by Nick Oldham
‘Henry, I can’t just drop everything. There’s been one of our prisoners murdered at the hospital, or had you forgotten?’
‘Listen. Just meet me, okay? This is very important and I don’t want to say any more over an open line.’ His tone quietened her down. ‘It’s very, very important.’
‘I’ll be there.’
‘And bring someone along to help.’
Henry’s phone bleeped a warning that the battery was now almost lifeless. ‘Bloody things,’ he mumbled and slotted the phone down between his thighs. He glanced at Burrows. She was staring blankly out of the window. ‘You okay?’
‘No.’
‘We’ll look after you,’ he said and tried not to guffaw. ‘Now, you need to listen to me and do some thinking.’ She turned to him. ‘I don’t need to tell you the danger you’re in, do I? We are now going to your house and what I want you to do is this: think about all the things that are valuable to you and the things you’re going to need of a practical nature. When we get there, go straight in and start to pack a suitcase. Do it quickly. Take whatever things you feel you need which are emotionally valuable to you. Make sure you’ve also got all your bank cards, credit cards, birth certificate, passport, driver’s licence, stuff like that. You can’t afford to dawdle. Just get in and do it, okay?’ He wanted to know that she understood his every word. ‘Things’ll be fine, I promise, but we need to move fast. Don’t be tempted to make any phone calls or anything.’
They hit the motorway and he upped the speed. He breathed out long and hard, feeling very excited.
They reached her house in less than half an hour. He drew on to the drive and went into the house with her.
‘Go and pack quickly and please don’t make a phone call from the house.’
‘Okay.’
‘Where is your stop tap?’
‘What?’
‘You know, where’s your stop tap? The pipe where your water comes into the house?’
‘I have absolutely no idea, why?’
‘You go and pack. I’ll find it myself.’ He watched her trot upstairs, averting his eyes and thoughts away from her bottom, and went into the kitchen. The stop tap was where he expected to find it, under the sink. He reached under and turned the water supply off. Next he found the central heating control panel and slid the buttons to the ‘off’ position. His next job was to read the meters. He found a small torch in a cupboard and found the triangular key for the meter cupboard on the wall outside. He took a note of the readings, just in case Burrows never came back to the house again, which he doubted she would. She would have to pay the bills up to date. Back inside, he shouted up the stairs, ‘How are you doing?’
‘Okay,’ came a fairly weak response.
‘Mm, right,’ he murmured.
She came downstairs a few minutes later, hauling a suitcase. She dropped it on to the hall carpet and went into the lounge where she opened the sideboard and scooped out a bundle of official-looking papers, placing them into a small flight bag. She then worked her way round the room, picking up photos and ornaments, putting some of them into the bag too.
‘Finished,’ she declared. She was on the verge of breaking down. Henry knew this would be a critical point and that he had to get her out of the house before severe doubts made her change her mind.
He picked up her suitcase, which was so heavy it almost tore his arm off at the shoulder socket. ‘We’ll go now,’ he said, wishing to keep on top of the moment.
Her house phone rang, making both of them jump. She stared at Henry, wanting a steer.
‘Don’t answer it.’
It rang and rang, then finally stopped. Almost immediately her mobile started to ring. She got it out and both looked at the display, but it was anonymous.
‘It’ll be him. If I don’t answer, he’ll get suspicious.’
Henry relented. ‘Short and sweet.’
‘Hello . . . Hi, Ray,’ Burrows said. ‘Yeah, I’m coming round . . . Ooh, that sounds great . . . Can’t wait . . . See you. Bye.’ She sneered at the phone. ‘He said he wants to suck my tits,’ she said with disgust. ‘The bastard.’
The words were music to his ears because it meant her resolve to drop shit all over Ray from a very great height was still there. ‘Come on,’ Henry said, ‘let’s make a move.’
She went out ahead of him. He carried out the bags and made sure the door was closed and locked, unable to stop thinking that he himself would not mind doing what Ray had said, though he might have found a way to say it in a more diplomatic fashion. He would probably have used the word ‘breasts’ rather than ‘tits.’
At the last moment, Henry had a deliberate change of plan. He stopped at a telephone kiosk outside the town of Kirkham and called Jane Roscoe’s mobile. He fed a pound coin into the phone as she answered and saw it reduce immediately to 80p, then 70p. This urged him to get a message across as succinctly as possible.
‘Sorry – total change,’ he said. ‘You’ll see the reason why, so bear with me.’
‘I am waiting at Kirkham police station.’
‘Well done. Now I want you to go to Ormskirk police station. There’s a police hostel above the nick and we’re going to need two rooms for the night. Can you arrange that via a land line? Make sure we can get into the station, too, because I think it shuts to the general public at midnight. And make sure there are rooms to be had. Okay?’
‘Right, will do.’
With one penny to spare, Henry hung up and returned to the car. He explained what was happening and Burrows accepted things without a qualm, apparently.
‘You can’t be too careful,’ he said.
He headed back towards Preston and picked up the A59 southbound, which ran directly past police headquarters at Hutton, south of Preston. He turned in through the main gate, now properly guarded and controlled since a baddie had been bold enough to walk on to the site and toss a grenade at the force helicopter parked up on the rugby pitch. Henry was recognized immediately by the security guard and the barrier was raised for him. He turned right and pulled up near the single-storey social club situated behind the main HQ building. It was 11.30 p.m. and business was over for the evening, but he found Donaldson clutching the remains of a pint of lager at the bar, chatting to a starry-eyed barmaid who was definitely under his spell.
Jack Burrows saw her chance as Henry disappeared around the corner of the club. She got her phone out and called Ray Cragg.
‘And just where the hell have you got to?’ he demanded instantly.
‘Can’t tell you that, Ray, other than to say it’s all over between you and me. I hate you and don’t want to see you. I’ve had enough. It’s true, Marty and me were lovers. He treated me right, didn’t hit me like you’ve done.’
‘You were one of the lucky ones, then, you bitch.’
‘Yeah, I am, and there’s more, much more. I’m going to tell the cops everything I know about you. I’m in protective custody now and I’m going to destroy you for the way you treated me and Marty.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Ray said confidently. ‘You’ll be dead before you know it.’
‘Naah, Henry Christie will look after me. He fancies me and I fancy him. He can suck my tits, you bastard. You are going down, you complete and utter evil bastard! DOWN!’
Henry knew the barmaid. He said, ‘This man is happily married.’ He saw her face crease. ‘Sorry.’
‘Just my luck.’ She shrugged philosophically, pulling herself together. ‘It was nice talking to you, though.’
‘You too,’ said Donaldson. He drank the last of his lager and stood upright.
‘Maybe another time when you’re passing through,’ she said hopefully.
‘Maybe, ma’am.’ Donaldson tipped his head and winked. Henry thought she looked as though she had orgasmed on the spot.
‘Come on, you big lug,’ he intervened before full sex across the bar became a very real possibility. He herded Donaldson away from her.
‘She was cute
.’
‘Sure – and so is your wife.’
‘And I cannot believe how cheap the beer is up here.’
‘Lancashire prices.’ He pushed Donaldson out of the bar to the car. ‘You still okay?’ he asked Burrows as he got back in.
‘Fine,’ she said and smiled wickedly. ‘Do you know what “Fine” means? Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional, so yeah, I’m fine.’
Henry sensed a change in her. He started the engine and looked questioningly at her, a horrible feeling in his guts.
They were at Ormskirk police station fifteen minutes later, the traffic being light at that time of day, making the journey fast. Henry parked in the rear yard and pulled up at the back entrance.
Already he was beginning to feel jittery about things and it all emanated from the smile that Burrows had given him. There was something behind it and he thought he knew what it was. He decided he would broach the subject later.
He rang the intercom by the door and asked the voice which answered to send the inspector to the door to let them in. The voice obviously belonged to a public enquiry assistant working on the front desk. She chuckled when Henry mentioned an inspector.
‘There isn’t one here at this time of day,’ she told him. ‘Nearest one is at Chorley, I think.’
‘How about a sergeant?’
‘Nope – covering from Skelmersdale.’
‘A PC?’
‘The two who are on duty are out. I suppose I’ll have to do.’
‘Guess so,’ said Henry wryly
The lady appeared at the door a minute later and demanded to see Henry’s ID, which he gladly showed.
She led them into the station, then up to the hostel used mainly as accommodation for single police officers, though other waifs, strays and divorcees were often found to be lodged there. The rooms consisted of a bed, wash basin, wardrobe, dressing table and desk, all quite nice and modern. Showers and toilets were separate. There was a kitchen/dining area and a TV lounge.
The PEA showed them an empty room. ‘This one should be okay. Next door is free, too.’
‘I’ll have the keys for both, if you can put your hands on them,’ Henry said. He smiled and she softened.
‘See what I can do.’ She scurried away back down to the front desk. It was not far off midnight and she would be locking up soon.
A bloody PEA in charge of a police station, Henry thought and wished briefly for the good old days when every job was taken by a policeman. ‘You’ll be staying here for the night,’ he said to Burrows, ‘but I guess you’ve already sussed that. If you need a take-away or something to drink – which I do – we’ll arrange it, okay?’
She went into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Home from home,’ she said, bouncing up and down on what looked to be a hard mattress.
‘Can I have your mobile phone?’ he asked, holding out his hand.
‘Yeah, sure, why?’ She handed it over.
Henry checked the last number rang. ‘Is this Ray’s number?’ Burrows nodded and closed her eyes. ‘You must never contact him again,’ he told her firmly. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘I know, I know. It’s just . . . I had to.’
‘Fine, but no more, Jack. You can’t do it, okay? You must trust us with your welfare and safety, but you have to play the game with us.’ He pocketed the phone. ‘Right. Food and drink. Karl, sorry about this, but can you bear with us?’
Donaldson was fine about things. After all, this was the girlfriend of the man who had been killed alongside Zeke. He had much to learn from her, he was sure.
Henry heard footsteps on the stairs. Jane Roscoe emerged, trailed by Rik Dean. He went to meet them down the hallway.
‘This better be very good,’ she warned Henry.
‘Better than good,’ he whispered. ‘Someone who is going to give us Ray Cragg on a plate. I want you in on it, because it’s your job, but I also think there’s much more than just a shooting.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Jack Burrows, Ray’s girlfriend. She’s come to us.’
He looked at Dean, who looked, for all the world, like he’d seen a ghost.
Crazy had fallen asleep, his chin on his chest. Miller was wide awake and alert, knowing he could remain so for very long periods when he had to. Not that he needed to stay awake. The volume was up high on the alarm receiver on the dash, loud enough to wake the dead. Yet he stayed awake. His mobile rang. It was Ray Cragg.
‘How’s it going? Any sign yet?’ Cragg wanted to know.
‘Nothing.’
‘Think she’ll come tonight?’
‘I don’t presume anything,’ said Miller. He stifled a yawn. Not one of tiredness, but one of boredom. This was the sixth call from Cragg that evening and Miller was getting pissed off with him.
‘Something else has come up. I need to see you both now.’
‘You want us to leave here?’
‘For the time being I do. This is more important and it’ll mean a lot more for you if you pull it off.’
Miller shook his head. ‘Whatever. You want to see us now?’
‘Yes, right now.’
Fifteen
It was a Chinese take-away and they sat and ate it in the dining room at the hostel. It was one of the best Henry had eaten and he devoured it with relish. He was ravenously hungry too, and that helped. One or two curious officers who lived in the hostel passed through with frowns on their foreheads, wondering who this strange quintet of people was who were invading their space. Mostly it was quiet and also very hushed between the people who were sharing the immense banquet. Small talk was minimal.
Henry did not mind. He noticed how uncomfortable Rik Dean was. Very bloody uncomfortable. Dean and Burrows made occasional eye contact, but on the whole Dean kept his eyes on his Won Ton soup and crackers. Henry also noticed that Jane was watching him. He smiled pleasantly at her, but she puckered her brow and shook her head.
Donaldson partook in the food and enjoyed watching the unspoken interactions between the participants, happy not to be involved in any personal way.
At the end of the meal, Dean tidied away the boxes and foil containers. Henry drew Jane into a corner.
‘What’s the plan, Henry?’
‘Is there any way you could stay with her tonight?’ he asked hopefully.
Jane blew out her cheeks. ‘Other than the fact I have no night things, no wash bag, no change of clothes. That I have been wearing this lot since seven this morning, I probably smell like a fish, my knickers feel like they’re ready to walk in protest. My husband will go spare – yeah, no problem.’
‘If you can stay, I’ll get Rik to collect a change of clothing for you from home. D’you think your better half would be okay about that?’
‘He’d have to be. I’ll ring him.’ She stared at Henry. ‘Are you staying?’
‘I have Karl to sort out.’
‘And what about us?’
Henry went zip-lipped.
Jane’s mouth twisted. ‘Thought as much.’
Miller and Crazy met Ray at one of the bedsits in South Shore. Miller arrived in the car, Crazy on the motorbike. Ray was already there, holding a bottle of Stella. Two empty bottles were by his side, suggesting he had been busy consuming.
‘It’s all just gone to fucking rat shit,’ Ray said, beerfully. ‘Marty ripping me off – and what’s the full story behind that, I do not know. Him shagging Jackie, my bird. The fucking foreigners. Dix pissing off with my money.’ He hurled the half-empty bottle across the room. It thudded into the plasterboard, leaving a hole, and fell to the floor, its contents spraying everywhere. ‘Shit,’ said Ray unhappily. He folded his arms.
Miller watched the display with bemusement, wondering why they had been summoned. ‘We’ll get your money back,’ Miller promised.
‘With interest,’ Crazy added.
Ray scratched his forehead, then sighed. ‘Yeah, I know you will. I trust you two, can’t trust any other git, though, can I?’
The two henchmen knew when to speak and when not to. They clammed up.
‘And now this,’ Ray said, shaking his hands angrily. ‘The bitch. I cannot believe it!’
‘Believe what?’ Miller asked, wishing to be put out of his misery.
‘She’s gone to the cops. She’s going to grass on me.’
‘What are your plans?’ Donaldson asked Henry. They had retired to the games room downstairs, knocking balls around the snooker table in a desultory manner. Henry aimed a cue and belted the white ball into a cluster of reds, sending them spinning round the table.
‘Keep her here tonight, tucked away. Then in the morning move to another police station, maybe, so we don’t stay still. Then start debriefing her and if she gives us the goods, a written statement, that is, which condemns Ray Cragg to a life of crushing rocks, we’ll look seriously at putting her into a witness protection programme.’
‘Do you think she’ll need that?’ Donaldson potted a black.
‘Yes, I think she’ll be in big danger and I don’t think she’s done herself any favours by making that call to Ray. Sheer stupidity. That means we have less time to play with because he now knows she’s defected, if you’ll excuse the Bond-like terminology. He’ll be out to get her, probably even as we speak, so we have to keep on the move for a little while before things are arranged. If she gives us a statement, I can have her out of the county by tea time tomorrow, holed up in a half-decent house.’
Henry lined the cue up on the white and slammed it into the pink so hard that the ball bounced and flew off the table. Donaldson caught it in his left hand.
‘What I would like to do is get her used to talking now, even though it’s late. That’s what I’d like Jane to sort out. Chat her up, put her at ease. I’d like to leave her with a voice-activated tape recorder, but I can’t just put my hands on one.’
‘I always carry one in my case,’ said Donaldson, placing the pink ball back on the table. ‘I prefer pool,’ he said.
The games room door opened. Rik Dean stood shamefacedly at the door.
‘Boss,’ he said to Henry. ‘Need a word.’
Henry racked his cue. He knew this had been coming.
