Jack by the Hedge (Jack of All Trades Book 4)

by DH Smith

  He held her arm to lead her off. Amy jerked away and spat at Rose. A gobbet landed on the young woman’s cheek, spray pitted her eyes.

  ‘I’ll murder you, you tosspot!’ screeched Amy. ‘You see if I don’t.’

  DC Thomas pulled her away and led her out of the playground.

  Chapter 41

  Jack and Mr Swift had laid two courses of bricks. Jack was working from one end and Mr Swift from the other. They each had a bucket of mortar that Jack topped up from the nearby wheelbarrow as needed. Swift had the expertise; in one movement with the trowel he scooped up exactly the right amount of mortar, while Jack took too much or too little and had to adjust.

  ‘You’re not a bricklayer, are you, son?’ said the old man as they met in the middle.

  ‘I trained as a carpenter,’ said Jack. ‘I don’t do a lot of bricklaying.’

  ‘Your work’s OK,’ said Mr Swift, looking at the bricks Jack had laid. ‘You do your checking with the spirit level OK, but it’s the knack you haven’t got.’

  ‘I never do it long enough,’ said Jack. ‘My last job was shop fitting. My next is some kitchen work. Don’t know when I’ll be a brickie again.’

  ‘No offence,’ said the old man, ‘but I wouldn’t have had you on site. Too slow.’

  Jack shrugged. ‘I’m self employed, so if I’m slow that’s my loss. Long as it’s good enough.’

  ‘Good enough,’ nodded the old man. ‘The mortar’s right, you cleaned the bricks well. You just haven’t got a bricklayer’s speed on the trowel.’ The old man put his trowel down. ‘Do you mind if I take a break?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You’ll never make a foreman.’ He laughed, cutting it short with a wince. ‘These old bones won’t take it.’

  ‘I’ll get you a chair,’ said Jack.

  He went into the yard and to the mess hut. And brought out a chair. He put it down and helped Mr Swift on to it.

  ‘That’s better, son. Too low down those bottom courses.’

  ‘Work to your own time,’ said Jack.

  ‘I know, I know,’ said the old man with a laugh. ‘It’s not as if I’m getting paid.’

  Jack was no longer listening but watching the detective constable and Amy coming down the drive. Her hands were behind her back and she was shuffling along, her clothes awry. DC Thomas was talking into his phone. Jack watched them come in, puzzled.

  ‘What’s up, Amy?’ he called when she was about five metres away.

  She grunted and turned half about, showing the handcuffs.

  ‘What you been up to?’

  She shrugged and came past with her minder talking into his phone. It was police‑speak that Jack could make little sense of. He and Swift watched Amy and the detective make their way to the park gate.

  ‘She’s been arrested,’ exclaimed Swift scratching his chin.

  ‘Yeh. She has,’ said Jack. ‘I wonder what for.’

  ‘Stolen goods, I bet you.’

  Rose was coming towards them. She was wriggling her neck round and round, lifting her arms like a swimmer just before a race. She straightened her overalls as she neared, and did up one of her shoulder toggles.

  ‘What’s going on, Rose?’

  ‘That fat cow would’ve killed me,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She’s been part of a pyramid scheme in the playground. Selling junk scent. Ian was her boss… She came on me like a buffalo charge. If that cop and Liz hadn’t have come, I’d have been smashed to bits.’

  ‘Why you?’

  ‘Because I collected her money. I thought, screw her, I’ll have a piece of this. But two ton Tessie wanted the lot…’ She wriggled her shoulders and grimaced. ‘You wouldn’t like to give my neck a rub, Jack – would you?’

  He held her shoulders, then massaged the back of her neck firmly.

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Ooh, that’s better. Carry on.’ She gave a satisfied murmur. ‘Liz came over with that cop, I didn’t know he was a cop, but I guessed he was maybe investigating. I knew I had to get rid of the money I’d collected or I’d get done along with Amy. So I told them I was collecting the cash to give to Liz and to tell her about the racket.’

  ‘You’re smarter than you look, Rose.’

  ‘Not just a pretty face.’ She pulled away. ‘I can’t stay chatting, Liz is taking my place in the playground while I clean up. The cow spat at me.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘And oh yes, while we’re at it…’ She took out some notes. ‘Your 30 quid, Jack.’

  He took the money. ‘I never expected to see that again.’

  ‘Cheek,’ she said in mock effrontery. ‘Now, we can go out to dinner.’

  Jack laughed. ‘What, with the money you’ve just given me back?’

  ‘No.’ She patted her back pocket. ‘I’m taking you out.’

  ‘Nicked money.’

  ‘Who’s going to know?’ she said with a wink.

  Jack put the money away. Something at least. And a dinner date. Who knows what might follow?

  Rose went to Mr Swift on his chair. She put an arm on his shoulder.

  ‘I’m very sorry about your loss, Mr Swift.’

  ‘Thank you, my dear.’

  ‘I know Ian cared a lot about you,’ she said.

  ‘We were close.’

  ‘Well, living together and all that. You’re going to be very lonely in that cottage.’

  ‘It won’t be the same,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Me on my own in that place.’

  ‘Would you like me to come and stay for a few days, Mr Swift? Cook for you and keep you company.’

  Chapter 42

  Amy arrested. At least it had got rid of the cop, for the time being. But she’d have to phone Mr Greene a second time today. First she’d had to tell him about Ian’s death, and now about the Women Fly Women scam which she only half understood. Quite what she’d actually say to him… Did she need to tell him that Ian was implicated? The captain, presumably receiving money from Amy and most likely others… No, she wouldn’t tell him. Let it come from the police. Speak no ill of the dead.

  Just say Amy had been arrested. She would of course be sacked. No way out of that. Carrying out illegal activities in the park. And Rose was within a hair’s breadth of getting done. She’d been collecting the money! But handed it over sharpish, and told the detective what she knew of the scam. Enough for him to be forgiving with any luck. He certainly wouldn’t believe her tale that she was collecting the money to give to Liz in order to expose Amy.

  But then he didn’t know Rose. The more Liz considered it, the more she was sure that Rose would be alright. Not that she deserved to be, just that she would be.

  When Rose returned to the playground, cleaned up, Liz left her, not wanting to talk.

  ‘Phone calls to make,’ she said and hurried away.

  She went round the park, noting work as she contemplated where she was. Two people gone and Ian part of the Women Fly Women scam. She kept coming back to that. The man she had killed. If she had done nothing then he might well have been arrested today. The irony! And would have far too much on his plate to shop her to the police.

  Presumably, he would have been jailed. Say a year, two, who knows? But then, when he came out, he’d still have the hold over her. On top of it, he’d be homeless, while she had her cottage and so all the more reason to insist on marriage. But in that time, she’d have her qualification. And now she was manager, it shouldn’t be that difficult for her to get hold of her original application form and destroy it. So when Ian was out she’d have been manager for two years, be running an excellent park, have made all the connections, got hold of her application form and burnt it. Who’d listen to the ramblings of a jailbird, with no evidence?

  In a different universe.

  In this one, Ian was dead, and there were suspicious circumstances. When the detective had questioned her about poisons, she almost fell to bits, wondering how much he knew, how much he was pretending to know.<
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  The leaf vac was abandoned on the lawn. She’d have to do it, there was no one else. After she’d finished her wander. The rose garden needed vaccing too. Swish the puddles off the tennis courts. And all before the bigwigs come tomorrow. She crossed to Bill and Zar. They’d dug three quarters of the flower bed.

  ‘What’s happened to Amy?’ asked Bill.

  ‘She’s been arrested,’ she said. ‘She was running a scam in the playground, taking loads of money…’

  ‘I thought she was flash,’ exclaimed Bill. ‘Bought that car two weeks ago.’

  ‘She’ll be sacked, won’t she?’ said Zar.

  ‘Yes, and probably jailed.’

  ‘Cor,’ said Bill, ‘we’re going down like blackfly under the thumb.’ He turned to Zar. ‘You not about to get fingered?’

  ‘As if I’d tell you,’ said the young man with a grin.

  ‘I’d like both beds dug today,’ said Liz. ‘If I give you a couple of hours overtime, do you think you can finish? You’ll be doing me a favour. You know what’s on tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m on,’ said Zar.

  ‘Extra money. Fine by me,’ added Bill.

  ‘Thanks for that.’ She waved her hands in the air. ‘What a headache!’

  She left them. At least no trouble there. She’d need to start early tomorrow to get the cascade plumbed in, and have Rose and Zar help with the planting. The playground could stay shut. But maybe not, the Mayor would expect to see it open, kids on swings.

  How? With whom?

  She gave Jack and Mr Swift a wave as she crossed to the bowling green pavilion. She had no wish to repeat her moans to them. At least the green was fine. There’d be no play on it until spring. The pavilion might be needed tomorrow, though. She climbed the few steps to the verandah and took out her bunch of keys. They were all labelled. She opened up and stepped into the large open space.

  Rather stuffy. She screwed her nose, some scenty smell somewhere…

  Zar came in breathless.

  ‘I saw you go in,’ he said. ‘And I thought I should explain…’

  ‘Explain what?’

  He scratched his hair awkwardly. ‘I stayed here last night. I had to leave home in a hurry. I’m gay…’

  ‘That’s not a crime,’ she said.

  ‘It is in my house. With my parents.’ He held his hands wide to show his need. ‘I had nowhere to go, Liz.’

  ‘I’m sorry about your parents, Zar.’

  ‘They’re strict Muslims. Gays should be thrown off mountain tops…’ He stopped and changed tack. ‘I saw you coming in here. You were going to find my stuff under the counter…’

  ‘Enough,’ she said, ‘I haven’t found anything. Besides, I haven’t time to inspect the pavilion now, what with all the hoo-ha tomorrow. Though I will do a thorough inspection on Thursday. And I expect to find nothing here. Do you understand me, Zar?’

  ‘Yes, Liz. Thank you.’

  She flashed her open hands at him. ‘Don’t thank me. This conversation is about your day release starting next week. You know how short staffed we are? I expect you to work hard and justify your day’s study.’

  ‘I will, Liz. Promise.’

  ‘Now. Go back and get that bed dug before you leave tonight.’

  He ran off. She stood on the threshold; she wasn‘t inspecting any further. The less she knew the better. The pavilion would not be used tomorrow, she’d see to that. Drains, she’d say if she were asked. And she could take them into the greenhouse, show off the birds of paradise.

  She locked the pavilion.

  And now she had the phone call to make about Amy’s arrest, then leaf vaccing, then… and then.

  She was swept by weariness.

  Chapter 43

  That was the end of the mortar. No point making any more this time of day. Incredibly, they’d done two thirds of the wall. Jack had tried to slow down Mr Swift, but he worked on as if he were on a bonus. Now he’d have to stop. Buckets and wheelbarrow had to be washed out – and then knocking off time.

  His phone rang. An unknown number. Might be some work.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, ‘Jack of All Trades here.’

  ‘Rose on the Swings here,’ came the reply. ‘Can you come to the playground?’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘I need your help. Right now. Too complicated to explain. Please. Right now!’

  ‘Be there soon as.’

  He closed the call. And told Mr Swift there was something in the playground that he had to deal with right away. And set off, wondering what could be so important that it needed him there, now.

  The sun was low. His elongated shadow strode along the lawn, the boots fat and clumpy, legs pole-like, the body square and squashed with a tiny head like a plum on top. Quite apt, some might think.

  Bill and Zar were busy digging, Liz vaccing the lawn, oblivious of the time. Even the manager hard at it. Not that he was against managers getting their hands dirty, but she was in a rush, as if every fallen leaf was a criticism of her park. Her park now.

  As he entered the playground he saw Rose talking to a youngish woman in a headscarf who was waving her arms in agitation. She backed away as Jack came towards them.

  ‘What’d she want?’ he said.

  ‘Her money back,’ said Rose. ‘I told her it’s nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Was she one you collected?’

  ‘No. The few I took have gone. She’s one of Amy’s passengers.’

  ‘I doubt she’ll see a penny of it,’ he said, watching the woman, who was talking to a friend at the swings, both keeping an eye on Jack and Rose.

  ‘She could sell the scent,’ said Rose.

  ‘You said it was junk.’

  She shrugged. ‘Plenty of people buy junk. Anyway, I don’t want to discuss the ethics of capitalism. Come into the playground office.’

  ‘Am I safe there with you?’

  She looked at him wide eyed. ‘It’s a kids’ playground, Jack. I am not going to take advantage of you here.’

  ‘Pity.’

  He followed her to the office, wondering why it was necessary, especially when he found there was scarcely any room inside, as the small space was almost packed out with scent packs.

  He picked up a box. ‘Amy’s been flogging this stuff for how long?’

  ‘For months from what I gather. Two hundred pounds a throw to a load of mugs. But never mind that.’ She took a bundle of notes from her back pocket. ‘I want you to hold this for me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t trust that woman and her mate. They might beat me up. Take it.’

  ‘You need to learn martial arts,’ he said.

  ‘Not useful advice for the next hour.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Give or take. But I’m hoping having seen you, they’ll think better of taking it out on me.’

  ‘But I’ve got to pack away. I can’t stick around here.’

  ‘I’ve got this,’ she said, and showed him a whistle. ‘It’s quite a piercing blast. If you hear it, come running.’

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ll race over and hope to get here before they garrotte you on the roundabout.’

  He shoved the money deep into his overall pockets.

  ‘Anything else?’ he added.

  ‘Yes. Tonight,’ she said. ‘Plans have changed.’

  ‘I thought it was too good to be true, you taking me out to dinner.’

  ‘I’ve moved,’ she said with a half smile, ‘to Mr Swift’s.’

  ‘I noted you doing the deal.’

  She pursed her lips in annoyance. ‘He needs looking after, company.’

  Jack might have commented on the type of company he needed, but didn’t. Being lower than the angels himself.

  ‘So I want you to buy a takeaway,’ she said, ‘for say 20 quid of that money, and then join us for dinner in Mr Swift’s house. About 7 o’clock.’

  ‘I didn’t figure this was going to be a threesome.’

  ‘Just for dinner, Jack,’
she said placatingly. ‘We’ll work something out afterwards.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Wait and see.’

  ‘Not sure about your surprises, after last night’s abandonment, but I’ll give you a final chance.’

  ‘Thank you, Jack. I’ll do my best.’

  She threw her arms round him and they kissed, longish and it might have been longer, but she pulled reluctantly away.

  ‘This is the children’s playground, Jack,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And I don’t want to lose my job… so, I’m afraid, certain standards apply.’

  ‘I bet those mums are wondering what’s going on in here.’

  ‘Get out of here then. This minute. I’ll see you at seven with the grub. And bring what’s left of my money.’

  He left her, the two women on the swings watching him as he crossed the playground. He gazed back at them and waved a stern finger in their direction. Let them make what they would of that. He turned away and left the playground.

  The sky was darkening, but almost clear, the sun low in the tree tops. What a perfect night for a man with a telescope. But short of that, he reflected, he could bring his binoculars. The Pleiades were a brilliant sight this time of year. Where was Jupiter? He’d need to look it up.

  Liz was busy vaccing as before, head down pushing into the leaves, the machine grumbling and groaning. The two diggers had finished the first bed and were heading with their wheelbarrow and tools to the second. Plainly overtime was on offer.

  Back at the wall, Mr Swift was seated on the chair, breathing heavily. Jack considered giving him twenty quid. Or would he be insulted?

  ‘Ian’d be proud of that wall,’ he said.

  ‘We’re a good team,’ said Jack.

  ‘Put it there,’ said the old man, putting out his hand. They shook.

  ‘I’ll be coming over with a takeaway tonight, if that’s OK.’

  ‘Be pleased to see you, son.’

  Chapter 44

  Back at his flat, Jack showered and changed. He considered doing the washing up left from the morning. It seemed such a waste of time and hot water. The more you wash up, the more you have to wash up. Wait till the crockery runs out.