A Merry Harper Holiday (John Harper Series)

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A Merry Harper Holiday (John Harper Series) Page 3

by Edward Holmes


  “You’re joking right?” O’Hara was well known to me as the chief suspect on a number of cases. He owned a couple of pubs in the area and each one of them was rampant with drug use and sales. His career had started as part of a gang of men who had took to policing the doors of Manchester’s clubs. In the Nineties it had been a violent time for bouncers in the city and it showed the strength and resolve of the man that he survived and had since flourished. The brutal beatings he had given out were his trademark and a number of those people were still suffering. He was linked with at least two murders that I knew of and had moved out of the city and to the suburbs when the heat was on him. Buying local pubs and social clubs he controlled a small empire and he really wasn’t the sort of person I expected to be friendly with Shelby.

  “O’Hara and Shelby go back a long way. He even has a kid with Shelby’s sister. No one around here, hell no one in Manchester, will mess with O’Hara and that means Shelby will be safe for long enough to sell that doll. I’m sure O’Hara can get it sold for Shelby quick enough.”

  One of the things with working for yourself and not the state is that you can just walk away if things go pear shaped, unfortunately my sense of duty was preventing me from doing the smart thing. So I looked at Gorman and asked, “Where do we find him?”

  “There are two pubs that O’Hara frequents; Shelby would either go to them, or to his sisters.”

  “Which pubs?” I asked pulling my phone out of my pocket.

  Gorman was remarkably quick to answer, “The Approaches and The Pied Piper.”

  Looking up at the disgraced security guard I held up my phone, “It says the Piper is closest. Unless you know where Shelby’s sister lives I suggest we go there.”

  “Do you really want to antagonise O’Hara anymore by going to the house of the mother of his child?”

  “I haven’t pissed him off yet. I’ll follow your car.”

  Chapter Nine

  Gorman threw his car round corners like he was some sort of rally driver but I stuck to him and we arrived at the old social club in record time. It was a single storey building surrounded by tall towers of council flats. Those buildings cast a joint imposing shadow over the pub, blotting out the already dull grey sky. The dim Christmas lights outside did little to alleviate the mood I was in as the oppressive air of depression surrounded me. We walked into the pub together and the hairs on the back of my neck immediately stood up. It was if I had walked into an old West saloon as everyone in there turned to stare my way. To say I felt intimidated was an understatement but I remained as calm as possible and followed Gorman’s lead, walking to the bar. He ordered two pints of lager and we stood at the bar. My eyes tracked as many of the patrons as I could, which was fifteen plus people.

  That feeling of foreboding was continuing to grow stronger and I rested my back against the bar and tried to look nonchalant as I sipped what must have been one of the worst drinks of my life. The beer tasted watered down which was fine if it had tasted like beer at all, I felt like I was being poisoned by the sour drink and placed it back on the bar. Gorman was talking to the barmaid in a hushed tone. She was an angry looking plump blonde woman who hadn’t taken her eyes off me since I’d walked in. I had a feeling that I may have met her before in my past, which meant she probably had a record.

  The security guard finished talking to the bar staff and leaned into speak to me, “Stella here says that Shelby hasn’t been in here for a week. She has told me though that his sister has a flat up in the east tower if we want to check there.”

  “You warned me off going there before.”

  “True, but it is closer than going to the other pub.”

  Again my senses were telling me to walk away but I just nodded and indicated for him to lead the way. I was happy to be out of the drinking establishment but less happy to be going inside one of the tower blocks. The buildings were monstrosities of an age when government affordable housing for the masses wasn’t worried about aesthetics. Walking through the small courtyard we saw how the new recession was affecting those already on the bread line, so to speak. I knew that there were countless good people around here, those who worked or couldn’t but my eyes saw only the lawbreakers. I watched hooded youths hanging around corners, wondering if they were carrying weapons or drugs, and suspecting both. One of them held a tight chain leash on a small pit-bull that barked as we walked into the foyer of the building.

  I was greeted to the smell of countless cooked meals merged together and the prevailing smell of urine, either animal or human. The two lifts were out of order but thankfully Shelby’s sister lived on the third floor. We walked in silence up the heavily graffiti covered stairwell. I was still trying to figure out Gorman since I was certain that he was planning to betray me as soon as was profitable for him. The man was just being a bit too helpful to be trusted and I rarely trusted people to begin with, so I definitely wasn’t going to start with him. To be fair, he didn’t pay much attention to me as he occasionally looked at his own phone.

  Arriving at apartment three eighteen, I let Gorman knock whilst I stood at the side of the door out of sight. The door opened behind a heavy security chain to reveal a young brunette who, considering she was related to Shelby, was remarkably attractive, “Can I help you?”

  “Miss Shelby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I work with your brother at the Arndale and he left early today. I was wondering if he was ok and since he wasn’t at home I thought he might be here,” Gorman said, and I must admit, he was a decent liar but it just rang hollow to me.

  It must have been the same to her ears because Shelby’s sister wasn’t convinced, “I haven’t seen my brother in months, why would he come here?”

  “Are you sure?” Gorman said quite forcefully.

  I was surprised by his attitude and even more so when he put his shoulder to the door and broke the lock forcing his way inside. Shelby’s sister screamed out as he pushed her to the floor demanding to know where her brother was. I was shocked enough to be stood there dumbfounded but I recovered enough to follow Gorman inside as he was busy searching the house. Shelby’s sister was lying on the floor with a bruise already blossoming on the right side of her forehead. Things were getting out of hand and I needed to control the security guard.

  The woman was getting to her feet as I went in. She was yelling out and running towards one of the doors. I followed her first, as she protectively went for her child who was in bed. Her hands went around the small boy and I stood in the doorway and offered, “Don’t worry he won’t hurt you,” before turning and hoping I could stop the madman.

  Entering the living room area I saw Gorman tearing at the couch and knocking over things in his search. His face was a mask of concentration and anger. I marched over to him and grabbed his arm but he flung me back, “Gorman what the hell are you doing? We’re supposed to be finding Shelby.”

  Gorman rounded on me and threw a lamp that narrowly missed my head. In dodging it I was slightly off balance which gave him enough time to hit me with a chair he picked up. The wooden frame shattered on my back and dropped me to the ground. I was expecting another hit but nothing came as Gorman steamed past me and towards the bedroom where I had left Shelby’s sister. Hurting but not incapacitated, I grabbed for something to throw and picked up a hefty book. It was hard backed and when I hurled it, the book hardly opened as it struck Gorman in the side of the head. Getting hit in the temple is always disorientating and the book had drawn blood which Gorman was just realising as he staggered into the doorframe. To be honest it was an amazing throw and I was chuffed with the results, thinking back, but at that moment I was rushing to my feet and towards the man.

  Now Gorman had a simple choice, he knew Shelby wasn’t in the room and by the way he had searched the house, he was looking for the doll. If the doll was in that room he would have to search it after getting past me and the woman. One thing I knew about women was you never crossed them when they are pissed, especially
when they are defending their children. I’d seen women barely five foot take on gunmen when protecting their kids. Doing the sensible thing Gorman gave one look towards me and ran.

  Chapter Ten

  I went to the door to watch Gorman run down the stairs before going back to Shelby’s sister to try and calm her down. It was something I had no time or real expertise in doing. When women start screaming and shouting I usually run for the hills but I had brought Gorman on this little hunt so felt morally obliged to do something now that he had got out of order. I shut the door and decided to help tidy the house up. I started with the book I had thrown which made me feel bad when I realised it was a copy of the Holy Bible. Not that I am religious but I had a copy of the book myself that I had kept for years which was one of my prized possessions, since it was given to me by my grandmother before she passed away.

  “I guess the power of Christ compelled him to leave,” I quipped to nobody as I righted the damage in the living room and binned the demolished chair. By the time I was finished cleaning Shelby’s sister came out of the bedroom, this time brandishing a cricket bat.

  “Get the hell out of my home!” she ordered with weapon held high.

  I held up my hands and smiled, “Yes ma’am, I”m sorry for any inconvenience.”

  “You will be. What the hell were you doing here anyway?”

  “Your brother stole something; I was here trying to find him to see if he still had it. I’m sorry for what the other man did, I don’t know him but I will make sure he gets punished for his actions.”

  She stared at me with big green eyes and just like when she read the lies in Gorman’s words she heard the truth in mine, “Are you a copper?”

  “I used to be. I’m a private detective now and I was hired to find something your brother stole, that is all. That man is also after what he, I just didn’t think he would be so aggressive in his search. I’m sorry for that,” I had decided on the truth which is a rarity for me but it made me feel more comfortable when dealing with someone with a weapon. Plus it meant I didn’t have to think of a lie.

  “My brother is a deadbeat, Mister, and that is all you need to know. I don’t like him being around my kid, so I don’t let him come here. When I said I hadn’t seen him I was telling the truth.”

  “Thank you for your honesty, ma’am. Again I apologise for any inconvenience. If you get in contact with a Jack Dunn of the Arndale Centre security I’m sure he will make up for any damage out of that man’s pay check.”

  She lowered the bat noticeably, “Really?” I nodded in response, “You’re nothing like any copper I have ever met before.”

  “Like I said I aint one anymore, ma’am.”

  “I’m sorry for what is about to happen.”

  I was confused so I asked, “What do you mean by that?”

  “It means I rang Matty when that man broke in and that means they will be here in the next couple of minutes.”

  I let out a sigh and nodded, “Thanks for the heads up,” I said before walking past her to the door not taking my eyes off the woman and her bat, “My name is John Harper by the way. You know if I you want to send flowers to my funeral or something.”

  The front door burst open with a clatter to reveal a tall bald man brandishing a shotgun, “Oh don’t worry about that you won’t be in any marked graves.”

  Next thing I lost consciousness, as the butt of the weapon struck above my eye knocking me to the ground and out for business.

  Chapter Eleven

  After years of being a homicide detective, of working cases and long hours I thought I would relish the chance to work for myself. I had however, in the past year, managed to be battered to a pulp and knocked unconscious three times. It was becoming a habit that I wasn’t particularly fond of and my head was probably suffering some brain damage. I expected to wake up bound and gagged but I had been left relatively unmolested. Sure, I had a massive headache and there was a nasty cut over my eyebrow but otherwise I was good enough to stand. I stayed on the ground though and did my best to analyse my surroundings.

  I was on a concrete floor that was cold to the touch and smelt of damp, like I was underground. There was a dripping sound coming from the far corner that echoed slightly. Other than that all I could tell was that it was a barren and desolate place to die.

  “You don’t need to pretend to be asleep anymore,” the deep booming voice of Matt O’Hara said from the darkness.

  Sucking my teeth I tilted my head slightly before standing up with my hands raised, “I guess you’ve seen your fair share of knocked out men.”

  “That I have, Detective Harper, that I have,” he said as he came out of the shadows. He was a mountain of a man who was as intimidating as those tower blocks had been.

  “Surprised I’m still alive to be honest O’Hara.”

  “You think I need the heat of a dead copper on my hands? Don’t be stupid Harper. Once I found out who you were and had a chat with Kimmy it makes little sense to end you,” O’Hara was a dressed respectably in a black coat and suit but with heavy duty boots on like you would see if he was working on the doors back in the day as a bouncer.

  His words were enough to make me smile, “Well that is some good news.”

  “I never said I wouldn’t give you a beating for breaking into the house where my kid was asleep just before Christmas now did I?”

  “True but it wasn’t me doing me doing the breaking in. You’re looking for a man called Gorman, he’s after your friend Shelby.”

  O’Hara shook his head, “He’s not my friend, and I tolerate the man. Kim said he stole something you want returned.”

  “I’d rather find it myself, to be honest.”

  The ex-bouncer smiled and laughed at me, “You think I’ll take it for myself.”

  “Positive you would.”

  “You’re probably right. Shelby is next door running something for me. I have the Season Force doll and because of your kindness I’ll happily give it to you but I want you to do something for me.”

  Now when you hear something like that from a man with such a reputation it sends shivers down your spine. I was still in a situation that I wouldn’t wish on many people, maybe just my former boss and my ex-wife so I tried my best to get out of it, “What do you want?”

  “Like I said I have a little pre-Christmas event going on next door but I thought it would be a nice little interlude for my paying punters to see the great John Harper in action.”

  I didn’t say anything, what could I say? I still wasn’t sure what he meant but I strained my ears in the darkness to try and hear what was going on next door and I could faintly hear yells and cheering, “This some sort of fight club?”

  “You aren’t a copper anymore Harper, what I do doesn’t mean crap to you. You’re a lucky man at the moment and like I said I would let you have the doll. All you need to do is beat your opponent.”

  “Right well let’s do this then, who am I going up against?”

  “Your good friend Gorman.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Now I’ve been in a lot of fights in my life and I had trained extensively to be as dangerous in unarmed combat as possible. Problem is, in most martial arts, it is in a place with softened mats and with referees. I say it is a problem because when you go into a street fight people don’t expect the amount of violence that usually greets you. I’d already bested Gorman before but this was going to be different as I was led into the room to a mass of cheering, boozed up men. If the room where I had woken up was cold and damp, this one was uncomfortably hot, not somewhere that was helpful for fighters.

  I was pushed into the room with two of O’Hara’s goons behind me. The crowd parted as I made my way to the centre of the room. I was early enough to see what was apparently the undercard to my contest; which nearly made me sick to my stomach as a dead dog was being dragged out of the area dedicated to being a ring.

  It was disgusting to watch the poor creature in such a bad way; the victor wa
s in the arms of a man next to Shelby cut and scratched in to the point that I was surprised it was still alive. My eyes never left the dog or the man as he seemed to be talking to Shelby about what to do with the dog. My focus was so intent I didn’t hear O’Hara announce me to the baying crowd, as someone hosed down the floor removing the blood on the ground before putting down a mixture of sand and sawdust to try improving traction. I didn’t think it did but I was happy to watch the crimson wash away.

  I snapped back to reality as one of the goons forcefully removed my jacket from my shoulders. O’Hara loved his role as the Master of Ceremonies, grandstanding and yelling out, “Gentlemen I give you his opponent: Mister Dean Gorman!”

  The crowd cheered and I got the distinct feeling that he was known to them as he made his way into clearing. He was bruised and a bloodied which was probably from getting caught himself. Gorman was however a lot more into this fight than I was, ripping off his shirt and raising his arms to the crowd. O’Hara continued, “I’m sure you all remember Mister Gorman, a two time champion in this contest back in the day. This fight is till I decide who is the winner, gentlemen, so even if you are knocked out that doesn’t end it nor does submission.”

  I let myself become calm to my situation and relaxed my body as best I could, taking deep breaths, rolling my shoulders and shaking my hands to remove the tension. I knew that Gorman was strong but he was also slow and I’d already knocked him down before so I was confident of victory. Once O’Hara had retreated into the crowd, the fight started. The security guard stood in a fighting stance and edged towards me. I was a lot more open, with my palms in front of me much like the Muay Thai fighters I had seen in Liverpool on my last case. I intended to immobilise the larger foe with kicks and blocks and so waited for his first attack.

  Gorman showed some training in his boxing attack, throwing out a quick set of jabs and followed by a straight but I dodged them fluidly knocking the right handed punch to the side with my left forearm before bringing my knee into his chest yet again which would cause him excruciating pain. He had fallen for essentially the same attack that I had dropped him the first time he attacked me but this time he stood and delivered a left hook towards me. I was quick enough to block it with my left arm, feeling the full power of the punch land heavily on my muscle, deadening the senses in it. It unbalanced me somewhat before hitting him down to the ground with my right fist. Blood splattered out of his mouth and I thought I saw a tooth spin away as I moved out of his range.

 

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