As he neared the boys, he instinctively ducked when he saw the football flying towards his head out of the corner of his eye.
‘What d’ya do that for, dickhead?’ one of the boys spat when it glanced off his shoulder and smashed into the door of a house. ‘Me dad’ll kick your fuckin’ ’ead in if you’ve woke ’im.’
Rob felt like belting the lippy fucker, but he was out of his territory, so he decided it would be wiser to keep his mouth shut and walk on. Jaw clenching when the ball whizzed past his head again, followed by raucous laughter from the boys, he strode across the road and pushed through the pub’s paint-peeled door.
The strong scent of weed smacked him in the face, and he tried not to breathe too deeply as he looked around the pub’s dingy interior. Three burly, hard-faced white men who were propping up the bar turned their heads and eyed him with suspicion, as did the group of black lads who were openly flouting the smoking ban by sucking on fat spliffs at the pool table in the far corner. Two women, who looked to be in their fifties but obviously thought they looked much younger in their sparkly low-cut tops and plastered-on make-up, had been cackling loudly at a table in the centre of the room, but they both went quiet and stared at him.
Again regretting his decision to insist on meeting Harry on his turf, Rob was about to skulk away when he heard the growl of a high-powered motor pulling into the car park behind him. Stepping aside so the door wouldn’t smack him in the back when he heard two sets of footsteps approaching, he was relieved when he saw that it was Harry and a young woman.
Harry rasped a greeting to the other customers, and Rob, noting the respectful way they all acknowledged him, guessed that he had as much clout on the outside as he’d seemed to have in the Strange, where no one, not even the younger gangbangers who had fought like wild dogs to assert dominance, ever so much as crossed their eyes at the man they had all called Uncle Harry.
Harry placed a hand on his companion’s back and, nodding towards the table where the only other women in the place were sitting, said, ‘Go and sit with your pals, darlin’. I’ll send a bottle over in a minute.’
When she’d gone, Harry turned and looked at Rob for the first time, a slow grin lifting his thin lips.
‘Robert . . .’ he rasped, using Rob’s full name as he had done throughout the six months they had been padded up together. ‘As handsome as ever, ya little fucker.’
Rob grinned as he felt the tension slipping off his shoulders. Harry had always looked ancient, but he appeared to have aged twenty years in the three since they had last met, with his watery, faded blue eyes, and the wrinkles cutting grooves in his deeply tanned face. Age clearly hadn’t robbed him of his strength, though, and Rob forced himself not to grimace when Harry pumped his hand with a vice-like grip.
‘Good to see you,’ Harry said, releasing Rob’s hand at last – and nearly breaking his shoulder when he clapped a gnarled hand down on it. ‘What took you so long?’
‘I’ve been meaning to get in touch for ages,’ Rob lied, surreptitiously cradling his hand when Harry steered him over to the bar. ‘But you know how it is . . . life got in the way.’
‘More like you’ve been too busy slinging your cock around to remember your old Uncle Harry, eh?’ The man gave a leery grin and clicked his fingers at the barman, who jumped to attention. ‘What you having?’
‘Er, whatever you’re having,’ Rob said. ‘But I’ll get it.’
‘Don’t insult me,’ Harry said, pulling a thick wad of twenties out of his pocket and slapping several down on the bar top. ‘Two fat Hens,’ he told the barman. ‘And a bottle of red for the ladies.’
‘Is that your wife?’ Rob asked, glancing over at the woman Harry had arrived with and wondering how the man had managed to pull her. Not only was she was much closer to Rob’s age than his, she was also surprisingly attractive – way too attractive for an ugly old bugger like Harry.
‘Mistress,’ Harry said, his eyes glittering as he, too, looked over at her. ‘Not bad, eh?’ He winked at Rob and jabbed him in the ribs with a rock-hard elbow before scooping up one of the glasses the barman had placed on the bar and throwing the double measure into his mouth. ‘Same again,’ he said, slamming the empty glass down. ‘And keep ’em coming,’ he added, before jerking his head at Rob and heading over to a table in a quiet corner.
Following, with his own as-yet untouched drink in his hand, Rob sat down.
‘So what brings you all the way out here on a shit night like this?’ Harry asked, his faded eyes still as sharp as a tack as he peered into Rob’s.
‘Like I said, I need a favour,’ Rob started.
Harry held up a hand to silence him when the barman came over with a bottle of Hennessy. Gesturing for the man put it down and go, Harry took a pack of tobacco out of his pocket and rolled a cigarette.
‘Go on, then,’ he said, looking at Rob again after lighting up. ‘You said you ain’t after money, so what is it? Drugs? Passport? Driving licence . . .?’
Shocked to hear how easily the items rolled off Harry’s tongue, as if he’d have no problem supplying any or all of them, Rob said, ‘I, um, wanted to sound you out about some people who got murdered.’
‘Murdered?’ Harry raised a bushy grey eyebrow. ‘Pals of yours, were they?’
‘No, I didn’t actually know them,’ Rob admitted. ‘It was a while back, and they lived not far from here, so I was hoping you might know something about it.’
‘Journalist, are you?’ Harry asked. ‘Or a private dick?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ Rob said, catching the glint of suspicion in the old man’s eyes. ‘I’m actually looking into it for a friend.’
‘Who got snuffed?’ Harry asked, taking a deep drag on his roll-up.
‘It was a couple,’ Rob told him. ‘Woman and her boyfriend. They got shot in her bedroom.’
He took out his phone and brought up the article he’d googled after reading it on Suzie’s laptop. Harry quickly read it and passed the phone back.
‘Do you know them?’ Rob asked.
‘Not personally,’ Harry said guardedly. ‘What are they to this friend of yours?’
Rob gave him the edited version that he’d rehearsed on the way over, leaving Suzie out of it and making himself out to be a friend of Josie’s who was trying to help her to get her life back on track. Harry listened in silence, and was frowning by the time he’d finished.
‘So let me get this straight,’ he said. ‘You think this Josie bird’s fella offed Devon Prince and his bird, and you’re trying to find out if he’s banged up so you can tell her she’s safe to stop running?’
‘Exactly,’ Rob said.
‘And this kid of hers, is she white or black?’
‘White,’ Rob said, taking a swig of his drink.
‘Well, she deffo ain’t the killer’s daughter, then,’ Harry said. ‘’Cos he’s black as night.’
‘You know him?’ Rob’s heart leapt.
‘Never said that,’ Harry said, the guarded look coming back into his eyes. ‘Tell me more about this Josie bird.’ He changed the subject. ‘What’s she look like?’
Rob gave him a brief description, and Harry pursed his lips. ‘Interesting. And how old’s the kid?’
‘Fifteen,’ Rob said. ‘Why? Do you know them?’
Harry shook his head. ‘Nope.’
‘Are you sure?’ Rob asked, convinced he had seen a spark of recognition in Harry’s eyes when he’d described Josie.
‘I’m sure,’ Harry said, downing his second drink and twisting the lid off the bottle to refill both their glasses. ‘I thought I recognized the names for a minute, but it can’t be the ones I’m thinking of, ’cos that Holly died when she was two.’
‘Died?’ Rob repeated.
‘Yep.’ Harry nodded and sucked on his rollie, which was now wet at the end and turning a deep shade of nicotine brown in his matching fingers. ‘The mam was a smackhead, and the kid got hold of her methadone when she was gouched out and drank
the lot. Little fucker didn’t stand a chance.’
‘So she definitely died?’ Rob asked, thinking it a bit of a coincidence that there could have been a different Josie and Holly living in the same area as the murdered couple if his Josie and Holly had a connection to it. And they obviously did, because why else would Josie have kept that newspaper clipping about them?
‘Far as I know.’ Harry shrugged. ‘My missus reckoned the mam disappeared soon after, but I suppose you’d have to be on a death wish to stick around in a place where everyone knew you’d as good as killed your own baby, wouldn’t you? Remember what happened to that nonce who got put on our wing that time?’ he added, giving a sinister chuckle as he reached for his drink.
Rob remembered the man all right, and he shuddered at the memory of watching him being dragged into a cell and raped with a broom handle before being doused in lighter fluid, set alight and flung over the walkway – in full view of the screws, who had pretended they hadn’t seen anything until the last minute, despite the man screaming the place down.
Rob pushed the horrible images out of his mind and took a sip of his drink. Harry reckoned the Holly he’d known of had died but he hadn’t seemed certain, and Rob wondered if that was because she hadn’t, and was currently sleeping in Suzie’s spare room.
‘Do you know the bloke’s name?’ he asked, figuring he still had a chance of turning the situation to his own advantage. ‘The one who killed that couple?’
‘And why would you want to know that?’ Harry asked sharply. ‘I thought you only wanted to find out if he was banged up?’
Sensing that he’d been too forward and had made Harry suspicious again, Rob said, ‘I just thought it might help Josie if I could tell her the name.’
‘I thought you said it was her ex?’ Harry replied smoothly. ‘In which case she already knows his name, don’t she? And if you’re such good friends, wouldn’t she have told you?’
Rob felt his cheeks reddening. ‘I, um, wanted to be sure it was the same one.’
‘Tell me the name she told you, and I’ll tell you if it’s the same one,’ Harry said, his stare intense. Snorting softly when Rob’s mouth flapped open but nothing came out, he said, ‘Never try to kid a kidder, son. Now what’s the real reason you want his name?’
Shifting in his seat, feeling like a dick for getting caught out so easily, Rob said, ‘I just . . .’ He tailed off, then murmured, ‘I thought I might be able to make some money out of it.’
‘And you thought, Oh, I know, I’ll ask good old Uncle Harry for the bloke’s name, ’cos he’s the kind of dickhead who whistles on command. That it?’ Harry asked.
‘No, course not.’ Rob’s cheeks felt like they were on fire.
The lads who had been playing pool suddenly downed cues and headed for the door, and Rob’s stomach clenched when they glanced over at him on their way out. He had a horrible feeling they would be waiting for him when he left to catch his bus – which he would soon have to do if he hoped to get home before Suzie became suspicious about how long the interview was taking.
As if reading his mind, Harry said, ‘You still living in Manchester?’ When Rob nodded, he said, ‘I’ll give you a lift home.’
‘No, it’s OK,’ Rob said miserably. ‘I don’t want to put you out.’
‘I need to see a man about a dog, anyway,’ Harry insisted. ‘So drink up while I have a quick word with Cheryl, then we’ll get going.’
Harry got up and walked over to his mistress, and Rob watched as the man peeled some notes off the wad and pushed them into her hand. She smiled and leaned her head back for a kiss, which Harry dutifully planted. Grimacing, Rob quickly averted his gaze when the man headed back to their table.
‘Let’s go,’ Harry said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand after sinking his drink.
Reluctantly, Rob finished his own drink and followed Harry outside.
‘Address?’ Harry said when he and Rob were sitting in his plush Mercedes.
Wary of giving his real address, because he didn’t want Harry to take it upon himself to start visiting, Rob gave the name of a road a hundred metres from Suzie’s. Good old Uncle Harry wasn’t the kindly old man he had recast him as in his hazy memories. They had rubbed along all right at the time, but it was hard not to form some kind of friendship when you were locked in a cell with someone for twenty-three hours a day. Now, after less than an hour in the man’s company, he knew they had absolutely nothing in common and he couldn’t wait to see the back of him.
After a nightmare journey, during which Harry had kept his foot to the metal on the motorway, swerving from lane to lane and blasting his horn at every driver who didn’t get out of his way fast enough, almost causing multiple pile-ups, Rob released his grip on the sides of the leather seats when Harry, at last, pulled over.
‘Which one’s yours?’ the old man asked, gazing out at the semi-detached houses.
‘The one at the end,’ Rob lied.
‘Not going to invite me in for a brew?’
‘Sorry, mate, I can’t,’ Rob said, feigning regret as he unclipped his seat belt with shaking hands. ‘The missus thinks I’ve been for an interview, and I don’t want her to know I was lying. We only just got back together, and I’m still on probation. You know how it is.’
‘Special, is she?’
‘Very. And I’ve already fucked it up once, so I don’t wanna risk losing her again. Maybe next time, eh? I’ll give you a ring. Maybe meet up for dinner, or something?’
‘Mebbe.’ Harry winked at him.
‘Anyway, it was good to see you.’ Rob held out his hand.
‘You too,’ Harry said, giving it a quick, hard shake. ‘And good luck with the missus.’
Rolling his eyes as if he fully expected to get a rollicking, Rob climbed out of the car and tapped on the roof. Harry raised his hand in a farewell gesture and pulled away from the kerb, and Rob released a long, tense breath as he watched the car go.
He stayed where he was until he could no longer see it, then pulled up his collar and walked quickly down the road. Head down as he turned the corner, he didn’t notice the Mercedes idling in the shadows ahead.
Harry had killed the lights and was watching Rob in the rear-view. When he’d turned the corner, Harry reversed smoothly back and then jumped out of the car. Ducking down at the side of the wall encircling a glass-littered car park, he watched as Rob looked furtively around before entering one of the terraced houses on the opposite side of the road. When he’d closed the door, Harry squinted at the number of the house on the corner and then counted backwards in twos until he reached Rob’s house.
Back in his car, he made a phone call.
‘It’s me,’ he said when it was answered. ‘I need you to get me a number, ASAP . . .’
Suzie was sitting on the sofa when Rob let himself in, and she smiled up at him when he came into the room after hanging his jacket up.
‘How did it go?’
‘Bit shit, to be honest,’ Rob lied, leaning down to kiss her. ‘There were about forty of us after the same job, and some of them have been in the building trade for longer than I’ve been alive, so I don’t reckon I’ll stand much chance.’
‘Surely they’ll consider you if the others are that much older?’ Suzie said, getting up and heading into the kitchen where she’d been keeping his dinner warm in the oven. ‘I thought you needed to be fit to work in construction?’
‘I’m not sure I’d want it even if they offered it to me,’ Rob said, sitting at the table and smiling when she placed his plate in front of him. ‘It sounded like they expect their crews to travel long distances at short notice.’
‘Oh, wasn’t it a fixed position?’ Suzie asked, taking a can of beer out of the fridge and opening it for him.
‘Nope.’ Rob shook his head and stuck his fork into the food. ‘What is this?’
‘Chicken chasseur,’ Suzie told him, wrinkling her nose as they both looked at the congealed mess on the plate. ‘It looke
d a lot better than that when I served it up.’
‘My fault for taking so long,’ Rob said, scooping a forkful into his mouth and giving her the thumbs up.
‘You don’t have to pretend you like it,’ she laughed. ‘I can make you a bacon butty instead, if you want?’
‘It’s fine,’ Rob insisted, taking a swig of beer to wash the weird taste out of his mouth. ‘So what did you get up to while I was out?’
‘Apart from mucking dinner up? Not a lot.’ Suzie shrugged. ‘Me and Holly watched telly for a bit, then she had a bath and went to bed, and I came in here to work on those photos.’
‘Get much done?’ Rob forced another mouthful of glop down.
‘Not really. I wasn’t in the mood, so I decided to leave it for now and concentrate on looking for Josie instead.’
‘Any luck getting hold of that woman?’
‘No. And the one I spoke to tonight wouldn’t even tell me her name, so I’ll have to keep trying until she answers the phone again. I’m sure I’ll recognize her voice when she does.’
‘And how’s she been?’ Rob jerked his chin up at the ceiling.
‘Quiet,’ Suzie said. ‘But that’s to be expected, I suppose. She feels safe here with us, but I’m sure she’d rather be at home with her mum.’
Rob nodded and ate one more forkful of food before pushing his plate away. ‘Sorry, babe, I can’t eat any more.’
‘I didn’t really expect you to eat as much as you have,’ Suzie said, smiling as she scraped the residue into the bin and washed the plate. ‘Want me to make that butty?’
‘Nah, I think I’m ready for bed.’ Rob yawned and stretched his arms above his head.
Witness Page 24
