The Know

by Martina Cole

  He shrugged nonchalantly even though his heart was racing inside his chest.

  ‘I’m a big boy, I’m sure I’ll cope.’

  Jesmond shook his head.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too certain of that.’

  Lorna smiled widely when she saw Jeanette at her front door once more. She was one of the girls now and Lorna treated her as such.

  ‘Come on in, mate.’

  Jeanette remembered to take a deep breath as she walked inside. Once you got into the lounge the smell wasn’t too bad but with the toilet being in the hallway alongside the bathroom, the smell was stronger here.

  ‘So how did you get on then?’

  The place was empty of people for once, and it felt strange. Jeanette stared around her as if for the first time. In the cold light of day it looked even worse than usual.

  The small kitchen had a black bin bag lying on the worktop by the sink. It was moving of its own accord, maggots breeding inside, and Jeanette felt the bile rise up in her throat.

  ‘Pippy wouldn’t have me, blew me out. Did you say anything to him?’

  ‘He what?’

  Lorna could not believe what she was hearing. Did this mean he wanted his ton back? Only the hundred quid was long gone, smack and fags had seen to that.

  She was starting to panic.

  ‘Look, Jeanette, stop worrying. I can talk him round, it’s only because of fucking Jon Jon. I’ll talk to him again. It’ll be cool, you’ll see.’

  Jeanette grinned.

  ‘I’m glad, to be honest.’

  Lorna stared at her as if she was mad.

  ‘Looking at you now, looking at this place, I realise this could have been my life. I’m bad enough as it is, all the trouble I cause, but I tell you something, girl, whatever I may be I will never be as bad as you are. You’re fucking scum, and them babies deserve better than this. I deserve better than this.’

  The insults finally penetrated Lorna’s brain. She drew herself up to her full height as she said, ‘Well, fuck off then.’

  Jeanette grinned.

  ‘I will, Lorna, don’t you worry. I just felt the urge to tell you a few home truths first.’

  She walked out of the maisonette and through the lobby. As she walked out of the front door she saw Jasper standing waiting for her.

  ‘What did you have to tell Lorna?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘Just a message, that’s all. Will you walk me to my mum’s? I want to give the flat a good clean for her. She went off in a bit of a hurry yesterday. I thought I’d sort it out for her.’

  ‘’Course I will.’

  ‘Shall we go out later, Jasper? See a film or something? ’

  ‘Are we cool again, Jeanette?’

  She grabbed his arm and smiled at him.

  ‘I suppose we are.’

  Paulie was signing his gold away in his solicitor’s office. Even though it galled him to give Sylvia anything, he knew he was doing the right thing. It was the lesser of two evils, so he took a deep breath and wrote his name.

  His brief, a middle-aged Scot much taken with Versace suits and tattoos, was clever enough to specialise in clients like Paulie Martin. Danny McBane could hide money from anyone, even his clients though that was not something he advertised. If it ever went pear-shaped he could retire with the click of one button - such was his mindset and the reason he got on so well with the men he did business with. He had no morals and no scruples plus a healthy disregard for the people he dealt with. This, coupled with his aggressive personality, made him the perfect choice to represent Paulie and his porn empire.

  There was nothing he didn’t know about Paulie Martin, something else he had never bothered to advertise.

  He made a point of finding out as much as possible about all his clients. If they were going down at any point, he was not going with them. Not if he could help it anyway. He had a family and two girlfriends to support.

  ‘Women are cunts, Danny. When I first met Sylvia she was existing on a pittance with that mad fucking mother of hers. Fucking State hand-outs! Now she’s walking away with my hard-earned cash, two houses and a grin larger than the Cheshire Cat’s.’ Paulie gulped his brandy before saying, ‘Should have got her topped.’

  It was said quietly and vehemently. He clearly meant it.

  ‘Cheaper certainly, but by the time you’d sorted out childcare round the clock . . .’

  Danny’s mock-serious tone made Paulie smile.

  ‘Cost you more in the long run. By the way, I’ve put in an extra clause. Once the girls are seventeen you pay for their horses, etc. at your discretion.’

  ‘What good will that do?’

  ‘It’s a bargaining point - you may need it by then. That lot think more of their nags than they do of you. It makes no real odds, but if they kick off you have a trump card.’

  Paulie was grinning now.

  ‘Never a truer word spoken. If anyone needs a trump card now, it’s me.’

  ‘What made you marry her, Paulie? I never saw the attraction myself.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘I thought she was upmarket, and I suppose she was in comparison to me and my old woman. Sylvia had a way about her of looking down her nose at everyone. I liked that about her, though fuck knows why. She looked down her conk at me too in the end. But then, I think she had always seen me as being beneath her. Fucking hell, I hardly ever saw her beneath me! And when she was she never moved. I used to take her pulse while we were on the job in case she was dead.’

  They laughed together.

  ‘More sexual activity in a morgue than round my house, I can tell you.’

  ‘You don’t mean that, Paulie. Though my wife never liked her either, said she was cold.’

  ‘She was right. Colder than a witch’s tit, that’s Sylvia.’

  Danny smiled.

  ‘Well, you’ll be a free agent soon, back on the marriage market.’

  ‘Never again. I will be a bachelor boy from now on.’

  ‘You’ll get caught again, we all do. Best laid plans and all that. By the way, how’s Joanie these days?’

  Paulie shrugged.

  ‘Not too good to be honest. Any news?’

  Danny shook his head, his thick red hair and rugged appearance making him look like a country vet rather than a solicitor.

  ‘Nothing. But we’re keeping our options open. Baxter’s being a cunt but what’s new there?’

  ‘Jon Jon’s on his way to Sheffield today. He got a touch before us, but he doesn’t realise how much I know so bear that in mind.’

  ‘I will. Good kid, Jon Jon, you picked well there.’

  ‘I wonder at times, though this new club will be an earner.’

  ‘Does he know about you?’

  Paulie shook his head.

  ‘He don’t know the half of it.’

  ‘Will you tell him?’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  Paulie stood up, annoyed with the way this conversation was going now.

  ‘I’d best be off.’

  Danny didn’t get up, just smiled lazily. It never did any harm to remind people exactly how much you knew about them. It kept them on their toes.

  Baxter watched Joanie as she pulled her case from the taxi. He had her bang to rights now, and found he was actually sorry about that.

  As she paid the driver he saw her daughter Jeanette run out of the flats and straight into her mother’s arms. He watched Joanie hug her tightly, kiss her head and hold her face between her hands as she spoke to her. He saw Jeanette pick up her mother’s bag and carry it inside.

  ‘Are we going in, sir?’

  Baxter looked at the young man beside him. He was tall, painfully thin, and talked through his nose. Baxter couldn’t help thinking, And this is the cream of the crop? God help the Met if so.

  ‘Shut up, Ritter. Let her get a cuppa before we bound in and start questioning her.’

  ‘The psychological advantage, eh, sir? Invade her home territory?’


  Baxter closed his eyes in distress.

  ‘No, Ritter, I mean she looks like she needs a cup of tea. If, and I do mean if, she has been to Sheffield she’s probably parched by now. We have no actual proof she’s been anywhere, let alone up North, and in this country you are still innocent until proven guilty. Now, is that simple enough for you to take on board?’

  Ritter nodded.

  ‘OK, sir.’

  He was not sure about this bad-tempered belligerent man beside him. Sometimes it seemed like he was on the wrong side of the law himself.

  Baxter took out a mobile and tried Paulie’s number again.

  Nothing.

  He lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly.

  He was timing the making of that tea; he could do with a cup himself.

  Joanie and Jeanette were inside the flat. It was spotless, much cleaner than when Joanie had left it.

  ‘Thanks, Jeanette love. It’s lovely to come home to all this.’

  Her gesture encompassed the whole place which had been scrubbed until it shone. There was the smell of a chicken cooking, and the washing machine was spinning. The cosy scene seemed wholly at odds with her usually troublesome daughter, and Joanie was touched to realise how hard Jeanette had worked to do just the right thing to reassure her mother. Joanie’s home being clean was important to her because she was judged on that by her peers, but also because in the chaos that was her life the only thing she had ever been able to control was her environment.

  As she glanced now at the daughter who had done this for her she felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. She still had two children, she still had a family of sorts, and looking at Jeanette she realised she loved this difficult child with a vengeance.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mum.’

  Joanie held her close, enjoying the feeling. It had been so long since Jeanette had given her a hug because she really wanted to and not because Joanie needed one.

  ‘Where did you go, Mum? I was worried about you.’

  There was concern in the girl’s voice.

  ‘I went away for the night, had a bit of business. I would have told you but let’s face it, Jeanette, you’re never here, are you?’

  There was no reprimand in her tone but it lingered in her words and Jeanette wanted to cry. She didn’t, and neither did she start an argument.

  ‘I’ll make us a cuppa.’

  As she busied herself there was a knock on the door. Jeanette answered it with a cheerful expression on her face. When she saw Baxter she tried to shut the door in his face. Something in his stance told her that he brought bad news.

  ‘Go away, Mr Baxter.’

  He pushed the door open and said loudly, ‘I can come back with the whole force if you like, but I am coming in at some point. Get the kettle on, Joanie, will you, girl?’

  He walked through to the kitchen.

  ‘Something smells good.’

  He was smiling sadly at Joanie.

  ‘I have a know-nothing geek outside in the car so let’s make this snappy. You were in Sheffield this morning, Joanie, and you need a good alibi. Which is why I am here.’

  ‘Is this some kind of joke, Mr Baxter?’

  He stared pointedly at her bag and outdoor clothes.

  ‘Do me one favour, Joanie. Don’t take me for a cunt, eh?’

  She couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘As if I would do that, Mr Baxter.’

  ‘I’m trying to help you here, you should understand that. Now make the tea and I’ll tell you what we know and what you have to do.’

  She made the tea slowly, her mind racing the whole time.

  ‘My Chief Constable likes you, Joanie. It seems you have a mutual friend.’

  She placed a mug of tea before him. Looking at Jeanette, she said quietly, ‘Leave us alone, babe.’

  For once her daughter did as she was asked without an argument.

  Joanie sat opposite Baxter and said, ‘Spit it out then.’

  ‘It was you who attacked Tommy Thompson yesterday. ’

  He held up his hand to silence her protests.

  ‘Will you let me talk for once! Fucking hell, Joanie, you’re worse than my old woman and she takes some beating. She could interrupt Joan Rivers without breaking a sweat, her.’

  He sipped at the scalding tea and then said, ‘We all know it was you, but the nurse couldn’t ID you properly. Little Tommy fingered you but he’s retracted that thanks to a mate of mine on the force up there with a gambling problem, an ex-wife and a pregnant girlfriend. But I digress. You have been alibied by Fat Monika and a few of your cronies at the parlour who have all made statements saying you were with them last night and this morning.’

  Joanie was listening to all this in amazement.

  ‘You gave that poor nurse a good smack, Joanie, she has a black eye! Now then, I’m going to give you copies of your mates’ statements so you can get your story straight, OK? Like I say, you’re under the protection of my Chief and that means you walk away this time. But Joanie, listen to me, next time Paulie Martin won’t be able to help you and neither will I. So bear that in mind for the future and get someone else to do your dirty work for you, OK?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Oh, Mr Baxter, I can’t thank you enough.’

  He smiled sadly.

  ‘Just do me a favour. Keep your boat out of the frame for a while, that will be thanks enough.’

  She picked up her cigarettes and he could see her hands shaking.

  ‘Here, let me do that for you.’

  He lit the cigarette and placed it in her hand. Then he lit one for himself.

  ‘Was Monika OK about it all? We ain’t exactly bosom buddies these days.’

  ‘Monika would swear she saw Christ Himself shop-lifting for a few quid, and they all got a good few quid though in fairness they were willing enough to do right by you, Joanie. Just keep your head down and your arse up for a while, though; we can’t keep protecting you.’

  ‘Any news on Tommy’s father?’

  ‘We thought we’d found him yesterday - a body turned up in Epping Forest. It wasn’t him, more’s the pity. He’ll turn up eventually, though. Scum always rises to the surface.’

  Baxter yawned.

  ‘You gave me a fright, Joanie. I’d hate to have to arrest you for what was in effect a public service.’

  She smiled.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m glad in one way that I didn’t finish him. Why bring meself down to his level? But when I think of my Kira . . .’

  Baxter sighed heavily.

  ‘Listen to me, Joanie, we don’t actually know for sure that anything like that happened to her.’

  She shook her head and said sadly, ‘Yes, we do, Mr Baxter. And you know that as well as I do.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jesmond was smoking a joint. He had taken his time building it, and Jon Jon had kept his impatience strictly in check. He could wait. He wanted the truth, and now he was going to get it.

  It was crazy to think that he was only here because he’d wanted sex with a brass and she had unloaded herself on him about Jesmond.

  Unbelievable even.

  But he also knew that unbelievable was the norm for people like them. Their whole lifestyle went against the grain of the average Joe on the street. And he could understand now how those people felt. He only wished he was one of them. If he had learned anything from Kira’s disappearance it was that the norm was not as boring as he had once thought. In fact, now it seemed almost desirable.

  His whole life was not what he had wanted it to be, what he had expected it to be, especially as he now knew that most people had no truck with his kind of life. They wouldn’t want any of it, they had too much sense.

  He had thought he was clever once, going against the norm, yet all he had done was trap himself in an existence that was hard, precarious, outside the accepted morality. What was clever about that?

  Maybe he was growing up at last, who knew? But looking at the two m
en before him, he realised he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days alongside heavy-duty criminals like them.