The man gnashed his teeth at Eva. “Lies! All of it, fabricated!”
“Is it? Then how would I know about your little night operation at the marine centre. How else would I know that you wait on the jetty, while Tommy rides in with the goods on his jet ski and you take it from him.”
Grace narrowed his eyes. He smacked his lips as he searched for the right words but couldn’t find them. “It’s not true.”
“But it is, though, isn’t it?” Eva took a gamble. “And Norman Peters used to help you too... until you fell out with him.”
Grace narrowed his eyes further still and shook his head. “What?”
“Tommy’s the smart one, remember. That’s why this is happening, Clive. Tommy’s taken action to keep himself on top. Tommy Pink knew those murders were about to cause your sideline even more problems. Which is why he’s so content to let you take the blame.”
“What?”
“Mr Grace. Do you think Tommy Pink would ever want to go down for murder? For life? Not him.”
“We didn’t kill anyone. Not him and not me.”
“Such a shame that he’s left you in the frame then, isn’t it?”
“If I killed that bloody Bible-basher, why was Tommy the one seen arguing tooth and nail with that Renton man, eh? You tell me!”
“Funny,” said Eva. “Tommy said that argument was just a little debate.”
“Yeah. Well Tommy can say what he likes...”
“Yes he can, Mr Grace. Now if I were you, I’d think about getting your story in first. Before the noose gets any tighter.”
Grace lurched towards her, seething. She faced the man and stared hard and evenly into the man’s vicious little eyes.
“Now, now, Mr Grace. You’ve got your future to consider. It’s in your hands right now.” Eva waited a long moment, before she turned away and left the man seething. Eva walked away and a thin smile slowly appeared on her lips. Hogarth would never approve. But she hoped the end would justify the means.
***
“Tommy Pink,” said Dan.
The stocky market trader was busy laying out his stall. It looked good, as in ten times better than most of the neighbouring stalls. There were clothes which looked like real Armani and there were sunglasses which looked like Police and Ray Ban and there were handbags which looked like Mulberry. But the prices said they weren’t.
Pink turned around from the stall with its nifty layout putting the others to shame. He clapped his hands. “Yes, my friend. What can I get you?”
“I was just admiring the stock. Surely this can’t be genuine?” Dan prodded the winged Armani badge on the back of a pair of blue jeans.
“Oh yeah. This is all genuine. I mean, it’s not genuine Armani. Look a bit closer. Those are Arvani jeans. See? It’s there on the belt label. You see it? As good as Armani, but it’s Arvani. And that bag is a Marlwood bag. No, the names aren’t the same but the quality is just as good. You want a brand name, then the high street can charge you ten times as much. With me you can look good and save your money.”
He looked Dan up and down and thought for a moment before he said something else: “Or, if you really want to wear the right label, I might be able to do something for you later. After hours.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I can get stuff which looks as good, if not better, than the real deal. They smell real. They look real. They have the right names on them, the right badges. If you want that, it’ll cost a little more. But you get to look the part, one hundred per cent.”
“After hours?” said Dan.
“Yeah,” said Pink. He looked at Dan and his face pinched into a frown.
“How’s that possible?” said Dan. “Because I thought you were already pretty busy after hours.”
Pink’s frown deepened. He shook his head and turned away.
“Friend, I’m too busy to piss around having my time wasted by a joker. I’ve got a business to run. Now, if you’re looking to try and shake me down for something, please, don’t even bother. I’m not easily intimidated, and you’ll definitely regret it.”
Pink ignored Dan and began piling up pairs of blue jeans from a box.
“You’re already giving people a lot of regret, Mr Pink. You’re making lives hard, and those are just the lucky ones. Let’s talk about Ubers. Those Ubers you’re shipping in are killing people left right and centre. And then there’s Norman Peters. Dead as a doornail. Nasty business. Then Carl Renton, bludgeoned and hacked to death. He fared worse than Peters. Those mysterious deaths happened right beside the very place where you bring those Ubers in on your old Waverunner jet ski.”
Tommy Pink dropped the pair of jeans he was holding. He turned slowly and looked at every face around him. He nodded at a lady shopper eyeing his rack of sunglasses. The nearby market men were all busy. Oblivious. And then he met Dan’s eyes.
“Whatever you think you know, friend, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. And you should know it’s very dangerous to go throwing around allegations like that. I’m no killer. I didn’t want Little Norm dead. I liked the silly bugger. And Carl Renton? I wouldn’t kill him. I wouldn’t kill anyone...”
“Really. That’s not the impression your chum Clive gave to the police.”
“What?”
“Your friend. Good old reliable Mr Grace. He told the police all about your little night operation at the marine centre. He told them every detail, right down to the type of jet ski you ride. About how you had it painted black for the night runs. How you collect those Ubers in those rucksacks, and hand them over at the jetty, smooth and easy. But that wasn’t all he told them. He told them about Norman Peters. Explained why Norman had those pills in his pocket when he died. Why there was a package of Ubers taped inside the hull of the boat where his body was found. Grace even told them why Norman had Carl Renton’s silver snuff tin in his pocket too...”
Dan watched Pink’s eyes open wide. The man snatched in a deep breath and shook his head. Dan carried right on talking.
“Grace was only too happy to let you carry the can so long as he didn’t get tarred with the same brush. Acting as an accessory to a drug trafficking business, and being a cold blooded murderer are two very different things. Or at least Grace was prepared to take the gamble that the court would see it that way. But that little gamble meant he had to hang you out to dry.”
Pink’s face flushed dark red. “Then why am I still out here, working? Why did the police let me go?”
Dan took a moment to think of an answer but played it like he was just being dramatic.
“Because they think they can get more from you yet. You’re going to hang yourself out to dry.”
“As if Clive would tell them that. He’d ruin his own life. And as if you’d even tell me this. Who are you? What do you want?”
“I’m a just concerned citizen with a few special contacts, Mr Pink. I don’t like what you do. I don’t like what you’ve done or who you represent. And now you’re going to get what’s coming to you. I just wanted to see your face when you found out. I guess I just couldn’t resist.”
Pink’s face flashed with anger as he leapt past his stall almost knocking a rack of sunglasses onto the floor. He tried to grab Dan’s jacket, but Dan flicked his hand away and took one step back.
“Now you listen to me, you son of a bitch...” said Pink, under his breath. “No matter what you think you know...”
“Tommy. As you can see, your friend Grace told the police an awful lot. What are the odds he gets a slap on the wrist and you go down hard?”
Pink growled and shook his head. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
Dan swiped his hands away and shoved the man back onto his stall.
“No, I forgot. You’re a total saint, Tommy. But if I were you, just in case, I’d think of selling my jet ski so I could afford a decent solicitor. But then again, I reckon you might have a fair old stash put away already. All those Ubers must have been good to you, right? But not anymore, Tommy. Not anymore.”
Dan picked up a pair of Arvani jeans and hurled them at Pink. They landed against the man’s chest. He held them against his body as he watched Dan walk away. Around them, a few market traders and customers looked on. Job done.
“How did it go?” said Eva. Dan had arrived at the brown glass wall which marked the side entrance of the Eastgate shopping centre. He’d found Eva clutching two coffees. She handed him a cup and tried to read his face.
“About as well as I could have hoped,” said Dan. “But I don’t think I’ve made any new best friends. You?”
“The same. I think Mr Grace would like to have throttled me, or worse, until I reminded him of the extra jail time involved. So we did it. We’ve lit the blue touchpaper. I think it’s time to stand back and see what happens.”
“Better stay close. The mood Pink was in, I don’t think it’ll take long,” said Dan. They sipped their coffees and wandered in the busy town centre sunshine, milling around the bus depot where the characters of Basildon mooched, waited and chatted. As soon as they’d finished their coffees they meandered slowly back towards the market square where, as they reached the edge of the market, a loud voice cut across the rest of the market noise. An angry shout, something like a grunt. Eva and Dan looked at one another.
“It’s happening,” said Dan. “Come on.” He led the way, jogging across the street into the market stalls. Eva followed. The noise got louder as they made it through the market lanes to the car park where the delivery vans and lorries were parked. But the source of the commotion was still hidden from view. Dan pointed to the boxy, ugly, two-storey pub that sat by itself on the edge of the market. The pub was called The Target. A bad name for a pub in a rough area. It seemed to be the source of the commotion.
“It’s coming from around there,” said Dan. They hurried on towards the pub, rounding the entire building until they reached a rough concrete storage area at the side, marked off by a tall grey wooden gate. The gate was open. Dan poked his head around the corner, and looking past a stack of metal beer kegs, he saw Pink slamming Grace back against the wall. “This is your evidence. We have to record this,” said Dan in a whisper..
Eva showed him her mobile phone, already in hand. She thumbed the voice memo app and tapped the red button to start recording. They moved to the corner of the wall and aimed the phone as close as they dared.
“What the hell were you thinking?” roared Tommy Pink. A few passers-by lingered near the gate and tried to get a view into the yard before they went on their way. Dan waved them on. “You snitched on me. You snitched on us all. And that’s hardly the worst of it!”
“Snitched!” roared Grace, ready to have his say, but Tommy Pink was too incensed to listen. He clattered the taller man back against the wall and grabbed Grace’s jaw between his fingers..
“You bastard. How long were you creaming pills off the top? Eh? How long? You and Norm jeopardised the whole operation, and now you want to pin it on me. They found the merchandise in his pocket! There was a batch of them hidden in that boat!”
“No there wasn’t!” said Grace. “I made sure there wasn’t. I found it! I didn’t stash it there, Norman did. He double-crossed both of us!”
“You told the cops about the whole operation right down to my bloody jet ski. As if I could believe a word you told me!”
“You put me in the frame!” said Grace. “You’re the one who sold us out!”
“Don’t you dare try and pin this on me. How long had you been robbing me, the pair of you?!”
“What? Come on, Tommy! There was more than enough to go around. You must have been doing the same, making some money on the side. I did a bit, but Norm screwed the both of us.”
“You stupid bastard. It all had to be accounted for. I never took a bean!”
“But it was okay, Tommy, until Norman started getting greedy. I knew he was up to something. He turned cagey on me, acted afraid. When I saw what he was up to, I knew I had to do something to stop him. Tommy. I only tried to protect you...”
“You killed Norm? For me? No way – you did it for yourself because you were going to get found out! You killed him to save yourself. Scum!” Dan leaned around the corner to watch the two men struggling and trading blows. Pink was stocky and strong, but Grace was wiry and fast. The men looked evenly matched. “I think we’ve got enough,” Eva said and stopped the recording.
“Suits me,” said Dan. He waited a moment more, letting the two men sap each other’s strength before he threw the gate open and waded in. Dan ran into the yard. He grabbed Grace and pulled him off of Pink. Both men’s faces were bleeding but they were still savage and angry, like fighting dogs in the middle of a bloody frenzy. Dan hurled Grace back before he could swing again. Pink came at Dan instead so Dan let loose a couple of short, neat punches to the man’s jaw. Tommy staggered back. The shock snapped him out of it.
“That’s enough!” said Dan. “The show’s over.”
Tommy Pink tried to break past Dan towards the gate. Eva got ready to block him, but in the end it wasn’t necessary. As Pink went past Dan, he reached out, and shoved him hard against the stack of metal kegs. They clattered to the ground, rolling in all directions, with Tommy Pink sprawled groaning on top of them. They had Pink and Grace bang to rights.
And yet the show wasn’t over. Not by a long chalk.
Twenty-two
Fifteen minutes after the skirmish behind The Target had all but finished, a dark Toyota saloon pulled to a halt beside the old wooden gate of the pub with a BMW estate police squad car drawing up behind it. Detective Inspector Hogarth stepped out of the saloon and dragged a hand through his unkempt hair. The man looked as irritated as ever, and yet they had done much of his work for him. Eva suspected the moody look was because they had once again proved him wrong. They had yet to share their recording with him, but the look in his eyes said he knew – the PIs had beaten him to it. The only thing they didn’t have was the means. The weapon. Nor did they have the confession or the fingerprints. But Eva hoped those things would come soon enough. But there was one other minor comfort for the DI – and Eva knew he would soon remind her – their client’s gold was still missing. In Pink and Grace’s recorded argument there had been no discussion of any gold or any theft – only of murders, betrayal and treachery. Eva was almost ready to admit defeat. They weren’t going to get their fee. But even if they didn’t get paid, at least justice would have been done.
“Here you go, they’re all yours,” said Dan as he pushed Clive Grace staggering towards Hogarth. Hogarth looked at the tall man like he was biblically unclean, stepping aside as Grace came his way, only to palm the man in the direction of his uniformed colleague – the short young constable they’d seen on the beach alongside one of the older uniforms. The young constable seized his man, but Grace looked unwilling to go quietly, and the older PC was forced to get involved.
“Now, now,” said Hogarth. “You’ll only be making things worse for yourself, Clive.”
“Worse?” hissed Grace, with gore still trailing down to his mouth from his nose. “I don’t see how it could get any worse than this.”
“That all depends on how cooperative you are,” said Hogarth. As Grace was shoved down into the back of a police car, Hogarth turned to Dan.
“I see you’ve been looking after them for me,” he said. “I’m sure all injuries there were only caused in self-defence.”
“They beat each other senseless,” said Dan. “I’m not a thug, Inspector,”
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Hogarth.
“And you should,” said Eva. “These men attacked Dan after we confronted them about what they’ve been doing. And here’s your evidence.”
“Evidence?”
“We’ve got them admitting everything, including who was to blame. The voice memo app on my phone came in very handy. They were discussing a few things I think you’d like to hear.”
Hogarth’s eyes narrowed. “Taking the law into your own hands again
. You should apply for a job on the force, Miss Roberts.” Eva handed him her phone, with the voice memo app ready to play.
“No thanks, Inspector. I’m not really one for taking orders,” said Eva.
“So I’ve noticed. But at least you seem to have some respect for the law. Unlike others I could mention,” said Hogarth.
Dan bristled and shook his head but let the comment pass as Hogarth pressed play on the device. Tommy Pink stood in the back of the yard, the cut above his eyebrow still leaking, his face stark with shock. The man looked like he wanted to throw up. He listened to the recording along with Hogarth, unable to back away, unable to escape being damned by his own words. The horror on his face only deepened. Pink looked away.
“The way you talked on that recording, Tommy, makes it sound like you think you’re innocent.” Hogarth clicked off the sound file. Pink could barely meet his eyes. “You’re not innocent. You’re a dirty, scumbag drug trafficker. You deal in death, Tommy. I’ll admit it. You had me fooled. But if it means one less scoundrel on the street, I suppose I’ll just have to take that on the chin.”
Pink looked up and shook his head. “Look. I’m no victim. But I’m no killer either. And I’m not taking the rap for a crime I haven’t done – I know what he told you about me killing those men, but it’s lies. All of it.”
“What he told me...?” said Hogarth. He paused, his mind already ticking. When he shot Eva and Dan a look, their eyes were loaded with meaning. Hogarth’s eyes narrowed in response, and his mouth firmed up into a downturned line. But he swallowed and left his questions unspoken.
Between Two Thieves Page 30
