A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2)

by Edward Holmes

  It was my turn to laugh. This man who elicited such fear in the people I had met and others in the area was not the first drug dealer I'd encountered or dealt with, he probably wasn't even the richest but everyone had to be treated differently. Some like to be the biggest in the room and are overly aggressive, others have delusions of grandeur believing themselves smarter than the rest. Yes, it was intimidating knowing that there were armed men around me and back when I was in the force I doubt he would have approached me directly but it was a new experience and one I was sadly enjoying, “I guess it is out of necessity you are here tonight then or are you here to support Fraser?”

  “Max doesn't need my support, I'd doubt the old bastard would accept it anyway. That man scared the crap out of me when I was growing up.”

  “The man speaks highly of you. Like the son he never had sort of defence of your character.”

  I thought I was doing well making the man laugh yet again, “Fraser saying something nice about me? I doubt it. I never really knew my old fella. He pissed off the wrong people and ended up being dragged out the Mersey a bloated corpse. Just another one of those men who fell through the cracks after the war. Came back with training and a gun and no other skills, what else is he gonna do to put food on the table than try a few blags.”

  “So you decided to go into the family business?”

  Saul gave me a sly look as if to decide whether I was being witty or actually insulting him, “You could say that. That's how I ended up in Fraser's gym. I was too young and stupid to realise that a gym like that wasn't going to have a lot of cash on the premises. Went in with a gun my dad brought home from the Army and next minute it was getting ripped out of my hands and I was on the floor with a broken nose.”

  “Sounds about right for Fraser.”

  “It wasn't him. Tony taught me more than he ever did, he was the one who took the weapon away from me and said he would give it back when I earned it. I went that gym everyday for the next five years trying to prove myself and get my hands on it. By the end I was going more for the boxing than the gun,” he said reminiscing, his eyes looking out and beyond the ring and back to his days in the gym.

  “Must have been a big day when you finally got it back,” I said trying to placate his worries about my intentions a little.

  “Funny, this is the first time I've talked about all that in years and you know what I don't think I ever did get it back. By the time I stopped going the gym I could get a gun easy. I tried not to use them but easier said then done, eh.”

  I nodded, “So I guess you are here for business.”

  “In a way. There's a lot of friction at the moment. People don't trust each other and from my sources I've heard that some of the less level headed members of gangs are preparing for all out war. Grenades are being passed around like sweets to anyone and everyone and there's talk of contracts out. The last thing this city needs is another set of civilians being caught in the crossfire.”

  “And the last thing your business needs is more police on the streets.”

  “I'm beginning to like you, Harper. You say it as you see it, and since you're not on the job any more I don't really have a problem speaking my mind in front of you. More busies on the beat make it more likely some product will get picked up but they can't stop it all and it just gives the dealers a reason to increase prices. Basic economics in play.”

  I smiled and shook my head. Although I'd for all intents and purposes given up my badge it didn't mean that I wanted this man free from prison. I might not be the nicest of people but my morals are rather strong. Still at the moment Saul was the lesser of two evils; he wasn't threatening me away and although the intelligent gangster routine wore on me I was willing to go down the rabbit hole to help Tom Morrison, “So why are you speaking to me then? Surely you've got better things to be doing with your time, and I really don't buy the vested interest in the city crap.”

  “When the first couple of bodies dropped it didn't bother me, why should it? Gangs have wars, kids get clipped. However when people I know get targeted because they are easy game playing footie, I take note,” Saul gritted his teeth as he spoke, his fists clenched tight as he rested them on his thighs.

  “Which is why you rang Fraser, to help out your friend.”

  “Begrudgingly, I rang Tony a couple of times but you know what the elderly are like with phones, he never heard it or he was out at the pub. I managed to get hold of Fraser though and told him he would be doing me a big favour if he helped out. Probably saved the man's life.”

  I noted he didn't say who the man was even though Saul was apparently speaking candidly in front of me, must be the old habits dying hard, “Another good Samaritan.”

  Hawksworth's opponent slumped in his corner, bloodied after another brutal round where he had done little against the experienced young fighter. The respite in the fight made Saul turn towards me, giving me his full attention, “You're a funny man but don't push your luck. I'm here talking to you because I want the bastard who is shooting people caught. When I spoke to Fraser, he mentioned you'd been around. Then I see you on the telly chasing down that nutter. So I think you are the best person to find this little prick.”

  “There's a whole police force doing the same thing.”

  “Yeah, I could buy my way in and find out what they know, or maybe I already have and they have sod all. No, I've looked into you and as much as I hate to say it you seem to be a good copper. Just find out who is doing this.”

  “Then what? Give him over to you so you can be the hero on the streets? I've heard the stories, the myths and legends you've let grow over the years.”

  Saul shook his head, “You think that I'm a bad man and with your experience there is no surprise in that, but I do care what is going on for a business sake as well as a sentimental attachment to this place. You do what you need to do with this scumbag but I want him gone.”

  I looked at the man and then back at the ring as the gears worked in my head. Saul just wanted the same thing I did but it could do no harm for me if he thought I was helping him. It would be a fine line to tread in the future but having his support meant less to worry about from the locals and a step into the circle of silence that the community was within could only help my investigation, “Ok well if I'm working under your patronage, what does it entail?”

  “My protection. You can use my name if you want to talk to anyone you suspect knows something. That itself carries a lot of weight. Other than that, I don't think there is much else I can do to help your investigation.”

  “Alright but something from you,” the fight had restarted but he was still looking at me, raising his eyebrows before shrugging in acceptance and for me to carry on, “I'll need some information from the people you know, nothing dangerous to operations but enough to help me out. I also need you to forget anything about that journalist Camille Jarvis for the time being, and to that end, I'll make sure she shuts her mouth. Finally I need someone connected within the Elsworth Warriors with weight to go to see Tommy Morrison, the kid who is in the nick for the first shooting and get him to recant his confession.”

  “The first thing I can't do these people will not speak to a copper even if you are retired. The journalist is of no concern to me so do what you like there. The final thing is a little tricky; no one in that gang is going to exactly want to walk into the lion’s den to just pass on a message from me especially since there is some friction within their command.”

  “I'm sure you can make it work,” I said offering him a smile and my hand. Saul looked at the ring briefly watching as Hawksworth landed a powerful right hook, ending the fight, before taking my hand. A deal with the devil sealed with a knockout punch.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  The crowd was still cheering as Saul left me. Hawksworth was having the title belt wrapped around his narrow but muscular waist to adulatory applause, the audience proud of his achievement and as much as I was proud of mine. I’d stared down a very dangerou
s man in Big Saul and I'd come out of it standing. I knew that there was more to the man, that siding with him put me in a difficult position but this case had taken a whole new direction. Yes, I still wanted to free Morrison, that was what I was hired to do, but there was a killer on the streets and I had to do everything in my power to stop them from hurting anyone else.

  I'd seen the news reports, how people had welcomed the vigilante justice that had taken drug dealers from their streets even if it meant bloodshed. I understood that, they wanted a better quality of life and when it is the wicked and evil drug pushers getting whacked they could turn a blind eye and say, hell they deserve it. But when a young couple dies at the hands of a gunman things change. People don't tolerate innocents losing their lives; it could easily have been themselves or a loved one on the street that night. Now they wanted justice.

  Ambling down the stand I walked back to the bar and called Camille. I didn't leave a message, my hatred of automated voicemail systems prejudiced me from making a comment, and I was more than aware that it could be hacked into. Instead I sent her a message on one of those free chat systems. Luckily for me, Harris had installed it on my phone so I could keep in contact when it called for silence. It was only a short message but was sure to garner me some brownie points:

  Found the pistol used in the shooting on the couple, an old Webley. In police hands as we speak, should provide you with some good copy. Saw your mystery villain, have warned him off so be good for now. All the best Harper xx

  The kisses were excessive but I thought it was a nice touch. After all I'd still rather send a letter than some sort of text message. I ordered another pint of beer and stood to one side watching the crowd. The night had lead to more intoxication and I watched new couples slink off to the quieter corners, envious eyes following them. Attractive, well-dressed women on the arms of men that had more performance enhancing drugs in them than a cyclist in the Tour de France batted their eyes at onlookers. Smaller, less defined men, stealing glances at them over the edges of their plastic drink containers, stood in semi-circular groups; a protective buffer from other men.

  It was all very animalistic, as if the testosterone of seeing fighters pummel each other had somehow managed to make them all revert back to a more basic mindset. The adrenaline in my system was doing the same thing; I was invigorated by my encounter with Saul and stood taller than my usual posture. I felt bigger, stronger.

  “You been enjoying the fights?” the gruff voice of Tony asked from behind me.

  I turned slowly, “Yeah it's been fun.”

  “I saw you with Saul. Be careful when dealing with him. The lad's smart but he's got a temper on him as well.”

  Nodding I replied, “He speaks highly of you. Taming him when he had a gun, that takes some serious guts.”

  Tony shrugged his shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world disarming someone, “He was just a kid. With those weedy little arms of his I doubt he would have been even strong enough to pull the trigger. Hell, he was shaking like a leaf when he raised it.”

  “Still it's rather impressive.”

  “I sometimes wonder if I hadn't have stopped him then and trained him up if things wouldn't have gone differently. I'm not happy with what he became, Mister Harper,” his eyes looked away from mine briefly, “But I’m proud that he is still here. I know Max struggles with it as well.”

  “Where is your partner in crime?”

  Tony frowned slightly as if trying to figure out if I was joking or not before saying, “He's gone home and I doubt I'll see much of him for a couple of days. It's the way he unwinds after putting fighters in the ring, by going into hiding. When he comes back though, everything has gone through that mind of his and he's got some good ideas for the future. Every one of those boys know that their training only gets better and harder after Max has his hermit stage.”

  “Seems unusual.”

  The old man just shrugged, “Everyone has their own ways. A couple of years ago we had a set of fighters who used to tell us they would be going the physio to relax. It took about a year to figure out it was code.”

  “Code for what?”

  “Going to see a prozzie,” he laughed. I was slightly shocked but smiled and nodded, “we rarely let them have time off when in training. No one is going to go to the pub for a pint and risk ruining all of the exercise and diet, but some need a release so going to a brothel or hiring a escort is fine by them.”

  “What about that whole 'no sex before a fight' rule? Surely Max is one of those old school trainers.”

  “You're right if he found out he would've probably given them hell. Just because we are partners, doesn't mean we tell each other everything,” Tony said with a wink, “He works the guys hard and I'm the one that patches them up, be that physically or mentally.”

  I caught myself gently rubbing my beard in thought, “Sounds like a difficult job.”

  “More so than you would expect. Anyway how goes the investigation?”

  I liked Tony and I knew full well that he had his own sources of information that would relay anything I had back to him so it didn't bother me speaking candidly to him, “It's coming along. Saul has a lot of connections, hopefully he can help me out with finding who is doing this.”

  “You're a brave man, Harper, just be wary of what he says and does. Saul does what is best for himself. From what I hear he's hired a couple of …..”

  Tony's words were cut off as a burly gentleman was thrown through the glass door on our left and between the two of us. Outside, another muscle bound man was staring at him with blood dribbling down his face from a cut above the eye, ruining his designer t-shirt. Our conversation and the walls at the side had prevented us from noticing the commotion occurring in front of the sports hall. Groups of young men brawled on the ground and the bloke who had landed at our feet quickly ran back into the fray, tackling the man who threw him to the ground and punching him mercilessly.

  The security for the event ran from inside the hall to break up the fighting but quickly retreated under a hail of body blows and thrown bottles and cans of alcohol. I stood at the side staring out at the mass of men, maybe fifteen to twenty involved in the action. Nearby, others egged them on, cheering much as they had done when watching the trained fighters in the ring. Some recorded the event on their phones, hoping to enjoy the action later and somehow separating themselves from the brutality of what was happening.

  Tony crossed his arms and I wondered why he didn't wade in to try and stop the fighting. He knew that this would be in the papers the next morning, overshadowing any good that had happened at the event. The titles changing hands would be forgotten beneath the bloodied teeth of a knocked out punter. Personally I was content to just stand there and let it peter out but then I saw the glint of a knife blade and my training took over.

  The armed man swung out viciously at someone catching his opponent’s chest, slicing through fabric and flesh, resulting in a scream of agony from a very large male. People moved away from the blade. My eyes rested on it but I assessed the holder, a young man, weedy and very pale, with hints of spots on his face suggesting less than adequate personal hygiene. The hooded sweatshirt he was wearing hid most of the top of his head but as I got closer as others retreated away from him I recognised the lad as Alex, one of the youths I had met when I first arrived in the city.

  With my hands raised I got closer to him, “Come on Alex, be clever about this, drop the knife,” I pleaded feeling a sense of déjà vu.

  “I’m sick and tired of these Raky scum thinking they can come here and push us around. They’re the bastards shooting people but we get blamed for it all the time.”

  Realising there was more to the fighting than just alcohol I acted quicker than I wanted. Instead of trying to talk the man down I slapped his right hand which held the blade away with my right and punched him square in the nose. It didn’t break but blood spurted from it and his head rocked back. I grabbed Alex by the wrist and, ta
king the weapon from him, I threw the young man over my shoulder and put my knee in his back after he landed heavily on the tarmac.

  “Everyone needs to chill the fuck out!” I shouted to the assembled group. It is a rarity that I swear, unless it is absolutely necessary as I try to avoid most profanity but my frustrations on the case and the fact that these people had turned on one another pushed me too far, “Ladies and gentlemen as you can tell I’m not from around here and I don’t care where the hell you are from, be it east side, west side or bloody far side, but this violence has to stop. There is a madman out there shooting people and because no one will break this stubborn code of silence, they are getting away with murder. You shouldn’t be assigning blame to each other, you should be out there trying to help find this gunman.”

  I looked around trying to see if my words had any effect on the people but they seemed just as agitated and angry as before. However Tony stepped out from the centre, “He’s right, break this up. So all you little smackheads piss off, this night is about dedication and professional fighters. You disrespect them by scrapping.”

  “Hell you say old man,” one of the youths close to him said swinging a green glass bottle but Tony still had enough skills and speed to knock the lad out with a fierce punch, more than equalling my own attack from earlier.

  The hooded man hit the ground in a crumpled mess and I was worried that it would kick off once again, “You need to work as a community to stop this violence and the best way to do that is to walk away right now.”

  One of the scantily clad women took a step forward, “Yeah and let you send more of us to prison,” she said pointing at Alex who still lay at my feet.

  The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance and I was feeling the uneasy stare of a large group of people who were expectant of my decision. Briefly I looked down at Alex as I was presented with the dilemma of what to do with the knife attacker. Assessing my situation, I stood up from the kneeling position I was in and offered the young man my hand. He reluctantly took it and I helped him to his feet. When he was standing, I whispered into his ear, the blade in my hand close to his stomach, “I’m letting you off here but if I find out you’ve done anything like this again I will gut you like a fish. That or I’ll just have a word with my friend Big Saul and see what he wants to do.”