Never Back Down

by Solomon Carter

  “Oh, it’s you,” said Jess, emerging from the small kitchen out the back of the office, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, Jess’s glossy red mug was shaped like a stiletto shoe.

  “Nice to see you too, Jessica. So, big Maggie took a shine to you last night, eh?”

  “What’s not to like? No one calls me Jessica, by the way. My name is Jess.”

  “Right. Jess. So what’s the plan?”

  “Like I said. Our options are open – all the names in the hat are fair game – Gillespie, the Mitkins and the Somalis, even Engay the slum landlord.”

  “And they could all be in the same camp,” said Parker.

  “Could. That would be very handy in narrowing down the problem, but it still leaves a whole raft of possibilities on Dan’s location. And Victor Marka is still on my list of possible suspects,” said Eva.

  “Just about,” said Jess.

  Devon let loose a genuine smile. This news was positively encouraging. If Marka was out of favour, then they were firmly on the scent of Gillespie. “Could I trouble you for a cup of the black stuff, my dear?”

  “This is a self-service establishment. The coffee machine’s out there.”

  “Come on, Jess. Fetch him a cup,” said Eva, throwing her the look. Devon grinned amiably as if his life depended on it. “So then Eva, how are you going to proceed?”

  “The usual tick list; checks with neighbours of the properties that were newly acquired by the Mitkins and some surveying of the area of the Kingsmere Estate. Apart from the Police, we know there is another agency that does a little bit of doorstep work around there; they may have seen something in the blocks. Then there are some community leaders on the Estate, neighbourhood watch busy-bodies. Some of them must have seen something off. That whole Estate is just walls full of glass eyes.”

  “Glass eyes don’t see anything, my dear.”

  “How droll, Parker. There are enough windows for someone to have seen something there. I just need to ensure I don’t accidentally try to Q and A with a Somali.”

  It was gone half-past eight in the morning. The road outside was busy with the school run mums dropping their brats at the school gates. Eva once wondered if she would ever join their ranks. Between Dan Bradley and Richard, she had begun to sincerely doubt it. She sipped her coffee and studied Devon, who was perched on the edge of the front desk – Jess’s reception desk – he was scanning the walls, the décor, the notices – probably trying to estimate her income. His eyes met hers.

  “We do alright, Devon.”

  There was a faint mobile phone buzz which repeated itself. The sound was going off somewhere in the office. It sounded like a text message, but it wasn’t Eva’s phone. It could have been Jess’s, but Eva couldn’t see it on her desk.

  Devon shifted on the desk as if he’d been prodded in the backside.

  “Until Dan got kidnapped and you showed up, we were doing all right… and we will do again as soon as this caper is finished.”

  “Of course you will.” Devon seemed unwell, almost like a wax dummy version of himself; greasy and fake. He was making her feel awkward. She was glad when Jess returned with the smallest cup of coffee she could find.

  “If you want sugar and milk, you can get it yourself.”

  Devon nodded.

  “Jess, you had a text message come through,” said Eva.

  “Huh? I left my phone upstairs.”

  “I heard a mobile vibrate,” Eva looked at Devon.

  “Oh! It was probably me. I’m no good with these bloody things yet.”

  “They’ve been around since the nineties, Devon.”

  “Yes,” he said, with a flat line of a mouth. As the vibration sounded again, there was a knock at the door. Two silhouettes were set against the frosted front door glass. They tapped the glass, but it was open already, pressed loosely against the door jamb. The door swung open. Lee Mitkin surged in, cocky, brazen, walking like he was posing, with a cold, hard look in his eyes. Devon Parker stood up, looking defensive. A moment later the tall thin Rob Mitkin entered, looking like a seventies Terence Stamp, playing it serious and cool. Both wore bright, slim fit blazers, clothes for people a decade younger. It almost worked. Almost.

  “What is this about?” said Devon Parker.

  “What do you want?” Eva said, moving forward past Parker to take the confrontation to the Mitkins.

  “What do we want?” said Lee Mitkin, in a gruff voice. “I want you to get out of my face. You’re beginning to piss me off, sweetheart.”

  “Where is Dan Bradley?” said Eva.

  “Who’s Bob Madley? Nobody I know,” Lee Mitkin said.

  “Sounds like nobody at all,” said Rob Mitkin.

  “You know who he is. You had confrontations with him, and I know you are involved in his disappearance.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree, love, seriously. Someone might end up ruining that pretty face of yours, if you don’t stop hassling innocent people. Do you know what I mean?”

  “You’re threatening me.”

  “Fit and clever too, Rob, this one is a catch,” said Lee Mitkin.

  “A real catch. But I think the blonde is more your mark, Lee. Bit more meat on the bones if you know what I mean. I always preferred the girls who had brains, didn’t I, Lee?” said Rob. He moved in close to Eva, inspecting her up and down, using his height to intimidate. Eva held her ground. “Don’t get us wrong, Miss Roberts. We don’t threaten people, especially a fine woman like you, but surely you understand we can’t have people going around accusing us of nasty things. We could get a bad reputation. And that would upset anyone a bit, wouldn’t it?”

  “Upset?”

  “It would piss me off, Miss Roberts. Humour me. A good looker like you, what age are you… thirty-two?”

  “It’s not any of your bloody business.”

  “Thirty. Let’s say thirty then. A nice thirty, as well. Is it because you’re such a ball breaker? That’s what I see. I like my women feisty, don’t I, Lee, but I don’t like them to be too much trouble. No matter how pretty they are. I like teaching the pretty ones, breaking them in, until they learn respect.” He leaned in closer and Eva pulled back. She wanted to strike him, but Lee Mitkin had moved close to Jess. Rob Mitkin’s aftershave was acidic citrus. It filled her face.

  “I am a private detective, Mr Mitkin. This is my job. I will not be bullied, and I will report your threats unless you leave the premises now,” she said. There was a moment’s silence, which lasted a long time. She thought he was going to force a kiss on her, push her back against her desk, but instead he implied he could do it at a moment’s notice. A cruel cold smile broke out on his face. “You put on a tough front, but you’re just a pretty tart playing cops and robbers, Miss Roberts. You should have grown up, got married and all that. Keep playing cops and robbers, and you’ll end up hurt. No one wants that now.”

  “Stop this! Stop,” said Devon, waving his fat hands at the men.

  “Finally found your balls, Granddad,” said Lee, moving from one end of the room to invade Parker’s space. “I was wondering if you had any bottle.”

  “Either that or he was just enjoying the show,” said Rob Mitkin with a twinkle in his eye.

  “You can’t come barging in here, making threats against these women. It’s not on.”

  “Who are you, fat man? Look at the lard on that, Lee. He looks like a commercial for Slim-Fast.”

  “The before picture man.”

  “Ha. Or the morgue picture. What happens if you don’t Slim Fast?”

  Bastards, echoed around Parker’s head.

  Rob Mitkin walked towards the door and Eva took a deep breath. Both men converged on Devon Parker. “Leave him alone. Get out of here, or I will call the police,” Eva said.

  “I thought you were the law here, darling,” said Rob Mitkin.

  “Yeah. It smells of Bacon in here. But mostly of gristle, fat and lard. Especially over here,” said Lee, sniffing the air around Devon’ fa
ce.

  “You need a stronger deodorant, old man.” Lee Mitkin stared hard into Parker’s eyes. As he smiled, he said, “I hate people like you, do you know that? Because your kind of people stink the worst, do you understand me?”

  “You don’t even know me,” said Parker, shakily.

  “Yes. Yes, I do, old man. And you’re disgusting.”

  “We’ve got things to do, places to go, people to see, guys. Love to hang with you some time. But that’s entirely up to you. If you keep up your current activities, I may have to introduce you to our friends,” said Rob.

  “The thing is, Rob, I don’t think anyone could hang after that.”

  Rob smiled and nodded. “Yes, Lee. I know exactly what you mean. We’ll leave you to think, girl. Good luck on your next case. This case is closed.”

  Rob Mitkin strolled out through the front door, clattering it against the frame. “I like you,” Lee Mitkin said to Jess before he followed. Eva pursued them to the open door. Across the street was a big white car with a giant spoiler. The Somalis were in the front seats, and one of them blew Eva a kiss. The Mitkins got in the back seats and slammed the doors. Rob coolly looked ahead, while Lee Mitkin gave Eva a wink as the car engine roared and it rapidly pulled away.

  Eva and Jess stared out of the door. Devon Parker pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. The message was from a number without a name. But he knew it well.

  2 mins. Yr way too slow. Finish the job or forfeit.

  It wasn’t pleasant reading. The word forfeit was so non-descript it bore no relation to what it meant - especially if he could not steer these women back on the right course. Which was why he had just played his only joker. And the Mitkins had shown him why he could never play it again. From now on, there were no other players on his team. Parker was alone.

  “What was that about?” said Jess.

  “We’re getting closer. We’re getting close. Believe it or not, Jess, that visit was bloody good news.” Eva exaggerated her positivity. Her nerves were shredded, her heart pounding, yet overwhelmingly she felt relieved.

  “You’re sure about that?” said Jess, downing the rest of her coffee like a tequila slammer. “Because the gang boys in that motor didn’t look like good news to me at all.”

  “I know, Jess. They warned us off because we’re getting somewhere. Now we have to think hard, and work harder than before to get there. The Mitkins just messed up. They gave us a sign. And a sign is what we needed quite badly. I feel excited!”

  “You’re cracking up, Eva,” said Jess, laughing.

  Eva’s eyes drifted to Parker, who was lost in thought, his phone pressed up against his lips like he was going to kiss it. Jess saw him and gave Eva a secret nod. Eva nodded back. There was much to do, and talk about. Much to consider. But none of it could be done with Parker around.

  “Who texted, Devon?” said Eva.

  “Ahhhh? Oh. Just one of those ambulance chasing insurance firms, you know.”

  “Right,” said Jess, with disbelief in her voice.

  “Devon, when you’re done with that coffee, we’re going out. The iron is hot, and we need to strike.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Yes. I think we could do with some help in the London end, keeping an ear to the ground. Don’t you?”

  “Eh?! I’m not going back there yet. Things are just hotting up this end, don’t you think?”

  “Time to go, Devon. I need to confer with Jess. I’ll fill you in later.”

  “I see.” Devon slurped his coffee and walked outside into the wash of sunlight. He turned back and said, “Let me know what you turn up. Glad to see Gillespie’s hoodlums haven’t put you off at all.”

  “No one can stop us, Devon. Don’t you worry about us. I’ll give you a call later on,” said Eva, her face even, her smile wide. When she shut the door, her smile was gone. She locked the door shut and took a sigh, blowing her red hair from her eyes.

  “Do you believe in coincidence, Jess?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Neither do I. Not even a little bit. Which means this game just changed all over again.”

  Six

  “That old man doesn’t just give me the creeps. He’s up to something. You said it yourself. How much of a coincidence is it that he turns up here just two minutes before the Mitkins walk in? How much of a coincidence is it that his phone beeps with a text just before those idiots walk in. The man is a sweaty little sewer. Bad news seems to follow him around. Bad news for us, that is.” Jess waited for a response, trying to read Eva’s inscrutable face.

  “But you don’t know him. I remember him when he was good. He used to crack cases for fun, and clients in London used to queue at his door. For all kinds of difficult jobs, corporate jobs and some criminal stuff – he was the main man up in London. At least that’s how Dan and I saw it.”

  “I can hear the but coming.”

  “Yes. He was good. Ten times as good as this. If he was involved in this thing, then he really has become bad. Not only morally, in trying to hurt us, and being involved with the Dan kidnap – if he is – but he’s sloppy too. The text was something and nothing. Yes, it could have been the Mitkins. But it could have been something else.”

  “You don’t think so though, do you? I can see it, Eva. He’s bothering you.”

  “Everything here is bothering me… But I think you’re right, Jess. In fact I’ve been thinking we cannot trust Parker any more. From now on, we don’t include him in our thinking. We allow him to think we are still on his side, but that’s the limit of our involvement.”

  “So, Miss Tactical. What are your other tactics?”

  “We follow the same plan I mentioned to Parker before. We investigate all the avenues available – the tower blocks, the neighbourhood watch guys, the wardens and the local PCSOs. We talk to the Turkish guy. But we spend some time on something else too.”

  “What?”

  “The Mitkin’s visit today was a sign, Jess. An intended sign on one hand and an unintended one on the other.”

  “Treat me like I’m a two-year-old, please. I basically am two. But with the looks of a glamour puss supermodel.”

  “Okay, glamour puss. Parker mentioned Gillespie again, just before he left. He’s always planting seeds about Gillespie.”

  “The old man has the horn for Gillespie, we know this already.”

  “But does that mean he’s lying? We think the Mitkins could have done all this by themselves without another player, so why, even when the connection is not always so evident, does he bang on about Gillespie?”

  “Because…? I don’t know. You’re the detective.”

  “Because he has an agenda. I don’t know what. But we’ve been a part of it since day one. I don’t know if it’s a good one. I don’t know if Dan is a part of this, or if this is something different. But I do have the feeling he is trying to play us. So we have to be cleverer than he gives us credit for. Much cleverer.”

  “That shouldn’t be difficult. That man is old school. So old school I bet his old school has been bulldozed and turned into a shopping centre. You know what, Eva, I was worried that the guy had us where he wanted us. Now I think you’ve worked him out and he doesn’t even know it.”

  “Here’s what we do. We proceed as planned, over all the obvious routes, but this afternoon I want us to make a surprise face to face meeting with the Mitkin rogues on their turf – out in the open– where no one can hurt anybody. We’re going to turn the tables on all of them.”

  “You actually have cracked. They’ve got those Somali boys on their side. From what I hear, those people are unstoppable.”

  “So they say. If one goes down, another one rises up in their place. But I don’t think this is about the Somalis – not with Dan anyway. It’s not their style. The Somalis are drug runners, drug dealers, violent thieves and criminals. But they don’t kidnap. If this was them, the body would have probably been left in the middle of the street by no
w.”

  “Unless they were under orders from the haircut one-hundred.”

  “And Somalis don’t take orders. Everything is mercenary, everything is business with them.”

  “You’ve done your homework.”

  “Had to. These villains have been on my radar for well over five years now. I’ve read plenty about them and worked cases on their patch, but thankfully, I’ve had cases which didn’t concern them, until now. Besides, I don’t think this situation is their doing.”

  “So it’s the Mitkins, Gillespie or bust.”

  “We should get a clearer idea this afternoon. But it will be dangerous, that’s for sure. I won’t force you to come along, Jess. Frankly, I don’t pay you enough for this kind of work.”

  “No, you don’t. But I’m coming anyway.”

  “I thought so.”

  “We can do my pay review afterwards,” said Jess. “One for the road?” she said, holding up an empty coffee cup.

  Changing Tracks was the name of the Neighbourhood Warden agency that patrolled the Kingsmere Estate and other trouble spots across the town. They were not crime fighters, and were not able to confront the people causing the problems. Their role was to provide light relief, to offer some community support and networking for the whole area. The brightly coloured uniforms, red with some orange, helped delineate them from the serious agencies. They came in caps and uniforms, but you could trust them more than those other guys with caps and truncheons; that was the message. Eva interviewed the wardens first, but their hours were split between so many areas that none of their friendly faces could guarantee they had seen anyone like Dan in any trouble, although their whole team had invariably seen misdeeds of all varieties on the Estate. They all said they recognised the photograph of Dan, and the old timer warden described him as a cheeky chappie and a bit of a ladies’ man. Yep, that was Dan all right. After the Changing Tracks guys came those cops whom no one seemed to like too much, including some of the police themselves: The PCSOs. Their jobs were Police Community Support Officers; they wore police-like uniforms, and looked like police, except like all imitations – when you looked close up and read the small print. Their high vis waistcoats said POLICE in big letters, followed by community support officers in small lettering. This job title meant the government could get round the statutory obligation to pay law enforcement employees the proper wage for police. The new ‘plastic police’, as crime and full officers called them, were naturally disliked by some police, and mocked by criminals for their limited powers. PCSOs told Eva that they could not arrest anybody, but they could be witnesses and take notes, and then call for back up. In essence, they were problem spotters in uniform – Joe public in a uniform with some extra training. Eva found them very friendly and useful types. The plastics were often seen patrolling the Estate, and they knew about the Mitkins and about the Somali presence all across the borough. The plastics shared information pretty easily, more than real police, and told Eva and Jess everything they knew about the Somali habits and their mixing with Rob and Lee Mitkin. They recognised Dan too - one of them had dealings with him months back, but nothing new to report. They knew Engay too, from reports of drug dealing at some of the dives he was allegedly managing as multiple occupancy. They didn’t know anything about the expanding Mitkin property empire, but the face of the older woman PCSO dropped quickly enough to tell Eva that these plastics actually cared about their patch. Not only were the plastics badly paid, had bad press, but they were seriously vulnerable to attack from the Somalis who had never shown a sign of conscience since their arrival in Southend. The PCSOs and the Changing Tracks guys said the Mitkins and the Somalis were late starters, but showed up on the Estate for their own version of a team talk at one pm. It was the same time of day that Eva had seen Dan face them the first time. Soon it would be her turn.