“No. I was in the process of fixing it. I was fixing everything. Things take time, that’s all. Time you’ve robbed me of.”
Dan looked at the woman as he drove. Her tongue was beginning to loosen. Until now she’d been holding back, keeping tight lipped ever since they’d met. But in her anger and upset, some strands of her story were beginning to come out. Dan wanted to keep the information rolling. The woman narrowed her dark eyes at Dan’s inquisitive gaze.
“What?” she said.
“Fixing everything? What needed fixing?” said Dan. The car pulled out onto the London Road, past the high walls of Nazareth House, a large residential care home which occupied a vast plot of land on the London Road. The only thing Dan knew about the place was that nuns ran it. The Sisters of Nazareth. Habit-wearing nuns and Westcliff had always seemed like an odd mix, but Westcliff was nothing if not eclectic.
They were still miles away from the relative safety of the office, and up ahead the town centre traffic looked as snarled up as ever.
“You’re digging again,” said Alma. “My life isn’t any of your business. Your case was a lie. I shouldn’t even be in this car with you. You should let me out and get out of my life.”
Dan watched the woman reach for the car door handle. He dabbed the accelerator with his boot and as she jerked forward, her hand slipped off the door. She rocked on Mark’s lap.
“Ow!” said Mark. Alma glared at them both.
“That’s not going to happen,” said Dan. “We’re involved in this whether you like it or not, so you’d better start telling us about those guys and what it is that they want.”
“I don’t have to tell you a damned thing,” she said.
“Maybe not. But we’re not going away. We could be friends or foes, depending on how we go from here. I think you could do with a couple of friends right now, don’t you?”
“I’ve had my fill of friends. Cripps is the only friend I need, and you fed him to those scumbags. He’ll be lucky to make it out of that place alive!”
“He seemed a tough cookie to me,” said Dan, but he wasn’t convinced. “Look at it this way. Once I get my teeth into something, I rarely ever let go until the end. Ask my partner. Ask Mark here.”
Mark leaned his head around the woman’s shoulder. “He’s right. He’s like a dog with a bone. He annoys quite a few of our clients because of it, but he does get the job done in the end.”
“Annoy our clients? Who have I annoyed?”
Mark sank back in his seat. He shrugged. “That’s what I heard, that’s all.”
Alma Poulter raised an eyebrow and looked at Dan and Mark.
“I’ve got to put up with your hassle on top of everything else that’s going on?”
“Like I told you. We can be of help, or we can be a nuisance. But with the problems you’re facing, I’d say help is the best option.”
“You two? Why would I need your help?”
“Something tells me you don’t deserve this. You come across as the underdog, not the villain. Maybe it’s the fact we found you in hiding with Cripps, who you just referred to as your bodyguard. Maybe it’s the fact those tablets under your bed turned out to be antidepressants. Maybe it’s got something to do with that sassed-up attitude you turn on everyone soon as you get the chance. You think it’s tough, but I can see right through it. You’re bluffing, Alma. You’re in this up to your neck and you don’t know how to get out – do you?”
The woman’s hard dark eyes sparked at him. “Don’t try to psychoanalyse me – because so far you’re way off key. I can handle this. I can handle all of it.”
“If you say so. But we’re still not going anywhere. So you might as well tell us what’s going on. The full story. Just between us.”
The woman blinked at him. “You should go and get a mechanic and leave me alone.”
“There’s a lot of things I should do, but I don’t do them either.”
The woman puffed out her cheeks before blowing out a long slow breath.
“You want my life story? You want me to tell you while I’m sitting here on his lap?”
“You might as well. I don’t know how long we’re going to be sitting in this traffic. No point wasting any more time than necessary, is there?”
“I’m not a talker,” said Alma.
“No. But you can still answer questions, right?”
“What questions?” she said.
“Questions such as whether you ever seen that guy before? The one who pretended to be your brother?”
“The nervous guy? No. I’d remember a weirdo like that any day of the week.”
Dan tried to read the woman’s eyes but couldn’t see past the darkness. He nodded.
“What about the other guy. The one with the accent.”
“You mean Blunt. Yes, I know him well enough. I’d been off his radar for months now, but I knew he’d come for me eventually. We were going to get The Albany Centre ready. It was the right sort of building for a showdown. We were going to turn it into a fortress… But I was equally happy to postpone the showdown and stay off the radar for as long as we could. You know how that part turned out.” Dan nodded. He saw she had been living in a fantasy, postponing what couldn’t be avoided.
“Where is he from? And why is he after you?”
“Blunt’s not from anywhere. He’s travelled as much as I have. What did that Theresa May woman say? Citizens of nowhere, that’s right. Me and Blunt, Cripps and a good few others I knew, we were all citizens of nowhere and we were happy to keep it that way. I’ve lived in Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Barcelona, Berlin, Paris and Nantes for the last five years, and I was happy in each one of those places. That is, until I wasn’t anymore.”
“Amsterdam… Rotterdam… Berlin…?” said Dan. “Isn’t that a song?”
The woman tutted. “You can joke, but I know you’re already making assumptions about me again. But this time you’re on the right track.”
“You mean you were involved in the drug business… The ‘Dams have something of a reputation as far as drugs are concerned.”
“I was involved in heavily enjoying my life. I mean, look, life is given to you once, right? And each day could be your last. You get no set lifespan, no guarantees. And every day, as soon as it passes, it’s gone forever. You’re getting older every second.”
“I thought you said you were a hedonist? That’s pretty depressing stuff.”
“I’m on Fluoxetine, remember. But no, it’s not depressing. It’s just real. I decided years back I was going to live my life to the full. To the absolute limit.”
“So what do drugs have to do with that?”
“In the beginning maybe they didn’t. It was the music, man, the travel, the lifestyle – I loved it all. It was only later that I saw all the other stuff going on underneath.”
“I don’t get what you’re saying,” said Dan.
“That guy. The one who told you he was my long-lost brother or some other bullshit… he made up a story about how I got in with the wrong crowd so you would agree to track me down – he played on your sympathy, the poor innocent little sister. I get how his scam worked, but he was entirely wrong about that. Oh, he was wrong about the innocent part. I haven’t been an innocent little girl since I started junior school. And by the time I hooked up with Simeon I knew I was getting in with a very wealthy guy. There was nothing innocent in that. I decided I was going to lead the good life. Back then I believed Simeon – he was a music promoter. But over time I saw that music was only part of what he was involved with. And for a short time after that, I kept my blinkers on and pretended what I’d heard was wrong… but when I really worked it out, when I was honest with myself, well, things were never the same again. After that it was only a matter of time…”
Dan listened as Amy Poulter’s voice trailed off.
“Simeon?” said Dan.
“Simeon Garvey,” said Alma.
Dan shook his head and made a face. “Should I know that name?”
“If you were in certain circles, yeah, you’d know. In certain circles on the continent, Simeon is a freaking superstar. In other circles, he’s something else altogether. When I met him, he was just another travelling hedonist following his heart, part of a merry band of chilled souls touring the world doing whatever the hell they liked when they liked. I wanted in with that. So I got involved. It wasn’t hard. But like any trap, the hard part isn’t getting in, it’s getting out. But I had to. There was nothing else I could do but get out. And ever since I left them – Simeon and his hangers on – they’ve been after me, and they won’t stop. It had been so long, I thought they’d lost me, but now they’ve found me again I know they won’t stop until it’s finished. And you’ve just left my only friend, and my best hope of survival lying flat on his back in a room with the man I’m trying to escape. Blunt is a killer, man. A pure cold-hearted killer. At least with me, I had my blinkers on. I might even deserve a little of what’s coming to me. But Cripps, Cripps was only ever part of that tribe for the kicks. He was always on the outside, never trusted by the core. He never knew what was really going on – and you just fed him to the wolves.”
Dan narrowed his eyes. He thought about Cripps, the man down on the floor, and then about the two armed men. If something happened to the guy, he realised he would share at least a sliver of the blame.
“You’re the one they want?” said Dan.
Alma nodded.
“Care to tell me why?”
“Simeon. I shared a bed with the main man, right? And right when he thought he was on top of the world I walked out and left him. He thought he was a king, understand. I suppose I shattered his illusion. Does that make things any clearer for you?”
“So the guy’s mad because you ran out on him. You hurt him and now he wants to hurt you back.”
“That’s part of it. But really, it’s even more basic than that.”
Dan’s eyes sparked. He remembered the battered book with the penned nonsense, names and numbers. The cash. The pills.
“You know too much…?” said Dan.
Alma nodded slowly as the darkness and light of the outside traffic washed over her face. “And that trumps anything else. I’m the biggest risk he’s got right now.”
“Biggest risk to what?”
“To his whole empire. That’s right. Simeon is the centre of the wheel.”
“How big is this empire?” said Dan.
“It’s getting bigger all the time.
There was a silence in the car. The three of them looked out through the windscreen as they considered what had been said. Dan was the first one to break it. “Then they won’t kill Cripps.”
“Why not? They hate me.”
“Because Cripps is their easiest way back to you. Trust me on this, it makes sense. I’ll make a couple of calls. I’ll put the word out to find him.”
“Fat chance of that happening now.”
“We’re going to find him, Alma. We found you didn’t we?”
Alma shifted her bony backside on Mark’s knees and the kid muttered under his breath. Alma shot him another look.
“If you think you can find him,” she said, “then do it. You better find him alive, mind you. If anything’s happened to Cripps, I’m going to make sure a few people pay.”
The woman was a firebrand, and tougher than he’d expected, but Dan wasn’t afraid of her. He’d deal with whatever came his way, though he did feel a debt for the trouble he’d caused. Alma Poulter gave Dan a look like she wasn’t sure if he was capable of offering any help at all. Dan knew the look well. It was similar to the one Eva gave him at least a few times a week.
“We’ll find him,” said Dan, with a hint of defiance.
“Did you know, you’ve got an annoying habit of repeating yourself,” she replied.
Somewhere beneath Alma Poulter, Dan heard Mark stifle a laugh.
Sixteen
The office was empty. Dan scratched his head and looked around as if waiting for Eva to appear from the upstairs apartment, or from behind the kitchen door, but the office stayed silent except for the shrill ring of the bell. Alma Poulter looked around the office interior. She didn’t look too impressed, but then, from the standard look on her face Dan reckoned she never did. The woman closed the door behind her. Without saying a word, Mark locked the deadbolt and Dan didn’t tell him to unlock it. Alma folded her arms and looked around at the neat painted walls, the big wall clock, the desks, and the endless files on the wall at the back.
“So this is what a private investigator’s office really looks like.”
Dan picked up the useless Chrysler car repair manual from his desk. He grimaced and tossed it towards the waste paper bin. The book landed with a slap on the floor.
“It looked better a while back, just after we had it done.”
“It’s an office,” said the woman with a shrug. “It looks better than what’s outside.”
“It probably does. Hamstel Road isn’t exactly Barcelona.” Dan looked around the desks for an explanatory note detailing Eva’s whereabouts, but there was nothing. She must have been in a rush. It wasn’t hard to guess why. Miss Needy of Basildon must have been in a hurry again. That one was always pushing, always wanting more than could be offered. Clients like her were annoying at the best of times, but money was money – it couldn’t be turned down easily. Dan pulled a charger cable from his desk drawer and plugged his phone into the wall socket. In the meantime, he needed to call Dawson. Mark switched his computer on and got busy at the front desk, while Alma’s gaze followed Dan with a moody look which was difficult to ignore. He thumbed towards the kitchen behind his back.
“You like coffee. Get yourself a coffee,” he said, putting the phone to his ear.
“I don’t want a coffee,” she said.
“Then get me a coffee,” he said, with a smile.
“Get it yourself,” said Alma. “I’ll have some water.” She marched past him into the kitchenette as Dan’s call was connected to the police station. He used the same behind-the-scenes number as Eva, the number which should have been off limits to the public. Thankfully, this time PCSO Gill Penner didn’t pick up. Dan struck lucky. Dawson’s voice came on the line, with a typically businesslike greeting. The big constable sounded busy.
“PC Dawson speaking.”
“Dawson, this is Dan Bradley.”
“Dan Bradley, eh? What’s the matter?”
“You know me too well. You haven’t had any reports of any gunshots fired in Westcliff? No trouble reported around the Nelson Street, North Road area?”
“Gunshots around there? No. There’s been nothing like that since the drive-by near Blackdown. Why? Have you got some intel for me?”
“Actually, Rob, I’m afraid it’s the other way around.”
Dawson sighed quietly. Dawson was used to the phone calls and the frequent favours. But it still didn’t mean he liked them. “Okay, what is it this time?”
Dan turned his head towards the kitchen door. He looked over his shoulder as Alma busied herself slamming cupboard doors in the kitchen. He heard the clink of a glass on the draining board, and the tap start to run.
“Have you heard of a woman called Alma Poulter?” He spelt out the name, keeping his voice low all the while.
“Not since you called Bec about it. I take it you’ve had no joy in finding her, then?”
“On the contrary, Rob. The woman is no longer missing, but I wondered if you’d managed to find anything on her at your end.”
“Nope. Nothing as far as I know.”
Dan rubbed his brow and sighed. “The missing person case we were given was totally bogus. The guy who hired us to find the woman lied from the start. Turned out he was armed and had a vested interest in finding her.”
“And you think his gun might have been used in Westcliff?” said Dawson. “You say he’s bogus? Didn’t you check him out before you started the job?”
“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, Rob. I hear th
e police make the odd mistake too.”
“It happens from time to time,” said Dawson.
“Look. We’ve got a big problem. We rescued this girl from a very messy situation – essentially it was a trap. She has two armed gunmen after her who probably have a background in the hard drugs business.”
“Two men? You only mentioned one just now.”
“There are two, believe me. We were set up by one, but there’s another on the loose too. We managed to get away from him before someone took a bullet.”
“Bloody hell. They’re both armed? That’s a bit overkill for Southend, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think these guys are on the same team, Rob. They’re both after this girl because she knows too much about their business.”
“What do you want me to do with this, Dan?”
“I know full well you’re having a lot of problems with drugs in town right now. More than usual. Maybe this could be related, maybe it’s not. Either way, you need to be aware that there are two armed psychos running around on your patch looking for this woman.”
“Why are they looking for her?”
“She could have been involved in a top-level drug business. I’m not certain as yet, but that’s the impression I’m getting. She could be a key witness.”
“Interesting, very interesting. Descriptions?”
“Visualise this if you can. One’s tall, has scary eyes, thin as a stick, short hair, mixture of European and London in his accent. Maybe forty-ish, or forty-five. And he looks mean as hell. Did I say he was tall? He’s tall. The other guy is forty-ish, nervous looking, average height, salt and pepper hair cut like a nineteen eighties schoolboy. He’s armed, but he looks like he doesn’t like using gun. Maybe a novice. But a novice with a gun could be even more dangerous than an expert.”
“And they’re both after your client?”
“She wasn’t our client. She’s the missing woman. Alma Poulter. But here’s the worst bit, Rob. When we rescued the girl, we left someone behind. The man she calls her bodyguard, a guy called Cripps.”
“Cripps?”
“Yeah. And the guy could be in real trouble. He’s forty-something too, looks like an overgrown raver with tattoos all over the place, studs in his ears and too many silver rings. Looks like he modelled himself on the Prodigy guy.
Cuts Both Ways Page 18
