The Burnley Boys

by Drew Black

  "I know." Jack agreed, "It won't always be like that though Helen."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, don't repeat this to anyone, but Tom and I are determined to get us all out of this within two years, I give you my word on that."

  Helen turned and looked at him, "I know you mean well Jack," she said, "but two years will turn into four and four will turn into eight."

  "Helen, I've just given you my word, haven't I." Jack said in an annoyed tone.

  Helen nodded, taken aback a little by her brother's sharpness.

  "Listen to me," he continued more softly. “I promise both of you; two years maximum, and then we're out of it."

  "Well, you'll have your big sister to answer to, if you let us down then." she said pecking him on the cheek.

  "Everything alright?" Jack asked as Tom returned to the table.

  Tom shook his head, "There's been some trouble at a club in Bury, Sam's hurt bad. I'm sorry Helen, everybody, I'm going to have to go."

  "It's okay," Helen said, "it's your job."

  Tom looked at her and smiled, "Thanks." he said.

  "Listen Tom, you sit down and finish your meal, I'll go and sort it. Has Jimbo called the doc?"

  "Yeah, but ..."

  "No buts, tonight's about you and Helen. Jane will have to stay with you though. In case we need to use the house."

  "Of course, but are you sure about this though?"

  "Yes, Dimitri will lend me some wheels, I'll see you all in the morning." Jack kissed Helen and then Jane."

  "Be careful." Jane said.

  "Don't worry, I will." Jack replied with a smile. "See you in the morning buddy." Jack said clapping Tom on the shoulder.

  By the time Tom and the girls were saying their goodbyes to Dimitri snow was falling quite heavily.

  "Are you sure you don't want to stay over Tom? You know that you're all welcome, don't you?" Dimitri said with sincerity.

  "No, we'll get back Dimitri, but thanks all the same."

  "Okay but drive carefully." Dimitri said waving them off.

  Tom pulled out of the restaurant's car park and onto the road. "This is the only problem with Nelson," he said, "the roads are treacherous in bad weather."

  "Do you think we should stay over Tom?" Helen said. "The road doesn't look too clever."

  "No, it's not too bad, we'll be home in half an hour."

  Behind them a Range Rover pulled out onto the road, its wipers shifting snow.

  "Everyone warm enough?" Tom asked as they travelled along.

  "Yes, thanks." Helen and Jane replied.

  Tom drove carefully. Where the hell had all this snow come from? He thought, it had only started half an hour ago. The Merc was making light work of it though. "Who’s for an egg toastie, when we get home?" he joked.

  "Oh, don't Tom." Helen said patting her tummy. "I'm going to have to diet for a week as it is."

  "You always get one asshole, don't you? Go past if you want, you fuckin' idiot."

  The girls looked round to see the Range Rover's headlights baring down on them.

  "God, he is close." Jane said. "Stop the car Tom and let him go past."

  "No, it's alright, he'll just have to exercise a bit of patience, that's all." Tom said trying his utmost to sound calm. This can't be Seedmore Park, not all the way out here surely, he thought frantically. Just keep calm Tom, you're overreacting he told himself. It's bad driving conditions and you've got an asshole at the back of you, that's all. Nevertheless, it didn't stop him from wishing that Jack was here with them.

  The Range Rover dropped back, and Tom sighed. Just another mile and they'd be on the main road, it wouldn't be half as bad once they got there. Tom increased his speed and the Range Rover responded. Now he knew it was serious, the Range Rover was coming at them like a train.

  Smash! The Range Rover careered into the back of Tom's Mercedes. Helen screamed as the Merc crashed into the metal barrier. The barrier buckled under the impact but didn't give way. Tom was sweating heavily, he knew that going off the road at this point would mean certain death for all of them because it was at least a hundred-foot drop, if not more. Tears welled in his eyes as he threw the car into reverse. He was vaguely aware of the girl's screams and a warm patch that was forming at his groin. The Merc's wheels spun crazily, but the car wouldn't pull free from the barrier because its bumper was caught up in it.

  "Get out!" Tom screamed. "Get out now!"

  The Range Rover hit Tom's Merc squarely in the back and sent it plummeting over the edge. The Range Rover reversed and carried on in the direction of Burnley.

  8

  Jack was awoken by a buzzing noise; it came to him through his dream. He raised his head from his pillow and put on his glasses - 3.30am.

  "Alright, alright." he shouted as he lifted the intercom's receiver. "Jack Davies. Who is it, and what do you want?"

  "Hello Mr Davies, it's the police, I need to come in and talk to you."

  "It's three-thirty in the morning." Jack countered, a million and one thoughts rushing through his head.

  "Yes, I know sir, but I do need to talk to you." the policeman repeated.

  "Okay, just give me a minute." Jack said replacing the receiver and getting out of bed. God, it was cold, he thought, putting on a jumper and then his dressing gown. He looked out of the window and saw the blue pulsating light of the panda car. Could this be Briggs? He thought. It was a bit elaborate, but he wouldn't put anything past him. Or was it concerning tonight's events in Bury? Jack pressed the intercom's gate release button and stood back from the window and watched as the panda car pulled into his drive. A lone officer got out and headed up the pathway. Jack took his revolver from his bedside cabinet and flicked out the chamber. He was greeted by six gold circles. He snapped the chamber shut and removed the gun's safety.

  The doorbell sounded. Jack went downstairs, he held the gin in his dressing gown pocket. If this was a hit, he was going to take this bastard with him, that was for sure. Jack took a deep breath and hooked up the door's safety chain. He opened the door. "Could I see your ID officer?" he asked.

  "Certainly sir."

  Jack took the ID with his left hand whilst keeping a firm hold on the pocketed gun with his right. It all seemed to be in order, but then again, he supposed you could never tell for sure. Nevertheless, he removed the safety chain and opened the door, all the time keeping his finger poised on the revolver's trigger.

  "Good Morning Mr Davies, I'm Sergeant Cooper of the Burnley Police Constabulary, can I come in?"

  "Okay, but what is this all about?"

  "I think it's better if we discuss it inside sir."

  Jack replaced the gun's safety and let it drop into his dressing gown pocket. He flicked on the lounge light. "Go through," he said, "would you like a coffee?"

  "No, I'm fine sir thanks. Mr Davies, I have some very bad news, I’m afraid, I think you'd better come and sit down."

  Jack continued into the kitchen where he stowed the gun in a cupboard. It's Tom, I know it, he thought. It couldn't be anything else. Jack returned and stood in the centre of his lounge.

  "Please sit-down sir." The officer advised again, to which Jack waved a dismissive hand. "Just tell me what it is." he said.

  "There's been a car accident Mr Davies, involving your partner, sister, and brother-in-law.”

  Jack nodded slowly.

  "They're all dead."

  Jack went over to the gas fire and clicked it on. He stood over it and warmed his hands.

  "As you know, they'd been out for a meal. The accident happened on the way back on the Read pass."

  "I should've been with them; I should be dead as well." he said to the fire.

  "Mr Dazlo, the owner of the restaurant, informed us that you'd left the meal early on a business engagement."

  "I must ring Elizabeth and Sally." Jack said going over to the telephone.

  "An officer has already visited Mrs Ford sir; she was the one who informed us about Quakos. I bel
ieve Sally is with her now. She wanted to ring you, but, well, I'm here instead."

  "Oh, right." Jack said vacantly. "Listen, if you won't have a coffee, how about a whiskey?"

  The officer nodded, "I'll have a small whiskey with you Mr Davies."

  "Please, sit down." Jack said walking over to the wall unit. He took out a bottle of Glenfiddich. His hand shook as he poured the first one, the neck of the bottle rattling against the rim of the glass, he steadied it with his free hand. The end of the road, he thought, there's no-one left. I should've been there. What now, what the fuck happens now? If I would’ve been with them everything would be okay. This isn't.

  "I'll drive you down to Mrs Ford's if you like." The officer said accepting the whiskey.

  "Thank you." Jack replied.

  PHILIPPA MARSH COMES TO TOWN.

  1

  April 1966

  D ave Jenkins's Saab Turbo pulled into a picnic area high above Burnley. “This had better be good Dave." Quilter said getting out of the car. "What the fuck have you dragged me all the way up here for anyway?"

  "Walls have ears Quilter."

  "Not my fuckin' walls." Quilter said checking the picnic bench for splinters before sitting down on it. He removed a piece of lint from his suit sleeve. Jenkins sat down opposite him. "Go on then." Quilter said grumpily.

  "The elections are less than eight months away."

  "You don't have to tell me that Dave, I know when the fuckin' elections are."

  "Quilter, do me a favour will you, just hear me out?"

  Quilter nodded begrudgingly. "Go on then." he said.

  "Our only problem is Davies, right?"

  "Yeah, well he wouldn't've been, if you'd done your fuckin' job properly."

  Jenkins sighed. The breeze moved the grass around, and a tractor's engine laboured somewhere in the distance.

  "Carry on." Quilter said.

  "What if I can get someone close to him, and I mean really close."

  Quilter's brow furrowed, "A woman?"

  Jenkins nodded. "I have a relative who lives in Leeds, she's my cousin. I don't want to go into detail, but let's just say we're very close.

  Quilter smiled.

  "I saw her the other night, and we got talking. Don't worry, I haven't given her any details. I just told her that I needed to get something on a guy. Anyway, she looks me in the eye and says, 'I'll get it for you, that's as long as the job pays well enough.’"

  "This is your cousin, we're talking about, someone whom you are very close to?"

  Jenkins nodded.

  "You're a sick bastard, even I wouldn't go there with my own cousin." he said shaking his head but smiling all the same.

  "It could get us elected, but I've got to be honest, it was all Gilly's idea."

  "What's she like this Gilly?" Quilter asked somewhat intrigued.

  Jenkins realising he'd got a nibble continued, still cautiously, however. "She's extremely intelligent, she's a graduate working as a lab technician. She's attractive as well, but what's more is I really believe she can pull this off. You would never guess it to look at her, but she's as hard as nails.”

  Quilter was looking at Jenkins carefully. "How much would she want?" he asked.

  "Uh," Jenkins said hesitating, "ten grand, dependant on results of course." Quilter didn't blow a fuse as he'd anticipated he would, he simply nodded and massaged his chin. "It's not a bad idea Dave, I'll give you that. He's still vulnerable, but I think I'd be happier using one of my own girls."

  "What one of your hookers? He'd suss it straight away."

  Quilter shook his head, "I do deal with women other than the ten bob a night variety that I let you sample occasionally, you know."

  Jenkins smiled; "very funny." He said.

  "Joking aside Dave, I'm going to let you run with this because I think it could work. However, no disrespect to your cousin, but we need a professional, someone who is capable of remaining emotionally detached, and I think I know the perfect woman for the job."

  2

  A girl with long red hair wearing a smart two-piece suit and carrying an expensive briefcase knocked on the door of Dave Jenkins's house which was a well-kept semi not far from Jack Davies's old place.

  "Mr Jenkins?" she enquired as the door opened, "I'm Philippa Marsh."

  Jenkins stood there for a second, "Err, come on in. No luggage?"

  "It's in the car, I thought it was best to leave it for now. You know what neighbours can be like."

  Jenkins nodded. Fuckin' hell, she was stunning he thought as he followed her into the hallway. "The lounge is first on the left." he said working her over with his eyes.

  Philippa didn't care much for the wallpaper which was a floral print which clashed horribly with the carpet, but the furniture was okay. The suite had a solid dark oak frame with green upholstery, and in fairness that did match the carpet. it was just that God awful wallpaper that spoilt the room.

  "Take a seat Philippa please." Jenkins said. She was nothing like he'd imagined. He had to hand it to Quilter, there's no way in a thousand years he would've guessed that this girl dropped her knickers for a living. "Do you want a coffee, something stronger perhaps?"

  "A coffee will be fine thanks; black, two sugars."

  Jenkins went along the hallway to the back of the house where the kitchen was situated. You lucky bastard Davies, he thought to himself. He wanted him to suffer for fuck's sake, not go out with a smile on his face. Jenkins shook his head as he stirred the coffees. He wondered how much she did charge before quickly telling himself to get a grip. Quilter had entrusted this project to him, and he knew if he fucked up, he would probably lose his job, maybe even more than that. I wonder if he's given her one. Jenkins thought smiling to himself as he carried the coffees back to the lounge. "There you go Philippa, black, two sugars." he said handing her, her drink.

  "Thanks." she replied looking up at him with her emerald green eyes. "David's told me what the assignment is about, but he said that you'd fill me in with all of the details." She said looking for a place to put her coffee.

  "It's okay, just put it on the carpet." Jenkins said on noticing her predicament. He'd give him some stick about the 'David' thing the next time he saw him, that was for sure.

  "What's wrong?" she said smiling.

  "Nothing's wrong, I imagine David's told you about the injuries you're going to have to sustain ..."

  "A broken leg." she said calmly.

  "Yeah, I'm truly sorry about that, but this has got to look realistic because Davies is one paranoid fucker at the best of times. Sorry, please excuse my French."

  "It doesn't matter, I'd prefer it if you feel completely at ease with me. You never know, it could end up saving my life."

  Jenkins shook his head, "It won't come to that." he said. "If you're as good as Quil … as David says you are, you'll sail through it."

  Philippa smiled.

  "I can't believe you're a ... well, you know what I mean."

  "A prostitute?"

  Jenkins nodded.

  "Yeah, well we don't all stand on street corners chewing gum. I'm not decrying those girls for one moment though because it must take a lot of guts."

  "How did you get into it?" Jenkins asked. "No, sorry, it's none of my business, it doesn't matter."

  "No, I don't mind telling you, besides it's no big secret, not from you or David, anyway. I was a P.A. for this guy, an important guy, in Manchester, and he used to like me to entertain his big clients. Entertain being the operative word. Some of them were right slimy old gits, but the money was amazing. I could earn more in one night than I could in a whole month in my daytime job. You see I've always stuck to the philosophy of working as little as possible for as much as possible. Maybe, I'm just lazy but being an escort’s a business, I don't turn tricks just to pay the rent, or to feed a habit for that matter, I do it to make money, lots of money, and if the punter can't afford me then he doesn't get laid, it's that simple."

  "I like that philoso
phy." Jenkins said, "It's nice work if you can get it though."

  Philippa shrugged, "I do okay." she said. "I must admit, I was a bit concerned about having to have my leg broken, but David assured me that you were something of an expert in that particular field."

  Jenkins nodded, "I'm not going to kid you that it won't hurt like hell because it will, but it will be clean, and it will heal. Unfortunately, it does have to be a break though because as I said earlier Davies is a suspicious fucker, to put it mildly, so a dislocation probably wouldn't cut the mustard with him. I'll be honest with you, I don't like the man, I never have, and I never will, but he's a smart cookie, I'll grant him that much. Anyway, we're getting a little ahead of ourselves, the first thing we have to do is get you a house and a job. The house won't be a problem, there's half a dozen for rent in this vicinity. Properties about this size, so you'll be comfortable enough."

  "And the job?"

  "You're fully qualified in secretarial skills, so we recommend that you stick to what you know. I've made a list of companies to avoid mind, we do have a vested interest in a fair percentage of the town's industry, and we don't want any link to us whatsoever."

  Philippa didn't dislike Jenkins, she felt quite comfortable in his presence, unlike David Quilter who made her skin crawl. However, when he'd come up with the offer, it was just too good to refuse. She just hoped she wasn't biting off more than she could chew because this Jack guy sounded smart, and if they had to go to these lengths to get something on him, she concluded that he must be. Furthermore, these people weren’t your ordinary businessmen. No, these people played for keeps, she was under no illusions about that. Taking everything into account the offer was still too good to turn down though. She could set herself up for life if she pulled this deal off, that's assuming that she didn't get killed in the process.

  "Let me show you your room." Jenkins said.

  "The room's fine." Philippa said coming downstairs. "I mustn’t get too comfortable here mind, apparently time is of the essence." She said turning and looking back up at Jenkins.