by Sharon Owens
‘I decided I’d get here early, like. Why not, I said to myself, seeing as I’d nothing else to do.’
The weasel, thought Timothy. He knew that I would try to hide.
‘I thought you might have changed your mind,’ he said, not looking at Eugene, ‘when it took you so long to get back to me.’
‘No, not at all. It just took a while longer than I figured to study the lie of the land. Now, come on, we’ll talk on the way. I’ve got a car. It’s parked on a side street beside the ballroom, since yesterday.’
‘So, you’re really going through with it? You’re going to rob the ballroom? Then what?’
‘We go to your flat, and wait for a few days.’
‘I told you, not there. Not my home.’
‘They’ll never think of looking there. Too long ago, since you and me were a team, since you were on their books. And anyway, they’ll never know it was me – we’ll keep our faces well covered. We’ll watch a bit of telly, have a curry and a few beers. You’ll go to work, as normal. When they’ve stopped checking the ferry terminals, I’ll sail to England, and freedom. I can catch another boat to anywhere I like. South of France, anywhere.’
The two men set off walking towards the park.
‘You don’t think Johnny Hogan will have that kind of money in his back pocket, do you? It will take weeks to sell the place; any developer thinking of buying will need to secure planning permission to knock down the hall, before he coughs up. And what if Hogan hasn’t got the money on the premises? No bank will give him a big lump of cash like that. Just over the counter. No questions asked.’
‘Of course he’ll have cash there. Bags of it. Tax evasion and all that. Do you know nothing about dance halls? He’ll have it, or else.’
‘Or else, what? Has it come to this, Eugene? Terrorizing a back-street disco? Are you crazy?’
‘Now, you listen to me, Tate. I’m sick of you, and that’s the truth. If it wasn’t for you, I might be in Spain now, letting the wife take care of me in my retirement. You do what you’re told, or I’ll do what I should have done years ago. Shut you up for good!’
‘But, my flat, my job? I can’t go back to my old life when all this is over. They might see my face, find out where I live. They’ll never trust me again in the gym.’
‘Just a minute. Step in there, I want to check something,’ said Eugene, and he elbowed Timothy into the Palmhouse. There were a few people inside the main body of the gracious old building, exclaiming at the huge size of the leaves on the exotic plants. To the right, the cacti on the hot side had also attracted some visitors. Eugene and Timothy went into the cool side of the greenhouse, where hundreds of potted plants were laid out in neat rows.
‘Go on, down to the end. There’s something there I have to collect.’
Timothy hurried down the path, behind the display shelves, to a little space where empty flowerpots were stacked neatly. The floor was damp and covered with moss. He could see nothing, no bag or package.
‘There’s nothing here,’ he said.
Eugene only smiled. He reached in behind a large flowerpot and drew out a long knife with a fancy handle. The blade was thin and evil-looking. He turned it over a few times, so that it caught the light shining in through the mottled glass of the greenhouse.
‘This is what I was looking for, Timothy. Now, unless you want to go a couple of rounds with my good friend here, you spineless fool, you’ll do what I tell you.’
‘Please, Eugene.’ There were tears in Timothy’s eyes.
Then the smaller man had him by the collar, and was shouting up into his face. ‘I am not telling you this again, Tate. All you have to do is keep watch, maybe thump Hogan a couple of times. I cannot stand any more of this whining. I’m going outside for a cigarette, and when you have pulled yourself together, you will come out, and you will shut up, and we will complete this operation.’ He pushed him backwards then, roughly, so that he fell over the flowerpots and lay still on the damp moss.
Eugene’s retreating footsteps were soft on the mossy path. The door closed behind him, with a tiny squeak. Timothy sat up on the path, and laid his face against the cool glass, letting the condensation soothe his hot skin. The window moved out slightly, and he realized it was loose in its frame. He gasped, and before the thought had formed itself properly in his tormented mind, he had gently pressed it out of the frame, and crawled through the hole. It was a tight fit but he made it. He was free! Quickly, he reached in and slid the glass back into place. The condensation had been wiped away, but still, Eugene might not notice. Timothy crawled into the shrubbery at the side of the Palmhouse, and lay down. He could not, and would not, go through all this kind of thing again.
Eugene reappeared soon enough, as Timothy knew he would. He was shaking with agitation at Timothy’s failure to meet him at the door. Timothy saw his tormentor scratch his head, and look up and down the path, and then out of the windows, at the visitors strolling by. But there was no sign of Timothy. Eugene Lolly lost his temper, then, kicking at the display, knocking some pots down on the floor and stamping on them. Timothy closed his eyes and smiled, and thanked God for the broken window, and for Eugene’s nicotine addiction. Timothy wanted to stay in the well-tended shrubbery for ever, like a garden statue, but he knew that was not possible. Slowly, he crept out of his hiding place, and set off walking in the other direction. He nipped into a phone box near the museum, and asked the operator for the number of Hogan’s ballroom on Magnolia Street. With a sudden feeling of calm, he dialled the number and asked the girl who answered to put him through to Mr Hogan.
‘It’s urgent,’ he said. ‘Please hurry.’ After a short time, the receiver was handed over to James.
‘Yes? James Hogan here. Can I help you?’
‘I can’t say who I am, but there’s a man on his way to the ballroom. He’s going to do a bad thing.’
‘Who is this? What’s going to happen?’
‘A robbery.’
‘What?’
‘That’s all I know. Goodbye.’
‘Wait. Who is this?’ But the line went dead. James Hogan replaced the receiver and hurried down the stairs to find Eileen, who was having a coffee at the bar. The bar staff were setting up and preparing for that evening’s function, a twenty-first birthday party.
‘Quick,’ he shouted. ‘Lock all the doors, and search the storerooms. I’ve had a tip-off. We’re about to be robbed. Call the police right away. Everyone stay in small groups. No one is to search by themselves. Eileen, you come with me.’
‘What is going on, James? Have you lost it?’ But he had her by the arm, and was gently guiding her to the main doors. Trust Johnny to be out at a time like this.
‘I’m taking you home, pet, and we’ll let the police deal with this. Remember what happened last time?’
‘We can’t leave the staff here on their own, James. They’re only bits of youngsters, for heaven’s sake. What if they panic? We’ll stay with them until the police come.’ And she stopped walking and held on to the door handle.
‘Will you, for once in your life, listen to me? You don’t want to get a big shock at your age, Eileen.’
‘What do you mean, my age? I’m perfectly fine. We should stay with the young people, to help them. We’re responsible for them.’
‘You really are the most annoying woman! Wait! There’s Marion Greenwood, coming along in her car.’ He hurried into the road with his hands up in the air. ‘Stop! Marion, stop!’
Marion jammed on the brakes.
‘James Hogan, are you trying to get yourself killed?’
‘Listen, Marion, will you do me a huge favour? Will you take this madwoman of mine to your house and keep her there for a while? We’ve had a call that there’s going to be a robbery.’
‘A robbery? At the ballroom? Not again! I don’t believe you.’
‘Yes. Now, it’s probably a crank call. I don’t believe it, myself. But the police are on their way and I’d like Eileen to be kept awa
y from all the excitement. Just in case. Please, would you do this for me? I’d be so grateful.’
‘Surely, I will. Get in, Eileen. I’ll just call into the shop, tell my assistant I’ll be out for a while, and we’ll go back to my place for a cup of tea. Let the boys take care of this one. Okay?’
Grumbling, Eileen clambered into the passenger seat, and folded her arms. She looked up at James.
‘What about you, old man? Don’t you think you should come with us poor, defenceless womenfolk? We’ll all go back to the parlour and starch our petticoats.’
‘I’m going to wait here, to let the police in. Don’t worry, I’m not planning any heroics. Off you go.’ He closed Eileen’s door gently and tapped the roof of the car. Marion and Eileen sailed up the avenue in Marion’s stylish saloon with its gleaming windows. As they disappeared round the corner, James breathed a sigh of relief, went back inside and checked that the doors to the ballroom were firmly locked. The staff had checked the building. It was declared secure. Johnny had been contacted. Two police cars were in the area and an ambulance was on its way. Just as a precaution. They all sat down to wait.
Eugene saw everything from the newsagent’s shop at the top of the road, where he stood peeping out from behind a magazine. The woman in the Mercedes looked familiar. It came to him. She was Hogan’s girlfriend, from all those years ago.
‘Are you buying that magazine?’ asked the shop girl, crossly. A big, tall strap of a girl, with brassy blonde hair and very big hands. She was eating a chocolate hammer. Eugene closed the magazine and placed it back on the shelf.
‘No, thanks. I’ve just remembered I’ve got to be somewhere.’
He ran out of the shop and away from the ballroom as the first police car turned in at the top of the street. He stood in the doorway of a working-men’s club, wondering if it was safe to walk to his car.
First, Timothy Tate does a runner like the big, yellow chicken that he is, thought Eugene. And secondly, he tips off Hogan. Anyone would think there was a conspiracy against me.
Eugene would have to think of something else now. He was not going back to that dingy hostel, and the long empty days and the even longer, lonely nights. Besides, Tate had probably given the cops his name by now. He had to keep going forward. There was simply no going back. He would select another business and rob it instead, although he had planned to gloat over this robbery for the rest of his life. It made him feel sick to think that the Hogan clan had got the better of him once again. How that cheap playboy, Johnny Hogan, had done nothing at all, but sit in his office for twenty years, while the hard-working people of Belfast poured their money into his breezeblock cattle-market of a dance hall.
Just then he noticed the Mercedes belonging to Hogan’s girlfriend parked outside a bridal salon. With Eileen Hogan sitting alone in it. And he saw his chance. Kidnapping! He’d take the old woman prisoner, and get the cash out of Hogan that way instead. He darted up to the car, realized that the doors were not locked, and gently opened the back door. The knife was in his hand. He jumped in.
‘What the hell is this!’ Eileen was outraged.
‘Don’t move a muscle, or you’re dead,’ said Eugene. ‘I’ve got a knife, and I promise you, I’m not afraid to use it.’ A surge of adrenaline shot through him. It was good to be back in the crime business.
‘Oh, for pity’s sake, I’m not standing for this. Take the bloody car and leave me alone! Far too old to be stealing cars, you are! Are you sure you’re not from the asylum?’ She fumbled at the door handle, but it was new to her and she didn’t know whether to pull it upwards or outwards. Just then, Marion came dashing out of the shop and jumped into the car.
‘Right, Eileen, let’s get you home,’ she said brightly, and then the words died on her lips. She saw the thin evil-looking knife, inches away from her throat. ‘It’s you. Eugene Lolly.’ Marion’s face was as white as chalk.
‘Correct. Now, drive,’ he commanded.
‘Where?’ she whispered.
‘I don’t know yet. Just drive.’
‘Don’t listen to him, Marion. He’s a bloody fool and he won’t touch us.’
‘I said, drive!’ shouted Eugene.
‘Not an inch, you ugly slug!’ Eileen turned round in her seat to give Eugene Lolly a withering look. If she had the strength, she would have reached for the man and wrung his neck like a chicken. But sadly, she was about fifty years too old for that. She made slight jabbing movements with her elbow, to show Marion that she could try to disable Lolly with a sharp dig in the neck. But Marion shook her head.
‘I said, drive! I’ve got nothing to lose – I’ll kill the two of you, I swear it.’
Marion started up the engine, and the car moved out from the kerb and went down the avenue at a snail’s pace. Looking straight ahead, Marion drove the car without thinking, feeling or speaking.
‘Oh, Marion! You shouldn’t be afraid of this ne’er-do-well. He was no use when he had a gun and a henchman. How far does he think he’s going to get with a bread-knife, for pity’s sake?’
But Marion was afraid. She was absolutely terrified. And that vicious knife was like no bread-knife she had ever seen.
Back at the ballroom, Johnny and James were congratulating themselves on a well-conducted emergency procedure. The warning call was eventually declared a hoax by the investigating officers, but they were all pleased with the way that things had been handled. All of the staff had been calm and cooperative under pressure. Johnny and James went round to Marion’s house in Johnny’s pale blue Lincoln Continental to collect Eileen. But she was not there. Neither was Marion. One of Marion’s daughters told them that her mother had not been home since breakfast. They began to worry, but assumed that Marion had taken Eileen to a cafe somewhere. By early evening, there was still no sign of them. Eddy had to be notified. He came back to the house, still wearing his baker’s apron, with a smudge of flour on his face. They phoned every person they could think of. Marion’s friends, Eileen’s friends. Hospitals even, in case Eileen had been taken ill. Marion’s assistant had seen her only briefly.
Eileen was gone. Marion was gone. Nobody knew where they were. It was getting dark. James was grief-stricken. Johnny was guilt-ridden. Eddy blamed the entire Hogan family for Marion’s disappearance. Everything they were connected with seemed to attract danger. He would have attacked Johnny Hogan there and then, but he didn’t want to frighten his tearful daughters. They had never even heard him raise his voice before. And right now, they needed his support. Declan and his sisters were worried sick about their beloved mother.
The police began organizing a search party, and a press conference. Johnny helped them. The bar staff were told to cancel the birthday party, and go straight home but they hung around, whispering in corners, for a long time. James kept vigil in the office, staring at the wall, waiting for some information to come through.
20. Dark Days
‘I should have been here,’ said Johnny, for the hundredth time that night. ‘I should have been here to prevent this.’
Marion and Eileen were still missing, without any word at all, from them or anyone.
‘Don’t blame yourself, Johnny. You can’t be here all the time.’ James was sipping a small brandy. He hadn’t eaten since the disappearance of his wife, and the brandy went straight to his head. He blinked, and set the glass down, unfinished. No point getting tipsy with the cameras about to roll.
‘I just can’t believe it,’ said Johnny. ‘Where can they be?’
‘They’re about to film the appeal, Johnny. Are you sure you can face this?’
‘I am.’
James patted him gently on the back. Just then, Eddy Greenwood came into the office. He looked his old love rival in the eyes and a lump of ice formed in his heart. The Hogan men had no right to involve Marion in their low-grade business affairs. When this was all over, Eddy was going to sort Johnny out, big-time.
‘Any word here? I’ve heard nothing.’ Eddy had decided to dispense
with the small talk.
‘Eddy, I’m so sorry. This is just the worst thing.’ James went forward to shake Eddy’s hand. ‘Isn’t it awful?’
‘Awful isn’t the word,’ said Eddy. And he looked at Johnny when he said it. Eddy hated Johnny Hogan more at that moment than he had ever hated him. He’d been nothing but trouble, all of his life. What kind of man would stay single all these years, just to spin disco records in a concrete warehouse like this? Knowing that the entertainment business was a honey-pot attraction for criminal types? What had he got himself mixed up in, this time?
‘Will you have a cup of tea?’ Johnny asked, trying hard to be civil. He knew that Eddy didn’t like him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Sure, he had taken Marion away from Eddy when they were kids. Men did not forget that kind of thing. But Eddy was the one who had married her in the end. And had four children with her, for heaven’s sake. So why was he still sore? It wasn’t Johnny’s fault that the women were missing, although some irrational part of his brain told him that it was.
‘No, I’ve just come for the appeal. I want to get back to the children.’ Eddy was anxious to go home and sit beside the telephone. As well as that, he’d been crying a lot in the last few hours, and the last thing he wanted to do was cry in public. Just when Marion was so happy – planning for Declan’s wedding and the new house and the new baby – she was dragged into the living nightmare that was the Hogan family, all over again.
‘Let’s go downstairs, then, and get it over with,’ said James. They trooped down the staircase in silence.
The three men sat in a row behind the table, and the spotlights were adjusted. Johnny spoke to the camera with the polish of a seasoned presenter. He gave details of Eileen’s appearance and also Marion’s. He didn’t notice the flash of anger in Eddy’s eyes when he described Marion as a very attractive woman.
