by Mark Timlin
Tubbs nodded, looked inside the bag and riffled the notes. 'All here?' he asked.
'Course. And this bugger's loaded with hollow points,' replied Mark, handing him the pistol.
Tubbs dropped the magazine out of the Browning, checked that the chamber was clear, replaced the clip and racked a round into the breech, weighing the gun in his massive hand where it looked like a toy. 'Feels good,' he said. Then he took out his phone, dialled a number and waited for an answer. It was picked up quickly. 'It's me,' he said. 'I've got what you want.'
He listened for a moment.
'About twenty minutes. I'll be there,' he said, then killed the connection. 'It's on.'
'Then let's go,' said Mark. 'Later, Uncle.'
'I wish I was going with you. I'd show those spades what for. No offence, Tubbs.'
'None taken, John.'
'I'll wait up. We'll have a drink when you get back.'
'Sounds like a plan,' said Mark, glad he'd said 'when' rather than 'if.
'He looks bad,' said Tubbs, once they were outside.
'He is,' was all Mark said.
He dropped Tubbs off at the BMW and watched as he drove off before following. He knew where Tubbs was going so he kept well back, the bright colour of his friend's car being easy to spot even after dark. Tubbs drove up to Streatham High Road, took a right down Brixton Hill, past the prison where Jimmy Hunter slept the sleep of the unjust, and along to Brixton Town Hall, opposite where Mark's^ life and so many others had changed all those years before. But he thought of none of this as he followed his old friend on what could turn out to be the last drive of his life.
Back at the house, John Jenner was dozing in front of the TV. He hoped the boys would be all right. Mark was OK, but he didn't know about Tubbs. He'd been too long out of the game. They needed an ally. If only his old friend Nick Sharman was about. He was the kind of bloke they needed. Sharman. Bloody hell, what a chancer.
Jenner remembered the first time they'd met. It had been on the recommendation of John's brief, when he'd been looking for an easy way out of a sticky situation.
In those days, the early 80s, the pubs shut at three in the afternoon and the landlord of the Three Dials in Kennington Lane called time on the dot and made short shrift of the few remaining drinkers, so that by three- fifteen the bar was empty except for John Jenner, Hazel, Chas and David Lawson, Jenner's lawyer. On the face of it, Lawson was a pillar of the establishment, with his handmade shoes and an office in St James's, but deep down he was as bent as they come. A corrupt and evil man, he hid his dishonesty under suits from Savile Row and shirts and ties from Jermyn Street. Jenner and Chas were wearing jeans and leather jackets, and Hazel looked stunning in a black leather suit and black nylons, her red hair coiled about her shoulders like electric snakes.
The four sat together and waited for DC Sharman to arrive. At three- thirty on the dot there was a rap on the back door and the landlord went through and answered it.
'Punctual. I like that,' said Jenner.
'I think there's a lot about Nick you're going to like,' said Lawson.
'We'll see,' said Jenner.
The man who followed the landlord through into the bar was young, tall, lean, dark haired, and wearing a slim-cut grey sharkskin suit, black, chisel-toed shoes, a white, tab collared shirt with a skinny black tie. His hair was thick and quiffed with gel, and he moved lightly on his feet, sussing out the room as he entered.
'Who the fuck does he think he is?' asked Chas. 'Bryan fucking Ferry?'
Hazel shushed Chas as the young policeman came over to the table and stood silently in front of the quartet, a slight smile on his handsome face.
Lawson stood and shook his hand. 'Nick,' he said. 'Good of you to come.'
'David,' said Sharman in reply. 'Not a problem. Always a pleasure to see you.'
'Gentlemen,' said the lawyer. 'May I introduce Detective Constable Nick Sharman? Nick, this is John Jenner, his wife Hazel, and one of his associates, name of Chas.'
'Delighted,' said Sharman, solemnly shaking hands all round. When he got to Hazel he held her fingers for just a beat too long.
She didn't seem to mind, but John Jenner's eyes narrowed. 'Nick,' he said. 'I wonder if you'd mind Chas making sure it's only us who're going to hear this conversation?'
'You think I might be wired?' asked Sharman, seeming greatly amused at the prospect.
'It's a possibility.'
'Fair enough.' The policeman raised his arms and Chas patted him down, then stepped back and shook his head. 'Clean,' he said.
'My apologies,' said Jenner.
'No problem,' came the reply.
'Please sit,' said Jenner.
Sharman did so, pulling a packet of Silk Cut and a brass Zippo from his pocket. He offered them round, and all but Lawson accepted. He flicked on the lighter, lit all four, Hazel's first, and dropped it back on the table. As he did so the cuff of his shirt slid back revealing a Rolex watch with a metal bracelet. Sharman saw them notice and smiled.
'Drink?' asked Jenner.
'Scotch,' replied the detective.
'Four large ones,' Jenner said to the landlord. 'And a vodka and orange for Hazel. Then get lost.'
The landlord set about making the screwdriver just as Hazel liked it. Lots of ice, a slice of lemon, a large vodka and a bottle of Britvic orange in a tall glass. He served her first then went back to the bar, brought over four clean glasses, a bottle of malt and a jug of water on a tray, set them out, cleared away the dirty pots, put them on the counter, and left.
'And don't come back 'til you're told,' added Jenner without thanks. 'And don't be fucking earwigging or Chas'll have your legs.'
When the men's glasses were charged and 'cheers' had been exchanged, Jenner leant forward and said: 'We've never met, but David here has said good things about you, Nick. You don't mind me calling you Nick, do you?'
'No problem,' replied Sharman around the edge of his glass. 'But we did meet once.'
'When?' asked Jenner with a frown. He didn't like not knowing.
'A couple of years back, when I was in uniform,' said Sharman. 'I gave you a parking ticket round the back of the Elephant. Nice old Aston Martin, as I remember.'
'And we spoke?'
'Yeah. You tore up the ticket and threw it at me, called me a cunt too. Excuse my language, Mrs Jenner.'
There was a moment's silence, then the company roared with laughter. 'Did I pay it?' asked Jenner.
'David did, as I recall,' replied the cop.
'Probably,' said Lawson. 'Just one of the perks of the job. Clearing up after John.' 'No hard feelings, I hope, Nick?' said Jenner.
'I could've done you for assault,' said Sharman. 'But when I checked out the registration and found out it was you I decided not to. I reckoned one day we might meet again, and maybe to our mutual advantage.'
'And here you are,' said the older man.
'Here I am,' said Sharman.
'And David says you've got something to sell.'
'Well, hot exactly sell,' said the policeman. 'More like hire. When you need them, if you know what I mean.'
'Maybe,' said Jenner. 'What is it exactly?'
Rather than answer immediately, Sharman said: 'I've only been married for a little while. And wives are expensive.' He smiled at Hazel who smiled back. 'And she wants to have a baby. Even more expense. And I've got a few other expenses too.'
'Like what?'
'I like nice things. Clothes…' He touched the lapel of his jacket that was so sharp it almost cut him '…and a decent motor.'
'And a decent watch,' said Lawson.
'Exactly.' Then he sniffed exaggeratedly.
'And a bit of hokey cokey, I'll bet,' said Chas, entering the conversation for the first time.
'There is that,' said Sharman and, as he said it, the sun went in and the bar darkened and the four others at the table saw that there was something of the night about the young policeman. But something of the night was a trait they all shared.
'So,' said Jenner.
'So, what I earn isn't enough to keep me and my new missus in the way we'd like to become accustomed.'
'So?' said Jenner again.
Sharman reached into the top pocket of his jacket and fished out a leather folder and tossed it on to the table. It flipped open and inside was his warrant card. 'So that's for hire,' he said. 'And this.' He put his foot on an empty chair next to him, pulled up his trouser leg and pulled out a short-barrelled.38 revolver from an ankle holster and gently placed it beside his glass and cigarettes as the three men stiffened and Chas went as if to reach inside his coat. Hazel put a restraining hand on his arm.
'Relax,' she said. 'We're all friends here, I hope. Or, will be soon. And you can call me, Hazel, Nick.'
Sharman smiled at her again, then turned to Chas. 'You missed that,' he said. 'Could've been a transmitter.'
Chas just sat in his seat and seethed.
'You can use that?' asked Jenner, nodding at the gun and ignoring Chas's discomfort.
'I can.'
'Have you ever?'
'Used it? Of course. On the range. I'm a bloody marksman.'
'But not in anger.'
'That's for me to know.'
'And they just let you walk around with one?'
'There's an operation on later. I told them I was off to see a snout and had this issued early. But I could use one of my own.'
'I think we might be able to help you there,' said Jenner. 'But how much will all this cost us?'
'Depends,' said Sharman thoughtfully. 'Depends what you need doing.'
'Like a sliding scale?' said Lawson.
'Exactly,' the policeman replied, slipping the gun and the warrant card back from where they'd come. 'A sliding scale. That'll do nicely.'
'As a matter of fact, there is something,' said Jenner, topping up his glass. 'I'm up on charges at the Bailey in a few weeks.'
'I know,' replied Sharman.
'Serious charges. I only got bail thanks to the work of my friend here.' He gestured at Lawson who grinned like the Cheshire cat. 'I've done a little remand and I don't like it inside.'
Sharman nodded.
'And if your lot get a result I'm going away for a while.' 'A long while,' said Sharman.
'Yeah, maybe,' said Jenner, narrowing his eyes. 'And I wouldn't like that. I'd miss my family. But that's not the point.'
'I would've thought that was exactly the point,' said the Detective Constable.
'There's a witness,' said Jenner. 'A young man who took advantage of our good natures and then reneged.'
'Laurie Skinner?' said Sharman.
Jenner smiled. 'You have been doing your homework.'
'Word gets around. Gossip, you know.'
'More than gossip, I would've thought.' Jenner again.
Sharman nodded once more.
'The young man in question, I can hardly bear to mention his name, has gone to ground. I think perhaps your lot think he might be interfered with if he was walking the streets,' said Jenner.
'A possibility,' agreed Sharman.
'Any ideas where he might be?' asked Lawson.
Sharman shook his head. 'Need to know,' he said.
'And you don't,' said Jenner.
Sharman shook his head for a second time.
'You see, it would be ideal if the charges just went away,' said Jenner.
'Something nasty would have to happen to the witness for that to occur,' said Sharman.
'Very nasty.' Jenner again.
Sharman smiled. 'But of course, you'd need the address where he's at for that to happen.'
Jenner nodded.
'And that could be arranged?' asked Lawson.
'If the price was right,' said Sharman.
'What could you do?' interrupted Chas. 'You're just a DC. The lowest of the low.'
Sharman smiled. 'Like I said, if the price is right, all sorts of things could happen.' 'And the price would be?' asked Jenner.
'Ten.'
'Ten what?' said Chas.
'Well, not ten pence,' the copper said.
'Ten grand,' said Lawson.
'That'd be right.'
'And you could sort it out for us?'
'I could try.'
'Trying's not good enough,' said Chas.
'I think you'd find it was if it was me trying.'
'David,' said Jenner.
Lawson picked up his briefcase, laid it on the table, opened it and produced an envelope which he tossed on the table. 'There's five thousand there in small, used notes,' he said. 'Have that for now and let's see what happens.'
Sharman picked up the bulging envelope, peered inside but didn't count the money, then slid it into his inside jacket pocket. 'You came prepared. You must've been sure of me. That's fine. Thanks. I'll be in touch.'
'Make sure you are,' said Chas. 'That's a lot of bread.'
Sharman acknowledged him with a nod. 'Well, I've got to be getting back,' he said after a few moments. 'Like I said. We've got an operation on today.'
'Nothing we should know about, I hope,' said Jenner.
'No,' said the policeman. 'Nothing for you to worry about.'
'Good. 'Cos if it was…' Jenner didn't finish the sentence.
'You'd be the first to know,' said Sharman. 'As long as…' He paused, rubbed the first finger and thumb of his right hand together.
'Naturally,' said David Lawson.
'Well, cheers then, gentlemen. And Mrs Jenner… Hazel,' Sharman finished his drink in a swallow and pocketed his cigarettes and lighter. 'I'll be in touch.'
'Soon, I hope,' said Jenner.
'As soon as,' said the policeman, and with a merry wave he went out the back way.
'What do you think?' Lawson asked, addressing his question mainly to John Jenner.
'He's a flash bastard,' said Chas.
'You're just pissed off because you missed his gun. You should be more careful, son,' said Jenner.
Chas said nothing in reply, but they could all see how tightly his teeth were gritted, and how red his face was getting, a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
'Getting old, mate?' asked Jenner with a grin. 'But I'll give you that, Chas. Flash, he certainly is. Maybe too flash for comfort.'
'But useful,' said Lawson. 'Potentially very useful.'
'He's very handsome,' said Hazel.
'I saw you noticed,' said her husband. 'And he noticed you. All teeth and smiles. "You can call me Hazel." Sometimes I don't believe you.'
'So I should hope he noticed me,' she said. 'Being the only woman in the room.'
'I'm surprised you didn't volunteer to shake him down yourself,' said Jenner.
'Maybe I should've done,' replied his wife. 'I might've found his gun.' She winked at Chas, but his face just got redder.
'So what does your woman's intuition say?' asked Jenner.
'He'll do,' she replied. 'He's got an eye for the ladies, that's for sure. Clothes, coke and cars probably aren't his only expenses.'
'I believe there are a couple of mysteries in his life,' said Lawson. 'Of the female persuasion.'
'That's handy,' said Jenner. 'A little something we know that he won't want his new wife to. Something to keep him in line. Have you used him yet?'
'Just for small things,' replied Lawson. 'Penny ante stuff. Getting a few addresses. Things like that.' 'So let's see how he does with Skinner.'
'I reckon he might be doing us up,' said Chas. 'He'll be noticed, wearing clothes like that and a watch like that. I reckon he's on the cross.'
'A double agent, you mean?' said Lawson.
'Yeah.'
'Maybe, maybe not,' said Jenner. 'He's flash, you're right there, Chas. But I reckon he's corkscrew. Double bent. He reminds me of us ten years ago. Let him have his head, David. And when he's in too deep we'll have him.'
'No problem, John,' said Lawson. 'No problem at all.'
It was only a matter of days before the bent brief heard from the young policeman. 'Got a bit of
news for you,' said Sharman when he called Lawson on his private line.
'What exactly?'
'Not on the dog. Let's meet.'
'When?'
'Soon as you like.'
'Tomorrow,' said Lawson, and he gave a time and location. Lawson met Sharman alone at the Sweet Bird Of Youth public house in Mayfair the following lunchtime. 'Nice place,' said the policeman as the lawyer joined him just after two.
'One of my locals,' said Lawson, ordering a gin and tonic for himself and a refill for Sharman's scotch, before they found a quiet corner table in the busy pub.
'It's all right for some. My locals leave a lot to be desired.'
'That's police work for you.'
'Too true.'
'So what's the news?'
'It's a tricky one. The robbery squad have got Skinner tied down tight.'
'Where?'
Sharman grinned, showing white teeth. 'A safe house in Canonbury. But I warn you, there's armed response on hand 24 hours a day, seven days a week. No one wants to lose this fish.' 'Address?'
Sharman told him.
'Good, Nick,' said Lawson.
'Listen,' said Sharman, grabbing him by the cuff of his jacket. 'I don't care about that little shit Skinner. You can do what you want with him. But there's coppers in there with him, and I won't have them hurt, get me?'
'A touch of conscience, Nick?' asked Lawson, freeing the expensive wool and mohair mixture and smoothing the material.
'If you like.'
'Don't come across all pious with us, Nick. If you're in, you're in. If not… Well, John won't be pleased. Chas wasn't keen in the first place, I should warn you. Thought you were too flash.'
'Is that right?'
'It is.'
'How about Mrs Jenner?'
'She liked you fine.'
'Good. And I'm not in the least bit pious, David. Just careful. Just like you should be. A grass - even a supergrass - gets offed, no big deal. There's a bit of a stink for a few weeks, an inquiry, then it's business as usual. But a copper gets hurt and it's like putting on a blender with the top loose. All sorts of shit flies around, anyone in the way gets covered. Tell John to take it easy. Pick his time.'
