Cause And Effect

by Pete Adams

  ‘You can have the car, Michael, I’m getting a cab, I’m down eight hundred bikes.’

  ‘Eight hundred bikes?’ Colleen immediately realised her error, hand to her mouth and thought you have to pay attention in this house.

  ‘He exaggerates, darling. Told you a million times, Dad, not to exaggerate.’ Colleen removed her hand and allowed herself the previously stifled laugh.

  ‘Crikey, Colleen, that has to be the oldest joke around, you must really love the little tow-rag.’

  ‘I do love him,’ and as if to prove it, Colleen got up and kissed Michael, wandered over to Jack, who was putting his jacket on, wondering where his raincoat was, and kissed him on both cheeks, ‘and I love you too, Jane,’ giggling and pointing to his raincoat hanging in the hall, where it should be.

  ‘Give me strength, you’ve gone all European.’

  Colleen put her finger on his mouth, ‘Shut the feck-up.’

  ‘Jeyziz, son, heaven help you.’ The cab tooted. ‘Okay, tooting back,’ which only he knew referred to Totting Bec in London, but that didn’t matter, not to Jack in his event garden world, and he rushed out into the rain.

  Michael called from the kitchen, ‘Avant-garde, Dad?’

  The cab dropped Jack roadside. ‘I’ll walk the rest of the way, it’s not like its pissing down or anything,’ but the subtlety of Jack’s sarcasm was lost on the cabbie. Jack paid and ran to the reception doors, ‘Feckety Feck.’

  ‘Cats and Dogs, Jane,’ Hissing Sid remarked.

  ‘Cod and chips twice.’

  ‘Heard you the first time.’

  ‘Your family, they are well?’

  ‘Tolerably so.’

  Jack shook his coat. ‘Thanks, Jane.’

  ‘You’re welcome, you needed a wash,’ and Jack ran up the stairs, two at a time as nobody was looking. He tripped at the top step and fell into Jackie Philips.

  ‘Steady on, Jack, you could walk up the stairs like a normal human being.’

  Mandy was on it like a flash, ‘We’re not talking normal,’ and the ladies shared a chuckle.

  ‘Phil, you little darlin', how yer diddlin’, settled down or still trawling the town for a blind man?’ Jack always said this to Jackie, who was an attractive, tall, and elegant black woman, dark brown eyes, hair that had been straightened and worn in a French bun that Jack called a croissant; slim, slimmer than Amanda but not bony, wearing jeans, sweatshirt and trainers; she had style, and Jack liked her.

  ‘Trawling, looking for someone as ugly as you, but so far they’re all too bright.’ Jackie could match Jack, blow for blow, but knew he had to be standing still to get a shot across his bows, and he was already down the corridor, beckoned for them to follow, pretending he didn’t hear. ‘Jack!’ Jackie stopped him in his tracks, turned a questioning look. Sauntering to him, since he was rigid on the spot, she raised herself to her easily six foot and looked Jack in his good eye, ‘This is a difficult one with Meesh and the other children.’ She enlightened the startled rabbit, ‘Mandy telephoned this morning to brief me, knowing you would have left half of it out, which you did. You need to watch your relationship with Meesh, until we know more.’

  ‘Oh shut-up, Phil, she’s just a kid and I’m being nice, right, Mands?’ he looked at Mandy beseechingly, ‘I’m not being an eejit, am I?’ Mandy was silent.

  ‘She may see it differently,’ Phil answered.

  ‘Who, Mandy?’ Jack replied, and both women sighed.

  ‘Right-you-are, sweet’art, baby steps it is,’ and he pushed open the CP room door and held it for Jackie and Mandy, flicking his head so they got a move on, irritating Jackie.

  The room was buzzing, ‘Kettle, put yourself on mate and make a cuppa Splosh for Phil here. Okay, babes?’ Jack looking at Jackie. ‘'Ave to be monkey tea, no girl grey, I’m afraid.’ Jo-Jums was on the phone and she put her hand up to acknowledge Jackie. Jack continued, ‘Right, listen up, those who do not know who this is...’

  Jo provided him with an admonishing look, ‘I’m on the phone?’

  But Jack was difficult to stop, ‘Well, get off, I want to introduce Phil.’

  ‘Cyrano, I’ve got to go, I’ll speak to you later,’ and Jo hung up.

  ‘That was Cyrano? What did he have to say?’

  Jo looked to the ceiling, the other women were already there. ‘Don’t know, bleedin’ dipstick, you told me to hang up.’

  Jo folded her arms and issued the unspoken dare, and with his best benign face, and leaning slightly back to show how reasonable he could be, ‘Yeah, but Cyrano, you could have made an exception.’ Every woman in the room knew where Jo-Jums was coming from and shared her frustration, whereas the blokes thought, Yeah, can see that. He ignored it all and pointed to Jackie. ‘Anyway, this 'ere is Phil, child Psych, gonna work with us and the kids...’

  Jackie interrupted, ‘I know most of you and for those that do not, I’m actually Jackie Phillips. Jack, the well-known twat of Portsmouth, calls me Phil, derived from some warped machinations of his brain, but I’ve been called Sambo and Darkie-girl before and I believe this is a warm and affectionate epithet, but if I find out any different, I’m sorry, Mandy, but I will rip his balls off.’

  ‘Be my guest,’ Mandy reacted, smiling at Jack’s shocked face.

  Jackie continued, ‘I am a Child Psychologist and have worked with the police on a number of cases. I’ve been briefed on this, and it's a can-of-worms, so, Kettle, I will take that tea if it is still on offer.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jack said, ‘get Phil the tea, Kettle, and me a reinforced jock strap.’

  Mandy thought, last word again, chuckling, but Jack was waving his hands talking to Jackie now, ‘This is Frankie and Confucius my computer team, and Nobby, Good and Bad’s lad; where’s Alice, Nobby?’ The question thrown out, not looking for a reply as Alice came out of the kitchen.

  Jackie whispered into Mandy’s ear, ‘You love this fucking idiot?’ Mandy shrugged into her shy and easily startled kitten look.

  Jack was leaning over Frankie and Connie. ‘Jack, briefing in a minute, and Jackie wants to get up to see Meesh and the other kids,’ Mandy called.

  Waving his hand behind his back, ‘Half a Mo, babes, Connie’s printing some pics of our suspects, Meesh may be able identify one as the man who murdered her mum.’ The whole room turned to Jack, ‘Close your mouths, we are not codfish.’ He never could resist Mary Poppins, never sure if she was good-looking or whether he just liked the umbrella.

  Mandy jumped in, ‘Briefing at nine-thirty, where’s Paolo?’

  ‘On his way in, Ma’am.’

  ‘Hear that, Connie, way in?’

  Another one wasted, Jack thought, but Mandy thought, he’s hyper, what’s causing this?

  ‘Jane, my office, if you pretty please, with brass feckin’ knobs on.’

  ‘Be there directly, Mands.’ Mandy gave Jackie a flick of her head and they went to her office. Jack caught them up, ‘Phil, you drive this okay, but here are the photos of the blokes in the house.’

  ‘Shall we get into Mandy’s office, and I will take this at my own, or should I say, the kids’ pace.’

  Jack put his hands up in surrender, ‘No sweat, Jacks, let me get this briefing done and I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No, you won’t,’ Mandy reacting sternly, supported by Jackie.

  ‘But I have a bond with the girl.’

  Jackie took over, ‘This is a traumatised girl who is likely clinging to any life-raft that passes.’

  Jack looked hurt, ‘But?’

  Mandy calmed him, ‘Let Jackie see Meesh first, okay?’

  Defeated and deflated, in an instant he perked up, ‘Okay girls,’ stuffed the photos in Jackie’s bag; both “girls” looked to the ceiling. Jack shrugged, ‘What?’

  Jo put her head around the door, ‘We’re ready.’

  ‘Sit in, Phil, Kettle will have your splosh and you may get a feel for how to handle things.’

  ‘No thanks, I prefer to meet the children and make my ju
dgement without knowing the details of your investigation.’ She was firm.

  ‘Fair do’s,’ he slowed and put his serious head on, ‘look, I’m sorry if I’m overbearing, but Meesh made an impact, know what I mean?’

  Jackie responded, her sensitive psych head on, ‘That may say more about where you are. So, let’s just see.’

  ‘What’re you laughing at, Jack?’ Mandy looked to stop Jackie from being offended.

  Still laughing, Jack explained, ‘This morning, I made a dash for the bog in me birthday suit and bumped into Colleen, just thought about it.’

  ‘Oh my God, the poor girl,’ both women said.

  ‘No, she was fine. Well, get this, Michael only told Colleen’s dad he loved her, they were sleeping together, and wanted her to stay the night, and the guy accepted; no casualty, or anything.’

  Jackie shook her head, ‘Sounds like a well-adjusted man, something you might not understand?’

  Mandy smirked, ‘He wouldn’t, I was around when his girl Alana wanted to move in with her boyfriend. Jack, what happened?’

  ‘What do you mean what happened?’

  ‘You were bollock naked on the landing with Colleen,’ Mandy was irritated.

  ‘Oh that, well, she said if Michael was as fit as me at sixty she would be very happy, that stands to reason, but the important thing was she thought I sang and whistled beautifully. I told her Amanda thought so too,’ Jack beamed and wobbled his head to convey the point was irrefutably made. Something passed between Jackie and Mandy that was girl’s stuff, Jack thought it was generally a look of approval; can Jack Austin read women?

  Expelling air from her fulsome lips, made Jack think Jackie was going to whistle, and he tried to think of a tune she might know, ‘Mandy, I will go up to see Meesh now, so good luck, and I mean that.’

  Jack brushed aside his disappointment about the whistling, ‘Thanks a lot, Phil, what tunes do you like?’ and as he was already brushing, he brushed aside the querying look from Jackie and moved on, the tunes can wait, and we could always start with Doctor Who. ‘Jackie, we must get together really soon, I’m plotting some sedition and the odd demo at C&A’s this week, could do with the old shrink angle, know what I mean, nudge, nudge?’ and he wiggled his hand under his arm pit and took the opportunity to smell it. It was okay, just, and they say he can’t multi-task.

  Jackie sighed her reply, ‘Jack, I do not want to whistle “Doctor Who,” I am not going to sniff your armpit, Mackeroon is a Twat, Blogg a Twat’s assistant, I will not be at the pub with your weirdo, mates, and will not be demonstrating with you either. I will resort to the ballot box.’

  Jackie seemed clear, which Jack thought odd, ‘Alright, I hope you’re not lumping Mandy in with my weirdo mates.’

  ‘No, but I am worried for her.’

  ‘You are, what’s up, Doc?’ he looked at Mandy, concern on his face.

  Mandy told him to feck-off to the briefing, ‘I shall be there directly,’ she said.

  ‘Little bit of PP there, Mandy babes, not the feck-off bit, but that’s what I would have told arsy Darcy, and especially that bloody Wickham. I told Kate right from the start I didn’t trust that slimy bastard the moment I saw him in Worthington,’ and Jack disappeared as quickly as he appeared. Both women sighed as the pressure was relieved; a common feeling when Jack left a room.

  ‘Certifiable but lovely at the same time, so what can I tell you, d’you think it’s easy?’ Jackie said imitating Jack’s New York Jewish accent, shrugging her shoulders, and they both laughed, ‘If you can’t beat them..?’ and Mandy waved Jackie off and went to join the morning briefing.

  Twenty-Eight

  Paolo deferred to Jack, but Jack being Jane, ‘Paolo, well done on the interrogation, I hear we have a result.’

  ‘No. Thank you, Jane, your intervention was an eye opener; just the one,’ and Paolo grinned. Was that a joke, Mandy thought? Paolo went on to set out what they had achieved. Greg Varney and his cohorts had spilled their guts, but no identity of the main men, Paolo suggesting this may be all they ever knew. The kids and women thought to be no-hopers, picked off the scrap heap and forced to turn tricks, money for the pot, to keep the fascist recruits happy. Paolo agreed this was likely not the driving force, something else was going on, but what?

  ‘Ideas?’ Mandy asked.

  Nobby put his hand up. ‘What if these men were being wound up so they might cause a disturbance, like they did up north?’

  Jack spoke, ‘Nobby, good point, but what about opposition?’

  Nobby reddened, ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘People need to rise up against something, but what? Think about it. We have pretty harmonious race relations in this City. They need tinder for the political spark to light.’

  ‘Bit dramatic?’ Paolo commented.

  ‘I know, so let’s park that, you have a programme of follow-ups on the skinheads?’

  ‘Park?’ Mandy, stifling a giggle.

  ‘Modern lingo, babes, you need to keep up,’ and Jack stroked her face.

  Ordinarily this would rile her, but this was a loving gesture and she found herself liking it, until she saw the stunned look on the faces of the team. Coughing, ‘Right, Paolo, get on with it,’ Mandy said, re-establishing her Superintendent credentials.

  Paolo set out the follow up plans, names, and addresses they intended to raid.

  ‘Let the docs wean the women and kids off the drugs first,' Mandy suggested. 'If Meesh saw something, there’s a good chance one of the women did, just need to convince them they’re safe.’ Rising from her seat, ‘Good work, I've a press conference this evening, so keep me informed.’

  The phone went, Jo picked up, ‘Okay, Sid, I’ll tell him,’ she turned to Jack, ‘Jane, Father O’Brien asked for you to contact him, soon as.’

  Nonchalantly, Jack replied, ‘Did he say what it was about?’

  Not quite so nonchalantly, Jo replied, ‘Oh Yeah, Sid was able to tell me fully in the two seconds I was on the phone.’

  Jack was upright now, ‘Alright, keep your girdle on, and I’m sorry for interrupting your call this morning.’

  Mandy thought, nice save Jack, and Jo responded, ‘Thank you, I’ve spoken with Cyrano, he’s on the Pride of Bilbao ferry, the suspect family car is boarded. They’ve confirmed your theory and they’ve planted a tracker, a follow up squad will meet the car when it docks. Fake plates, captured identity, so I think the second car will be too.’

  ‘What about the family travelling?’ Jack asked, rubbing his chin thinking it made him look intelligent.

  ‘We’ll not know until we question them, but I suspect we’re talking about a cheap, or free holiday, they leave the bikes somewhere and pick them up later; clever. Cyrano's in touch with the French authorities, talking no arrests, but to watch the next lot and to follow them in France, see if we can get a capture there. We monitor the guys in England.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Jack said.

  Nobby looked up as Jack was rising from his seat and stretching, ‘Doesn’t make sense as a brilliant drugs business, such small amounts, are they not greedy, or is there another motive?’

  Jack with an exaggerated yawning voice, ‘Good observation; KFC, what do you have?’ Jack was now walking like Douglas Bader, distracting Mandy, thinking, surely you do not stretch this much.

  Connie answered, ‘We look at women and girls rescued in house and they have no record, if we can get some names it will help, Sir.’

  Frankie followed up, ‘We’re looking into social services records for people, especially kids that have dropped off the radar, a long shot, but we’re getting cooperation from Social.’

  ‘Sounds the right road, thank you,’ Jack fiddled around in his pocket and produced a battered piece of paper, ‘have a go at this, just a thought,’ and Jack handed Frankie the paper.

  Mandy frowned, and Jo-Jums mimicked her.

  ‘Jack, would that be websites, you?’ Mandy asked.

  ‘My love, when I’m in hospital i
t’s not all lying around and moaning, although I admit I fantasised about that a lot,’ giggles from the younger fraternity, but not from Jo-Jums and Mandy, who had their feminista heads on. ‘There were social workers in the assessment wards, I talked to them, okay?’ he knew when not to push, but shrugged his shoulders; he was good at shrugging.

  Mandy released her breath. ‘I believe you, thousands wouldn’t; good shrug though.’

  ‘Well, I’m part of the thousands,’ Jo remarked.

  ‘Jo-Jums, what news from yonder window breaks in vice?’ Jack swerved.

  ‘Not much from the east, in fact we might need you to break Juliet’s feckin’ window in.’

  ‘I’ll do that, Jo,’ Mandy said.

  Jack jumped in, ‘Babes, invite vice here, tell them you want their take on the enquiry, but let the spotlight be here?’

  ‘Something in mind, Jack?’

  ‘Let’s just say my eye is twitching.’

  Jo looked to the ceiling, but it was full.

  ‘What about the cuppa I just made?’ Kettle asked.

  Jack pacing anxiously, ‘Nothing like a cup of Rosy, lad, have it yerself.’

  Mandy clipped Jack on the back of the head, and left.

  Jack phoned and agreed to meet Father O’Brien at St John’s Cathedral and arranged for a bluebottle cab.’

  Twenty-Nine

  Bluebottle cabs dropped Jack outside the Roman Catholic Cathedral. An uneventful trip, the two uniforms prattled on about a hectic weekend at the pubs and clubs, the binge drinking culture, and local demos about cuts in services. They obviously didn’t know Jack and his ability to switch off, ‘Local demos; must see if I can join in?’ he said to himself, standing on the pavement looking up and appreciating the austere red brick Cathedral; he liked the understatement of this building. Similarly, the interior was not as ornate as you might expect for Catholic. He moved towards the rear entrance. Jack had met Father O’Brien here a number of times, this was also Kate’s place of worship, where she had prayed with Martin.