a good idea though, so we’ll give them a decent bung and they’ll be talking their heads off in no time at all.”
“Is it that easy?” asked Gary, surprise etched across his face.
“It really is, mate. They don’t want any hassle, especially from us, and giving them a few quid as well always tilts the balance. None of them will ever know for sure that we wiped out Jed Thomas’ crew, but they’ll all have a very good idea that we have done it after the gang’s sudden disappearance. If they don’t behave, they’ll also know that they could be easily be the next name on our hit list.”
Gary leaned forward and gently tapped Mel Harrison’s hand. It was a good time to get some brownie points.
“Bloody hell, boss. You’re amazing!”
“Well, Gary, I do my best.”
“You always do, Mel,” added Alan, “but I have another question for you just in case anyone asks us something whilst we’re out and about town.”
“What’s that?”
“How do we convince the protection payers that Jed Thomas is out of the picture without us giving anything away about what has really happened to him and his crew?”
“Good question,” agreed Harrison. “We’ll just tell them that we’ve had reliable information from the grapevine that Thomas has upped sticks and moved somewhere down south.”
“Do you think that they’ll believe us?”
“For certain, Alan. The man’s nowhere to be seen, and we know that he won’t ever be. Some people might just wonder for a week or so if he really has gone, but after that, they’ll realise that we’re right when he’s stopped knocking on their doors. If Thomas was still around town, there’s no way he would miss out on his protection money. In any case, Alan, it’ll probably be at least another week or more before we get together a full list of his payers, and start up the collections. There’s no rush after all, especially since we picked up that big sack of cash in the wood. We’re not exactly skint anyway.”
CHAPTER 63
“Let’s go,” muttered Frank, his hand brushing softly across his mouth as he spoke.
“Now?” asked Terry, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Yes,” said Frank, rising casually to his feet, and putting on his cap.
Terry glanced at Roy and Reg. Both men were slowly rising from their chairs, their eyes firmly fixed on those of Fra
nk.
Without any change to his facial expression, Terry shrugged his shoulders, and stood up. He waited patiently to speak again until all four men were outside the pub’s entrance doors, and had moved several yards along the street and into a shop doorway.
“What was all that about?” he asked of Frank.
“I think it was time to leave. Even though we were in there first, we could be in danger of overdoing it. The more we get noticed, the more we are going to stand out.”
“We might have heard something useful.”
“We did, Terry. I certainly heard a few snippets about protection money. It’s clear to me that if Thomas is out of the way, they’ll be chasing down his ex-customers.”
“We don’t even know for sure that Thomas is out of the way. We just think he is, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s a good bet that he is, Terry. Everything points to that. In fact, I really think that we should get into the cars right now and go and look for him and his men. We’ve nothing at all to lose, and a hell of a lot to gain.”
“What do you think, Reg? Should we go and search for Thomas, or should we phone up Norman Pendleton and tell him what we know?”
“Well, we’ve no hard evidence to give to Norman. All we’ve got is what we’ve worked out or overheard. I think that Frank has got a point, and we have the experience to know what to look for in a situation like this one. If we do actually find Thomas, there has to be enough evidence around that area to nail Harrison. We can already at least prove that Harrison was close to the scene of the crimes.”
Roy shook his head. “I’m not absolutely sure that we should be doing this, but I think that I’m outvoted on this one, so we will do it. We must be double sure that we don’t disturb any evidence, and doing that in itself is going to make our search a lot more difficult.”
“OK, Roy,” nodded Frank. “You’re perfectly correct. We mustn’t mess up any evidence, and we certainly can’t start digging around the area. Let’s just look around, and see if we can spot anything untoward. If we find nothing, we’ve lost nothing. On the other hand…” Frank stopped speaking, then smiled and opened both of his hands wide and in front of his body.
“Have you got the coordinates, Frank?” grinned Reg.
Frank pulled his phone from a jacket pocket and switched it on. He quickly pressed several buttons, turned it around, and then held it out towards Reg.
“I should have known,” laughed Reg. “Come on, lads. Let’s get into the cars. There’s still enough light for us to make a start.”
“Before we go,” said Roy, feeling inside his jacket pocket as he spoke, “have we all got cameras?”
“Of course, we have,” nodded Terry. “These days everyone’s got cameras on their phones. As long as they’re all charged up, we can take plenty of pics, and then use whatever we need later on.”
“I’d better go in Reg’s car,” said Frank. “Roy can travel in Terry’s,” he added. “We’ll lead the way there and we’ll park up at the exact spot that Harrison chose to park. When we get there, don’t start looking until we’re all together — we’ll need to make some sort of plan to follow. By the way, has anyone got any Sellotape?”
“I’ve got a big roll, in my car,” offered Terry. “What do you want Sellotape for anyway?”
“Well, if we can stick a small piece of paper to some of the tree trunks as we pass through the wood, we’ll know exactly where we have been and therefore any area also that we haven’t yet covered. If we don’t do that it could easily become a nightmare, particularly if it’s a dense wood, which it’s very likely to be. Mel Harrison certainly wouldn’t choose to put any bodies in a place where they could easily be seen by passers-by.”
“Good thinking, Frank.”
“Cheers, Terry, and while I’m at it, I don’t think that the first fifteen to twenty yards of the wood will yield anything either, for all of the same reasons. I think that it will be much deeper into the wood, and possibly away from any obvious walking tracks.”
“Agreed.” nodded Reg. “It looks like our Franky is on the ball today, lads. Let’s hope that he keeps up his run.”
*
“Is this the spot, Frank?”
“Dead on it, Reg.”
Frank face turned serious for a moment, then he added, “Perhaps those weren’t the words that I should have used.”
“Never mind, my friend. I know exactly what you meant.”
Reg turned at the sound of car doors clicking shut. A few seconds later, Roy and Terry were standing at his side, each of them staring intently along the edges of the wood. After a few seconds, Terry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out four half rolls of Sellotape and four A4 sheets of white paper. He then handed one to each of his friends.
“I sliced the two rolls into four halves, lads, so there’s plenty to go around, and being cut straight through the middle, they’re easy to use.”
Terry then turned to face Frank. “How should we go from here, mate?”
“First of all, let’s just fan out just a little and check the undergrowth nearest to the trees for tracks, footprints, or any obvious clear spaces that they could have used to enter. Try your very best not to leave any of your own footprints, so avoid the soft or muddy bits and try to stick to harder ground if you can. Fasten a very small spot of paper to a tree every few yards so we know exactly what routes we’ve covered. If anyone sees anything at all that could be a clue, call the others over to where you are after you’ve marked your progress with a piece of paper. Is everyone happy with that, or do you think I’ve missed anything?”
“Well, we’ve no guarantees, Frank,” added Roy, “but that’s about as good a plan as we’re going to get. As we said earlier, we’ve nothing to lose, and maybe a hell of a lot to gain. I suggest that we try to keep no more than ten feet apart whilst we’re walking so that we shouldn’t miss anything as we go along.”
Roy glanced with pleasure at each of the three faces. Apart from the wrinkles, this was just like old times.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Spreading apart by no more than six feet, the four elderly men entered the wood at the nearest point to where the tracker had placed Mel Harrison’s parked car.
Frank spoke up immediately.
“There’s a definite path here, lads. It’s narrow but it’s certainly a walker’s track.”
Roy moved to Frank’s side and stared at the path.
“He’s right, lads,” he said, turning to Reg and Terry. “And another thing — if you look at how dense this wood is, you’d have a job getting through it in any sort of straight line. At least for a starter, I think that we should follow this track and see where it leads us. If Harrison somehow did trick Thomas into the wood, it would make sense that he used a route directly from where his car was parked to wherever the attack would take place. Let’s at least start by going along here, but stay on one side of the path rather than on it. That way, we’ll avoid spoiling any tracks or footprints that they may have left.”
“Good thinking,” added Terry. “We’ll go very slowly and in single file, wide enough so that we can keep an eye on things both sides of the path. If we see anything unusual, we can snap off a few photos.”
After ten minutes of very slow walking, the four men, led by Terry, came to a sudden halt as he stopped in his tracks.
“What’s up, Terry,” asked Frank.
“I’m not sure, Frank, but if you look straight ahead about twenty-five yards or so, you’ll see a very large and extremely old oak tree with a severely weather beaten and ancient plaque on its trunk. If you were planning a meeting in the middle of nowhere, that tree is exactly the type of marker you’d be looking for.”
“I agree.” said Reg, staring over Terry’s shoulder at the very distinctive tree and nodding his head.
“Keep looking as we go, lads, but that’s where we’re heading. If it’s no good, we’ll just keep at it until we find something.”
Twenty seconds later,
Terry had slowed down to a virtual standstill, just fifteen feet short of the tree. He waited until the other three were alongside him.
“You’d better get your cameras out, lads. Take a picture of the tree, then you’d better take some of the ground around its base. There are shoeprints everywhere. They could be anybody’s, but they could also be crucial. Take them as close as you can, but don’t stand on any whatever you do.”
Terry glanced around him at several clumps of large rhododendron bushes close by, and walking carefully on the grassiest areas, slowly moved to the nearest ones. He was halfway around the biggest bush when he stopped in his tracks, and stared at the ground beneath it.
“Bingo!” he yelled.
His three friends twisted their heads sharply in his direction, surprise written over each face.
“Take a very circular route, lads, but get yourselves over here right now!”
“What’s up, mate?” asked Frank, arriving first at his side.
Terry waited another three or four seconds before the others were standing next to him. “Look at that, lads.”
Terry’s arm was outstretched, his index finger pointing to a spot of ground under the edge of the bush.
“Bloody hell.” yelled Reg, bending closer. “Well done, Terry. That’s a spent shell case!”
“It sure is,” agreed Roy. “And there’s another one there,” he said, pointing his own finger seven or eight feet away, close to the base of a smaller bush.”
“Shall we pick them up?” asked Frank.
“No! Don’t touch them, Frank. They could easily have prints on them,” ordered Terry.
“We can’t just leave them here!” yelled Reg.
“No, we won’t be doing that, Reg” agreed Terry. “We’re stuck here now until the police get to the scene. Give Norman Pendleton a ring, Frank. Give him a quick outline of what we’ve found, and tell him to get his forensic team over here sharp. There’s a good chance that there are probably some bodies hidden away around here too, and tell him that he might well want some dogs on the scene quickly.”
