CAFÉ ASSASSIN

by Michael Stewart

  I watched you standing near the front, questioning Kareem, your stance one of authority. In your robes and your wig, you seemed to grow a foot in height. Everyone else seemed to be beneath you. You were clearly in charge and everything about you exuded power. The clerk and the other legal people looked up to you – you were the king of this court.

  Why did you steal aftershave? you said.

  It must have come into the case by accident, when I was putting the clothes in.

  Four bottles? you said, raising an eyebrow and giving a look to the jury. Playful, I thought. I could see that the members of the jury were all impressed by your performance.

  Yes.

  Two from Gavin and two from Tony.

  You didn’t have to look at the jury. Your words did all the work. Job done.

  I put it to you, you are a murderer.

  I swear to God and my missus I’m telling the truth, Kareem said. He was crying now.

  The jury had to leave the room while the barristers and the judge discussed the notion of res gestae. They flicked from page to page of their Archbolds, the big red book. The bible of the court room. Exception to the hearsay rule, if given spontaneously and out of emotion. It was important for Kareem’s defence. His barrister wanted to include a conversation they had in the Group Four van. Kareem and Osman and two prison officers. Osman had whispered something to Kareem in Kurdish. Kareem had blanched. Kareem had shown fear.

  Later, one of the prison officers asked what Osman had said to him that had made him so scared. Kareem had told the prison officer that Osman had threatened him, said if he stood trial he would get someone to slash the throat of Kareem’s ‘missus’. It was important for them to show Kareem as the weaker force so they could get him off with a lighter sentence. But you were having none of it. You stood your ground. You found it easy to persuade the others.

  To say that you were good at your job, would be an understatement. You weren’t just clear-headed and able to cut through the crap, you were a skilled orator too. I could see why you were a QC at such a young age. I supposed you must have worked hard at it, but you made it look effortless. In court all day, bundles of evidence to go through every night. Speeches to write. Words to persuade, words to condemn. No wonder you had neglected the kids, no wonder you had neglected Liv.

  I understood why you had taken to the vintage wines and the single malts with such fervour. And I could see the chink in your relationship. Resentment building. A gap. A widening hole, like the one a moth makes in a silk robe. Liv and I had been working together a lot. Every week. Liv was doing the supper at weekends. She still wouldn’t take a wage. It was your money in any case. Your money that had paid for my three-piece suit, my silk handkerchief, my new smart phone and my laptop. Your money, Andrew.

  I went back to the flat and did a hundred and ten press-ups, a hundred and fifty sit-ups and ten minutes of shadowboxing. I had a shower in Richard’s filth, and went over to the club to open up. But I couldn’t get the image of you and Kareem out of my mind. For you it was a game – to condemn another man. I’m not saying Kareem didn’t deserve to be condemned, he was certainly culpable, though not necessarily a murderer. In any case what he had done was very wrong. He had entered the sanctity of someone else’s home, he had committed violence and intimidation. But what struck me then was the barely concealed glee on your face – you were relishing your power over this man and that made you less than him in my eyes. You were worse than a murderer.

  When I got to the club I noticed, before I had even opened the door, that the window had been smashed. There was glass on the pavement. There was glass in the gutter. As I got to the door, I could see red spray paint. ‘losT aNd fouNd’, it said. I puzzled over the meaning of that phrase. It didn’t make any sense. I sat on the kerb smoking a cigarette. As I rolled the paper round the tobacco, I noticed my hand was shaking. I rang up Liv and explained.

  I’m coming over, she said.

  It’s ok, I said, I can handle it.

  But Liv wouldn’t listen to reason and within thirty minutes she was there by my side. She helped me tidy up. I’d already rung a window replacement firm who did an emergency service and I was painting the red off the door, painting it black again. Within no time at all there was no trace of the damage.

  What do you think it means? Liv said.

  I don’t know.

  Maybe it’s the name of a band.

  I’ve never heard of them.

  That doesn’t mean a great deal.

  Thanks.

  What about the window? Liv said. You don’t smash windows to show band loyalty do you.

  No, you don’t. You smash windows because you want to break something.

  She swept the broken shards down a grating in the gutter. A van pulled up and a man in overalls got out. I went over to him and explained the situation. He had a look round.

  Listen, I can fix this for you, but I can’t get the glass tonight. Best I can do is board it up, secure it, pop back in the morning.

  That’s fine, I said. The window isn’t essential. It’s a cellar club. The window just lights up the stairwell.

  In which case I’d advise you to keep it boarded up or even get it bricked up. Is it rented?

  No, it’s mine, I said, with some pride.

  Listen, I do a lot of these, if you get my drift. Think about it.

  I got his drift. He boarded it up. I paid him and he drove off. I painted the chipboard panel black. I turned to Liv.

  Come inside, I said. I’ll make us a cuppa.

  We sat down with our tea.

  Who do you think’s behind it? she said.

  I don’t know.

  I was thinking about the man in the doorway, waving at me. Why had he unsettled me so much? I cast the image out of my head.

  Andrew still away?

  He’s staying in a hotel. Two more weeks left of the trial. It’s easier for him to be close to the court. The defence are throwing everything at him.

  I wondered about this. Bradford is not that far from Ilkley. Two short train journeys. An hour and a half in a Jaguar car. Perhaps you were busy, perhaps you were taking the opportunity to have some time to yourself.

  Kids at school?

  Staying over at their grandparents.

  Those two cunts.

  Because that’s what they were and still are: cunts.

  Steady on! They’re not that bad. Totally biased when it comes to Andrew, I know. It fucks me off sometimes.

  I took her hand in mine. I’m sorry, I said.

  Come on, tell me why you think that, Nick.

  Forget it, I just wanted to say thanks, and I don’t just mean about this. I mean thanks for everything. You know, for not judging.

  Why would I judge you, Nick? I know what happened.

  You do, I said, And you don’t.

  What do you mean, Nick?

  Forget it, I said.

  I rolled us both cigarettes. I lit them.

  Nick, tell me what’s up. Please.

  That night, things got out of hand, as you know. But there’s something I’ve not told you.

  What? What is it?

  I didn’t want it to come between you and Andrew.

  Perhaps if you’d showed any interest when I was inside, you could have found out, you bitch.

  Nick, tell me what it is.

  So I did. I didn’t lie to her, Andrew, I told her about that night, everything she knew about the night, everything that came up in court, and then I told her what she didn’t know.

  Andrew was stood against the wall, watching. He’d taken a pretty bad pummelling as you know. The man was out cold. I’d stopped kicking him. I’d gone to look for a phone box. I was going to ring for an ambulance.

  Go on.

  When I came back, Andrew was over him and he was stamping on
his head. Swearing at him. I had to pull him off. We both stood over the body. I knew he was dead. I leaned over him, listened for his heart. It was Andrew who ran off. I should have run as well but I couldn’t move, it was like my feet had been riveted to the pavement, and the next thing there were people around me, grabbing hold of me. The police.

  Are you saying Andrew killed him, Nick?

  Yes.

  The colour drained from her face.

  But, why didn’t you say that in court? Why would you keep that to yourself?

  My defence. Andrew had an alibi. Both his parents said he was home for twelve o’clock. Andrew’s parents – they lied. There were witnesses who saw me over the body. I had no alibi. There were two types of blood found on the dead man’s shirt. ‘O+’ and ‘B+’. The dead man was ‘B+’. I’m ‘O+’.

  Same as Andrew, she said.

  We have the same blood, Andrew, me and you.

  My defence said it would be better to come clean. A drunken crime. I’d get a lesser sentence if I just pleaded guilty. No need for a jury. The judge would go soft on me. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t plead guilty.

  Andrew killed him?

  She stood up, but then she sat back down again.

  I don’t believe you. You’re lying.

  Don’t you think Andrew’s parents are capable of lying too? Don’t you think Andrew is capable of lying?

  And I’m meant to take your word for it? Where have you been for twenty-two years, Nick?

  Twenty-two years you didn’t come and see me. Twenty-two years with the wrong man.

  Things happened inside.

  What do you mean?

  Things happened in there.

  I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  I’m a murderer, Liv. Inside, I murdered a man. It was premeditated.

  There you go, Andrew, you didn’t know that did you, but there you go. Both of us murderers, although I’m not the one judging others.

  I … I can’t cope with this, she said. She got up again, unsteady on her feet, grabbing her coat and bag.

  I’ve got to go, Nick.

  And before I got chance to say anything, she was out the door.

  You have made the handle of a plastic toilet brush into a yellow spear. You are walking down a corridor. You have concealed the spear down the back of your pants. You are entering Paddy’s cell. He is on his own. He is sitting on his bed. He is holding up some silver foil. He is lighting the silver foil. He is inhaling the smoke coming off it. You smell the burning foil. You smell the sick-sweet smell of burning skag. Paddy sees you and he’s smiling at you.

  He asks you if you want some. He tells you it is good. You tell him that you would like some. He offers you the foil. He is saying sorry. He is sorry about Keyop. He is talking about Keyop. You want him to tell you what he said to Keyop. You already know but you want him to say it. He told Keyop that he fucked you. He said it to piss Keyop off. He didn’t think that Keyop would believe him. But Keyop did. He is reaching down for more skag. You are taking out the yellow spear. You are thrusting it. You are looking at the yellow spear. It is half in and half out of Paddy’s chest. Paddy is wheezing, blood is pouring. Paddy is falling, splayed on the floor. Blood. Red. Paddy’s eyes, pleading. Gasping. Fists clenching. The foil by his side. He is staring at you. The pain in his eyes. His last breath. For a moment, you feel like laughing. How easy it is. How much power you have. Now you are an equal. Now at last, you are in the right place. Then your chest turns to lead. Your head thuds with a dull ache. You stare down at the body, at the lump of meat that was a man a moment ago.

  You never fucked Paddy. Now you have fucked him proper.

  12

  I was sitting at my table with only a bottle of Belgian beer for company. I was thinking it all over, making sure I’d covered every piece. Had Liv spoken to you? Had you denied it? You were bound to deny it. I figured that much. I was thinking about the best move. I was still shifting pawns. I needed to get my knights out or my rooks.

  I looked around the room. The club was becoming a haven for alternative types. The membership system was working well. I had installed a magnetic sensor on the door and issued each member with a card. That way I could keep the door locked at all times. You might think there was an irony in wanting to keep the door locked, having spent twenty-two years wanting it open, but I needed people to feel safe. The outside world wouldn’t penetrate this haven. I knew practically everyone who came in and they all knew me. It felt like home. But not quite a family. I still yearned for a real family.

  Two weeks had gone by since the vandalism, but there had been no follow-up. I hadn’t seen the man again and I felt sure it was an isolated incident. Two weeks had gone by since I had last seen Liv. I’d rung her, texted her, emailed her, Facebooked her, direct messaged her on Twitter. Nothing. I was trying to keep everything ticking over. Still working for Steve during the day and running the club four nights a week. I had upped my consumption of amphetamine. Pawel knew a good supplier, who dealt in pharmaceutical quality gear. I hadn’t been to bed for three days. I had a couple of Valium in my pocket to knock me out later. Richard came over.

  I’ll get off, Nick.

  Thanks, Richard. A good night.

  And sorry for messing up that cue.

  Don’t worry about it, we got away with it. Again.

  In fact, we hadn’t got away with it. Richard’s mis-cueing was gaining him notoriety.

  Sure you don’t want a lift?

  Things to do still. See you Friday, Richard.

  After everyone had gone home and I’d locked up, I sat downstairs on my own finishing my beer and going through my emails. I pressed send/receive and an email came through. It was from Liv. The subject said: ‘I wasn’t going to send this but …’ I immediately felt my stomach turn over with a sort of dark excitement. I let the cursor hover over it, I hesitated for a few seconds, before clicking and opening it. This is what I read:

  I’ve spoken to Andrew. We need to talk.

  I was thinking of lunch in Manchester.

  Can you make it?

  L x

  After I’d read the document, I stared at it for a while. What had you told her? I wondered. What fresh calumny had you concocted? And why Manchester? I drained my bottle and switched off the laptop. I thought about that shark again and I clung on to its fin.

  13

  We met in a café just off St Ann’s Square. I got there first and ordered a pot of tea. I found a secluded corner as far away from the counter as I could get. I read the paper and murdered the tea. She walked through the door. She was wearing a fitted fifties-style jacket, tight jeans and a red top. She had her hair tied back. She didn’t see me at first, half-hidden in the shadows, but then her eyes adjusted. She smiled awkwardly at me and I smiled back. She walked across and sat down beside me.

  Hi, she said, and shook her head. I gave her a few seconds to come round.

  Well, you’re here, I said.

  Only just, she said.

  I ordered another pot of tea. We made small talk until the waitress had been and gone and we were on our own once more.

  So what is it you need to tell me? I was almost whispering.

  I’ve been so fucking stupid.

  What’s happened?

  I never thought he was capable of … twenty-two years, two kids. How could I be so thick?

  She stared into the cup.

  Take your time, Liv. Tell me what you need to say.

  She took a gulp of her tea.

  A few nights ago I confronted Andrew.

  And?

  He denied it. He said you were trying to poison me. It was all part of your plan. He said you were trying to destroy us, that you wouldn’t be happy until you’d split us up.

  I’d guessed right.

  Is that what you think? I s
aid.

  I thought, that has to be right, that has to be your plan. I believed him, Nick. I said I was no longer involved with the business. He seemed apprehensive about that, asked after his money. How was he going to get it back, he said, if I wasn’t keeping an eye on things?

  So that’s why he agreed to you being involved?

  You were right, Nick. I said, fuck the money, we don’t need it. He shrugged but I could tell he wasn’t happy. Anyway, I went to bed. He said he had to stay up, work on some notes for tomorrow.

  She finished the tea in the cup and I poured her some more. I gave her a few moments, then I said, Go on.

  I must have been in bed for an hour. I couldn’t sleep. Something about Andrew’s response, when I told him what you said. I don’t know, it rattled him. Surely if it was a lie it shouldn’t have rattled him like that?

  She looked at me. I shrugged.

  I could hear him talking. So I crept downstairs. He was in his study. His voice was low … had to almost stick my head in the doorway before I could make out what he was saying.

  Who was he talking to?

  He was on the phone. ‘Nick’s told her.’ I guessed he was talking to his mum. There was a long pause. She must have been saying something, giving him one of her bloody lectures. Then he said, ‘Don’t worry. There’s no evidence, even if they re-open the case.’ That’s when I walked in. ‘I’ve got to go’, he said, ‘I’ll call you back.’ And he puts his phone away.

  She stopped talking. She looked around the room. We were still on our own.

  Take your time, I said, There’s no rush.

  I told him he was a liar. He didn’t say a thing. It’s funny, I’ve always had this feeling, this … well … that Andrew was covering something up. And his parents too. I’ve noticed it in the past, when your name’s been mentioned. I don’t know exactly, it’s like something … it’s like a need to move on to another subject … Believe it or not, I wanted to come and visit you.