‘Why would you still owe him £200?’
‘Yeah right,’ I smirk. ‘Make that Simon owes him… his fee, remember? For developing the film.’
‘Oh, I see. But surely you’re now even as far as Herb’s concerned.’
‘Maybe… perhaps he’s trying to tell me I’m out of the game.’
‘Either way, I can’t leave it there. I still think he’s my father. He doesn’t realise it yet and although he’s angry now, I can’t give up on him until he looks me in the eye and refuses to accept me as his daughter.’ She looks right into mine and adds: ‘I’ve got to see him again.’
I get my phone and call the number of his country house. It just rings and rings.
15.
Saturday, 26th
I fell asleep on the couch last night. Grace was tired and went back to bed. I finished off the last three inches of a bottle of Jack Daniels that had sat in the cupboard untouched since Sam left. Hard to believe I know, but Bourbon’s not my thing. She would drink it with Coke but I’ve never been one for mixers.
I’m woken by blinding sunlight. I hadn’t bothered closing the curtains in case there were any more mysterious visitors, but all had been quiet until the early hours. At least that’s the last time I remember getting up to look out the window. There’s a gnawing pain just behind my eyes and I block out the light with my hands. On the coffee table there’s a message written on a yellow sheet of paper, tucked beneath the empty bottle:
BACK AT FIVE – G x
The smile that crosses my face at the thought of the decoy bundle’s reincarnation as a notepad is tinged with guilt that I didn’t at least see her before she left. I knew she had to work today and I wanted to make sure she was up to it. I told her last night I would take her to the salon this morning but she said no. I was still going to anyway. I’m reminded how many times I used to promise to do things for Sam, only to get too worse for wear and then let her down. She said I had a problem. When she cheated on me I was able to reassure myself she was the problem. Now, I’m not so sure.
I snap out of my self-pity and go into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. There’s no bacon in the fridge and only one egg. Grace has left low fat bagels and a carton of cranberry on the breakfast bar. I decide to give the bagel a try and pass on the juice. The wrapper suggests I might like it with low fat crème fraiche and blueberries. I just toast it and spread it thick with butter. It goes down well with black coffee and I toast another one.
After a quick shave, I grab the mobile. It’s got a missed call and I hope it’s Grace. It’s not. I smirk at my own joke when the phone says Lucky Jim called an hour ago. I was being ironic when I added him to my contacts list, but after yesterday’s cosy little tête-à-tête, maybe I should have put him in as Clever Dick. I call Grace first and get her voicemail. I feel strangely nervous about calling Melville back before speaking to her. She seems to be able to bring out a softer side in him than the one I had to deal with at the station. I tell myself to stop being a prat and ring him back. I needn’t have worried because I get his voicemail too. I leave my name and number and head back into the bathroom.
Stark Choice
I’ve just got out of the shower when I hear the phone ringing. I’d rather not proliferate the game of ping-pong with Melville so I dash to the kitchen naked and pick it up. That’s when my heart jumps into my throat, because it says the caller is Bleak House.
It’s the name I put in my contacts list against the number that made me jump the last time it called me that night I was skulking around outside, worried that Herb might have been incarcerated there.
I press the green button and lift the phone without speaking.
‘Mickey Field?’ Slow and deliberate, the deep voice is disturbingly familiar.
‘Who’s asking?’
‘We’ve spoken before,’ he says.
That much I already know.
‘Uh… how do you know my name?’ I say slowly, trying to control my breathing.
‘You introduced yourself… remember?’
‘When?’ I say and he leaves me in limbo struggling to make the connection until I hear a click and then another vaguely familiar voice that’s instantly enlightening and equally alarming.
“Sorry I woke you, Herb. It’s so good to talk to you.” A recording of my own pathetic drunkenness slurs back at me down the line. “Thought you were in trouble…”
‘Does that help?’ the other voice adds in startling contrast.
‘You’re the bastard who burned the house down,’ I yell. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘So many questions... and so much anger, Mickey. You don’t mind if I call you Mickey?’
‘You can call me Monty-bleeding-Python if you want, but I still want to know who the hell you are and what you want.’
‘For the moment,’ he says calmly, ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t know my name. Before that happens, I’d need to be sure what side of the line you’re on.’
‘What’s that suppose to mean? What line?’
‘Things have become… complicated, Mickey.’ I dwell briefly on the irony of my own words, this time from a stranger’s mouth, when he continues, ‘There’s your alliance with Long, on the one hand… that reminds me, was he pleased with the camera?’
‘What’s it to you?’ I say, suddenly feeling very exposed, here in my kitchen, without so much as a tea towel for cover.
‘Oh, just curious. It’s good to know he’s resurfaced.’
‘I didn’t say…’ But of course I had. Undeterred, I stay on the offensive. ‘So, what’s so complicated about that? I’ve known him most of my life.’
‘Yeah, I’ll grant you that. But you’d have to admit there’s been something of a reunion of late. The complication is that, on the other hand, you’re spending all this time with Miss Pinner.’
‘What about Grace?’
‘I think she’s taken quite a shine to you, Mickey. That was most unexpected. I suppose you know who her father is.’
‘That copper, you mean…’
‘Chief Inspector, no less. I’d expect you to show a little more respect for the boys in blue, considering your… dubious background.’
‘Yeah? What else do you know about me then?’
‘Oh, I’m pretty well-connected, Mickey. Let me see… first there’s your father. I think they call him The Sheriff… in certain circles… on account of the way he shafted your brother. Poor Little John. Need I go on?’
‘Yeah, okay. You’ve made your point. What do you want?’
‘Well that all depends… like I said… what side of the line you’re on.’
‘I don’t get it. And even if I did, what’s it to you anyway?’
‘This can get to be a very messy business, my friend. Oh, and there’s the rub; are you my friend, Mickey? That’s all I need to hear.’
‘That’s a stupid question… I don’t even know who you are.’
‘Oh no, it’s a very important question. You see, you appear to have a foot in both camps. So I need to find out if you’re my friend. Because… well, if not, there’s really only one alternative.’
‘How about you tell me who the hell you are and why it matters to you what company I keep and then maybe I can…’
‘It’s very simple, Mickey. Really it is. They are like two sides of the same coin, young Grace… and Long. I’ll give you a little time to figure it all out. And when you do, I’d rather you got back to me to confirm I can count on you, than having to discover from someone else that I can’t. Believe me, by then it’ll be too late.’
‘You don’t frighten me, you bastard…’
‘Look Mickey, how can I put this? If you find Herbert Long in any way menacing, I can protect you from him; that’s a promise. And if you think he’s capable of making your life really difficult, at a stroke, I can make things very simple for you. But… if you think you can stand against me and that I couldn’t change your life in a way that is… profoundly uncomfortable, then
I urge you to reconsider.’
‘So you want me to drop Herb… or else, what exactly?’
‘Well, we tend to settle our differences… how should I say? Indirectly. You see I have no interest in hurting you. Like you said, we hardly know each other… okay, perhaps that’s only half true. Sometimes people need a bit of encouragement, and I find the best way is to make sure that those they love the most… stay safe and sound.’
‘You leave Grace alone!’
‘Oh, that’s funny, Mickey. I could almost say the same to you. You’re probably fed up with hearing that. No, I won’t intervene on that score. At least as long as it makes her happy. And just to reassure you, I have no intention of harming a single hair on her head. No, I was thinking of someone much closer to home. Perhaps… Mrs Field might be surprised if one of my associates were to pay her a visit.’
‘Leave my wife out of this, you bastard.’
‘Yes, of course… there’s that Mrs Field too. And I would have put money on you thinking of family first… poor old dear, all on her own down there in Gravesend. Maybe blood isn’t thicker than water after all. I’ve never understood what that meant, have you? Probably best not to dwell on it. I’m sure you’d rather not find out. Anyway, it’s useful to know you still care about her too… Samantha, isn’t it? Or maybe you call her Sam…’
I open my mouth to speak, but my vocal chords have turned to sawdust and nothing audible comes out.
‘I know you’re still there. If not for the deafening silence I might have thought you’d left me hanging. No, I expect you’re just wondering how I know so much – well-connected, like I said. And you’re probably worrying what else I might have on you. So you should be… Anyway, give it some thought Mickey. You’ve got my number; don’t be a stranger.’ The line goes dead long before I lower the phone from my ear.
Scenting Danger
When Melville calls back an hour later I’m still feeling very exposed, though at least now fully clothed. He says he wants to meet up again and wonders if I’d mind him coming to my house. He says it’s nothing to worry unduly about and it relates to some other lines of enquiry. He sounds very courteous and, I might even go so far as to say, quite friendly, but the word unduly stands out like it’s written in capitals. He says he’ll be here at three this afternoon.
He arrives unfashionably on the dot. He’s sitting in the lounge while I make some tea.
‘You’ve got a nice place,’ he says when I come in with the tray.
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m glad Grace has found someone she feels she can trust.’
‘Yeah.’ I’m not sure what else to say to that.
‘She can trust you, can’t she Mr Field?’
‘Call me Mickey,’ I say, and try to nod reassuringly.
‘She’s not had it easy, you know.’
‘No. I suppose not.’
‘I’ve known her a while.’
‘So she said.’ I shift uncomfortably on the sofa, irritably pulling the cushion from behind my back and shoving it out of the way.
‘I suppose... I’ve been like an older brother.’
‘That’s good to know,’ I say, relieved but hoping not to sound it.
‘It’s just... I couldn’t stand by and see her getting hurt.’
‘You don’t need to worry about that.’
‘Good,’ he says. ‘I’m glad we understand each other.’ He sips his tea and then throws me by asking if he can use the bathroom.
‘Uh, yeah,’ I say, almost getting up before sitting back and nodding enthusiastically, as if needing to confirm it’s a perfectly natural thing for him to ask. ‘Across the hall, door on the left.’
He seems to be in there a long time and I’m left sitting in my own lounge, anxiously twiddling my thumbs, like I’m waiting for the plumber to come in and tell me how much it’ll cost to fix a dripping ballcock. Then a smile creases my face as I hear the loo flush and remember all of Grace’s smalls hanging up to dry over the bath. Maybe it’s all to do with male hormones and animal instincts, but the thought of him fighting his way through her knickers and bras in the intimate sanctuary of my lair gives me renewed confidence.
‘So, is that all you came to see me for?’ I say as he comes into the room. He looks back down the hall and turns to me, puzzled. ‘No, I didn’t mean… I meant… to see that I was treating her well?’
‘Look, I’ll come to the point, Mr Field,’ he says, returning to his seat. ‘I’m very concerned for her safety.’
‘Well you really don’t need to be,’ I say. ‘And if you don’t mind me saying, this is all a bit beyond the call of duty, isn’t it? Coming here to check the place out, with your not-so-subtle threats and accusing me of putting her in danger.’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ he says, holding up a calming hand. ‘It’s not you I’m concerned about.’
‘Who then?’ I lean forward and massage the creases in my forehead.
‘Terry Pinner’s a very powerful man,’ he says, and reaches across to take a fly biscuit from the plate I’d brought in on the tray. I hate them; the packet’s been in the cupboard for months.
‘Sure. I’ve already had the pleasure, remember? So I know he’s a thug.’ I wait for him to jump to defend his boss but he doesn’t.
‘It’s not just him.’ He says it with an intensity that makes my head jolt.
‘I’m not sure what you’re saying… Grace seems to be able to keep Pinner off her back.’
He nods like he knows what I mean. ‘All the same, he’s a very powerful man.’
‘Like I said...’
‘But there’s always someone more powerful, Mr Field.’ He’s choosing his words carefully, and keeps looking down as if he doesn’t really want to be telling me this.
‘What, like up the chain of command?’
‘No… not necessarily,’ he says.
‘So... where?’
‘You should be more concerned about people outside the force than within it.’
I wait for him to elaborate. Instead, he puts a hand across his mouth as if to prevent anything else coming out. ‘Come on! You’re going to have to give us more than that, surely? It’s not much of a warning if you can’t be specific.’
‘Just look out for her, will you?’ he says. ‘And you. You should be on your guard too.’
‘Is it Herb Long we need to be wary of?’ All my wolverine bravado of two minutes ago has evaporated. Now I’m a lamb and he’s the shepherd.
‘Long’s a toerag, make no mistake,’ he says, finishing his tea. ‘But even he’s not quite the monster some would have you believe. Even though he might swim with the sharks, he’s as much a target in all this… though I’d hesitate to call him a victim.’
‘What do you mean in all this?’
‘Look Mr Field, this is an ongoing investigation. You’ll understand I can’t comment further.’ He’s fiddling with his phone and then starts to get up like he’s ready to leave, but I have to get him to trust me enough to keep him talking.
‘Mum told you he’d contacted me,’ I say as he stands up. I stay seated. ‘It was a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Yes, she did. But I got the impression yesterday you didn’t want to talk about it.’
‘I know, but what you just said… He told me he was being blackmailed.’ As I say it he sits back down. ‘We met to discuss a proposition. It was a job he wanted me to do. Break into a house and recover a camera. I agreed to do it.’
‘Are you sure you want to tell me about it?’ he says, fumbling for his notebook. ‘There’s only so far I can go with this, off the record.’
‘Bear with me,’ I say. ‘I didn’t break any laws. It turned out the place was his and it was all a prank. Anyway, I did the job and suddenly the joke’s on Herb because Grace had been following me in an attempt to get closer to him, thinking he might be her real father, like she said yesterday. Then, would you believe, she recognises the camera and it’s her photographs that are on it. It was all
a big mystery until she finally got to meet him.’
‘It didn’t sound like that went very well.’
‘No. As far as Herb’s concerned she’s Pinner’s daughter and he saw an opportunity to use me to bring her to him.’
‘What for?’
‘Well, not for tea and biscuits,’ I say and offer him the plate.
Melville sits forward, declines another stale garibaldi and thinks for a while.
I say I’ll make another cup of tea, and when I come back in with the tray he’s on the phone, so I leave him to it and use the toilet myself. I know that’s how a dog shows dominance, by urinating where another one’s already been, but really I just want to put Grace’s things away in case he needs to go in there again before he leaves.
‘Mr Field,’ he calls and this time when I go in the lounge he’s standing up again. ‘I’m sorry, I need to head back.’
Just as I think I’ve failed to get any more information from him, he hands me a scrap of yellow paper he’s taken from my pile.
‘You didn’t get this from me,’ he says, and without waiting for me to read it, heads out of the room. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
I unfold the paper.
RAYMOND RIGGS
Who the hell is Raymond Riggs? As I look up, a ribbon of bird shit splats across the front window and I grimace.
Red Rag
Grace doesn’t get back until almost half six. I was getting worried and had already left two messages. She lets herself in with the key I gave her. We agreed she shouldn’t go back to her flat for the time being, and I’ve told her to make herself at home. She puts her head around the doorway and beams. I smile back with relief and want to give her a hug, but all I can do is nod as she holds up a bunch of fresh flowers. I put my hand over the phone and tell her where she’ll find a vase in the kitchen.
‘Okay, thanks. Monday at ten forty-five,’ I say and hang up.
Mickey Take: When a debt goes bad... Page 25
