The American Broker

by Andrew Hill

  Paul had been allocated to share a room with Bob. They didn't expect the man to try and escape - he could hardly get as far as the road led only a little further up, ending at a turning point overlooking the long valley they had driven up that afternoon. Paul went into the entrance hall and took one wire off the telephone socket on the wall, replacing the cover with a soft click. Walking back into the bedroom he turned the key in the lock gently, pocketing the key while Bob gazed into the night framed by the window.

  Chapter XIII June

  A heavy truck thundered past the little girl picking dandelions at the roadside. Her curly brown hair blew in the blast of fume-filled air that came a second later. She looked round quickly as her mother shouted.

  "Come here this minute! How many times do I have to tell you not to play by the road!" June Franklin's voice was harsh. Taking hold of the little girl's hand she pulled her along and marched back into the small front garden in Chatham Crescent, Ridgway, a sprawling development practically joining Newbury.

  Stopping to brush her long, light brown hair out of her face, little Hannah buried her head in her mother's dress and two tiny hands clutched at the folds in it. Just thirty-two, June had aged a lot recently and her face was drawn. Bringing up three children on the little income her husband, an occasionally employed carpenter, brought home was tough. There had been a time when she had experienced the fun and freedom of earning her own money, and with some left over at the end of a month, when Chris had lifted her out of her humdrum existence and brought a sparkle to her grey-brown eyes. The Audi 80 he had provided for her several years ago still stood on the concrete drive but now the brown tint of rust speckled the bottom edges of the doors and was blistering the white paintwork in many places. Sticky finger-marks made weird patterns on the back window and a coat hanger hung limply in the chrome button where an aerial had once stood.

  Another truck passed and a man shouted something through an open window as the driver hooted. She turned in disgust and went inside, the cheap glass-panelled door clattering thinly behind her. Hannah ran over to the television and pressed two switches expertly, running back again to the sofa and bouncing onto it, sitting there with her legs straight out in front of her. She stared intently at the bright cartoon colours and clutched a furry white squirrel, absent-mindedly twiddling its tail round and round.

  The phone rang and June picked up the receiver. There was a click and the dialling tone returned. Before she could put the receiver down a chubby arm had swung round her neck with a hand across her mouth. Her eyes wide with fear, she struggled to turn but the weight of a man's body pressed her hard against the sideboard, its front edge painfully cutting across her thighs.

  "Don't want to hurt you, darlin'," said a whining, mean voice, "but me an' my mates fancy a little bit of recompense for our pensions. Now either your boyfriend shows 'is face and pays up or you're gonna have a little Christmas present you didn't expect. Not on the pill are we, darlin'?" he continued, sneeringly.

  June froze as she felt a cold hand slide up her thigh, clumsy fingers pulled at her brief panties but failed to reach their target. For what seemed ages the hand groped and heavily explored her body under the thin, loose dress. Her mind raced. Her left arm was virtually free but she dared not move. She tried to convince herself it wasn't happening and desperately hoped Hannah would not come through. If she could have spoken she would have offered the intruder anything to keep her child safe. The nagging voice came back:

  "You 'n' me could have a good time, girl - I might just give you a call sometime - make an appointment, you know. That's, of course, if you open that pretty little mouth of yours to anyone. We're goin' to be good friends, you 'n' me. You're goin' to tell your friend Chris that a real good friend of yours wants to see 'im and remember..." He pushed a finger hard between the top of her thighs from behind, moving it menacingly forward and back. "...remember, not a word to anyone else - 'cos we'll know about it. You just empty that little head of everything you ever knew and make sure Austin turns up and maybe I'll find another screw. Save you puttin' yourself out for me, like," he sniggered. "Now, we're not goin' to scream or start doin' anythin' silly, are we girl?"

  June shook her head.

  "We're just goin' to stand still, facin' the wall, until I've gone out that door. Right?" He tightened his grip on her chin, moving her head up and down to indicate agreement. "'Cos I can stay here longer if you want..." He released her mouth slightly.

  "I'll do what you want," she whispered. "Just get out. I won't say anything. Just get out of here."

  "That's my girl. I'll call again - just to make sure you don't forget and, yeah, to arrange for your boyfriend to have tea with me and my mates."

  June felt the pressure from behind ease. He moved quietly out the front door, leaving it open to the noise outside as the traffic steadily streamed by. She hung limply, forehead resting against the wall, the phone still burring on the sideboard.

  Chapter XIV Mrs Reilly

  Keith's wife, Carol, answered the door. The chain prevented it opening more than a few inches but she recognised Harry's dark hair and short beard.

  "Hello Mrs Reilly. Is Keith around?"

  "No. I'm afraid not," said Mrs Reilly, hesitating slightly and still peering through the gap. "Can I give him a message?" she asked, obviously not wanting to lengthen the conversation.

  "Oh dear," said Harry, "I really did want to speak to him - something's come up that he could help me with and it would be a good job for him. There's a meeting in London tomorrow and....."

  "Well, he can't go to any meetings. He's had an accident. Er - tripped over his grandson's toys - “she interrupted shortly and nervously.”But, I will tell him you called and I'm sure he will ring you when he recovers."

  "Oh I am sorry to hear that," said Harry, looking earnestly and frowning towards her. "Not badly I hope?"

  "Well, Keith's not a young man any more, " she replied, "and the hospital say he's got to rest for a few weeks. He broke his leg, you see, and that's going to take time to join up again, but it's more his mind..." She stopped in mid-sentence, realising that she had started to talk quickly and freely. "But I'm sure he'll be back to his old self soon," she lied. "Er, excuse me, Harry, don't think I'm rude but..."

  "Oh that's alright Mrs Reilly. I understand. Look - send him my best wishes and I'll see him another day."

  "Yes." said Mrs Reilly.

  "Right. I, er, better be off then Bye."

  "Bye bye." Mrs Reilly closed the door and went back into the sitting room. In a large, black leather chair her husband was slumped asleep. His right leg was in plaster and rested on a purple velvet-topped stool. An open newspaper had fallen in his lap and his hand rested on a walking stick propped against the chair.

  Chapter XV Collette and Gill

  Collette swung her plastic carrier bag playfully as she walked along the high street in Newbury. It was a warm morning and her smart two-piece gave her a touch of class and she stood out amongst the bored faces and the inevitable jeans that surrounded her. Her dark brown hair rested on her jacket collar and the sunlight caught the colour she had added.

  She paused at the little gift shop, gazing childlike at a mobile in the window. Small, brightly-painted, paper birds twirled slowly on thin strands of cotton attached to a cross of balsa wood. A white cloud hung from another and a yellow disc of sun spun round to reveal a white crescent moon against a black background on the other side. She felt an irresistible urge to paint silver stars on it and smiled to herself. Pushing open the door, she held it ajar for a little boy to come out. He was clutching a blue and yellow box. She could just make out a red Matchbox Ferrari through the clear side panel. His little hand reached up to show her what he had and two large blue eyes flashed up at her for an instant.

  "Oh do come along!" scolded his mother, leaning down and pushing him past. "Sorry", she remarked as she looked sideways and upwards at Collette. Collette wandered past the shelves of games to a pile of furry animals
in the corner. Playfully touching the chin of black and white dog, she moved her hand to stroke the soft, long, spotted neck of a giraffe, its legs splayed amusingly under the weight of the enormous pink duck on its back. She gently lifted a pink elephant out of the bundle and placed him upright on her left hand, rubbing his trunk with her nose. The young assistant looked surprised when Collette said:

  "Don't wrap him up - he'll suffocate." and perched 'him' on top of the shopping in her carrier bag.

  Her new black convertible Escort pulled up on the gravel drive outside June's mother's house, an attractive, modern, Georgian-style house in a village a few miles out of Newbury. Her hair was hardly ruffled but she nevertheless made a quick adjustment before getting out. The front door opened and June smiled at her.

  "Hi, Collette. Thanks for coming round." Then, glancing at the car, she added: "Alright for some," enviously, and a touch sadly. Collette was about to say something when a silver Alfa Romeo Sprint veered into the drive, just missing the other two cars. The unmistakable tones of Neil Diamond died abruptly as the door opened and a girl pulled the key from the ignition, a long, slim, deeply-tanned leg reaching to the ground.

  "God - everything about that woman's so Italian!" Collette murmured to June as Gill Chalmers stood up and hurried towards them, running her fingers casually through her long hair to sweep it back from her forehead. It fell back immediately. The white shorts and loose, men's style, shirt suited her well and were reminiscent of late Sixties fashion. A solitary daisy in one of the buttonholes enhanced the impression.

  "Hello" she called towards them.

  "June, this is Gill. Gill, June." Collette made the introductions.

  June smiled weakly at Gill and the two girls followed her inside. They went into a large living room, tastefully furnished, dark green and mahogany coming to the fore but brightened by a lightly varnished woodblock floor and fresh white walls. A Persian-style, oval rug was placed neatly in the centre.

  "Mum's out at the moment with Hannah but there's coffee ready if you'd like some."

  "Mmm. Yes please." said Gill, with genuine enthusiasm. "Can I help you with anything?"

  "No. Just hang on a minute - sit down, please, both of you."

  "Look, I'm sorry to take you away from whatever you were doing." started June, as she sipped her coffee, her eyes looking down at the floor. "It's . . . well . . . Oh God, you've got to help me . . . I was nearly raped yesterday!" The last words were blurted out and June clutched her cup with both hands, still staring at the floor. "It's got to be something to do with Chris." She turned and looked up at Gill. "He's with you. I know he is! I don't care any more - just help me stop it." Her eyes were not angry, just very sad. Her few words had shaken both girls. Collette moved off the chair and knelt down in front of June.

  "You poor thing, June. But who? Why?"

  June described what had happened, her head bent down again, talking in short bursts to Collette. Gill listened, her chin cupped in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. She had only met Collette once before, a week ago, and had learned a little about June from both her and Chris, but not much. She felt awkward but knew that she would have to say something soon.

  "Have you spoken to anyone else?" asked Collette.

  "No. Only Mum . . . oh . . . and Harry . . ." she replied.

  "Harry!?" said Collette. "Why Harry?"

  "He rang last night - just before I called you. He said Lynn got a call too - over the phone, not anyone there - but you know what she's like. He said it was a man saying that she'd get the same treatment as the others if she talked to the police or anyone and it was payment for Chris, Harry and us losing their money." June turned to Gill again. "But Harry and me . . . and I . . . We didn't do anything - I wasn't even working there then!" she cried out. "And Harry says Keith's had an 'accident'. Broken his leg or something. That'll be the same thing. It's terrible. I don't know what to do. Maybe they'll try and get you, Col, next."

  "Oh my God." whispered Collette. "This is awful."

  Gill took a sip of coffee and put the cup down slowly. "There's been another killed where I live, too." she said. "This week. No-one knows why but he was late thirties, early forties, living alone - you know, there are quite a few in Newlands, renting rooms or sharing houses. We knew there might be some repercussions, but not this..."

  "We?" noticed Collette. Gill looked guiltily at June and Collette.

  "Chris and I." she said quietly. They both knew about Chris and her - she had been the one that had spread the word around in the first place and, as part of the plan, had got Chris to call Harry before he went away. She felt embarrassed, though, actually being with them; even more so in view of what had happened.

  "I don't believe this is happening to me," said June. "Where is Chris? He's at the centre of all this. He's got to do something. I know he wouldn't want us hurt, I'm sure of that. Hannah . . ."

  "OK, June." interrupted Collette, quite firmly. "The important thing is, apart from Keith and those poor devils we don't even know, we're still alright. It must have been awful for you but he didn't actually do anything, did he?"

  "No, not really," accepted June, "but next time..."

  "From what everyone's saying there will only be next time if we talk to the police, or the authorities, or whatever, about what has happened to us now - and before." said Gill, trying to find some sense in it all.

  "If Chris can somehow pay back whoever he owes money to . . ."

  "How on earth is he going to find half a million?" asked Collette.

  "Surely it's only a few nasties who are doing this - they can't be expecting that much." argued Gill.

  "But what about the killings?" pleaded June. "How long before they do get him - that is where you're staying, isn't it?"

  "Mmm." agreed Gill, unable to bring herself actually to say aloud what wasn't true.

  "What does Chris think to all this?" asked Collette.

  "He doesn't know anyone's been threatened, of course." she replied. "But you can imagine that he's not too happy about going out at night."

  "Hasn't he got any ideas at all? I mean if he thinks that someone's going to bump him off surely he isn't just sitting there playing marbles!" said Collette, getting frustrated with herself as much as anything.

  Gill could see that she was getting into deep water. She was confronted with two remarkably determined young women who would not just let matters rest. They were personally very much more involved than she had appreciated and Collette's increasing firmness of tone was beginning to unnerve her. She couldn't tell them that something was, in fact, being done. She had promised. But the men would not know about the threats. "Would that change their plans", she wondered. "If Chris were at home, as they believed, they would expect me to call him now and get him round. Collette would probably suggest that in a minute. Rightly so. He would have to know. He would want to know." Similarly she could not link him too much with John. "Harry?" She had never met the fellow and didn't really want to but as he was obviously someone they spoke to frequently, she could make out that Harry might know how to contact him. At least he knew the others Chris was with and it would fill the period between now and tomorrow evening when it had been arranged that they would make contact with her.

  "He's not there at the moment," she said. "He's very worried but was going to see someone . . ."

  "John?" Collette guessed, correctly.

  "Er, he said something about John." she stated boldly, again avoiding a direct lie. "Look, I know how you must feel. He honestly doesn't tell me much about the past."

  Collette had lit a cigarette. She offered one to Gill. Her dark brown eyes held Gill's for a moment and Gill could see the sadness there. There lay a completely different girl than the efficient, occasionally brusque, image that she presented normally. She wanted to reach out and hold her, to let her cry instead of holding back as she knew she must be, tears forming now, making her blink and look away.

  Gill took the cigarette offered. She seldom
smoked but the emotion building up in her was too great. She could feel Collette gazing again at her as she lit the cigarette and deliberately gripped Collette's hand as she steadied the light offered. Her own eyes had averted Collette's but as she looked up to say "thank you" she caught them again. Collette's silent plea was tinged with a myriad of other sadness. She wished she could say or do more but the slightest squeeze she gave her hand just before letting go was sufficient.

  June didn't notice the exchange. Her own thoughts were a tangled mass. She tried not to think too deeply these days and took sleeping tablets to make sure that even dreams were never allowed to upset her existence. She was jealous of both girls' freedom and, indeed, their comparative youth. Collette was a good six years younger and Gill she found difficult to judge. A very beautiful girl, she could see that, and an intelligent one too. She guessed at twenty-six but realised that she could be as much as four years out - either way. She spotted the pretty ring on Gill's right hand and wondered if it was a present from Chris. She turned her own and made a mental note to ask Collette about it one day. "She would have the courage to ask," she thought to herself. June was too tired now, though, to care more about anything. Her children would be coming back soon and with them the rampage of her life as it now was and looked like always being. Sometimes she welcomed the inevitability of their daily problems. Their never-ending requests and intermittent tantrums. It all helped to swamp her own thoughts and, strangely, kept her sane.

  Collette and Gill said goodbye to June, Collette promising to call the next day. June would stay with her mother for a while, which they all agreed was best in the circumstances.

  Gill walked towards her car as the front door closed then stopped to wave to Collette. Collette was leaning on June's car, her head resting on her arms, which were folded on the roof. As Gill approached, she looked up at the blue, cloudless sky and then turned. The two girls fell into each other's arms. Gill pressed her hand gently on the back of Collette's neck, stroking the tense muscles there.