A Choice of Evils (3 page)

The evening was looking good. Our first stop was to be a favourite pub over at the East End of London. You were always certain of a good laugh with the resident comedians. A few drinks there to start with and then to a theatre show in the city followed by a nice meal. So away we went with the intention of having a good time.

We reached the pub in time to hear Bad Breath Brady pouring out his nightly dose of blue jokes to make your eyes water. He also liked to dig people out of the audience to embarrass them with some rude jokes, but he gave us all a good laugh which put us in the right mood for the evening.

From there we left for the West End. A seedy little theatre tucked away in a back street offered a bawdy production of the Guys and Dolls show. Imagination wasn’t called for as the visual acts were the real thing. Nothing was barred. A full house sounded a rousing applause at the end as smiling faces from both sexes twittered with delight. Furtive gropes soon disappeared as the auditorium lights came on and respectable smiles returned to their owners. It was eyes down as we walked out with the crowd. I was amazed that Aisha seemed to take it all in her stride especially watching the explicit acts. I wondered what she did for fun back home in the Middle East.

A meal at the Viceroy tandoori ended the evening with a few drinks. Her knee knocked against mine under the table while the waiter hovered for a service tip. Some Indian music played in the background as we finished and left in good shape to make our way home.

Back at my house, Aisha teased me with her pink tongue as I came out of the bathroom. Her fallen skirt and bra lay on the carpet beside her as my arms reached out to embrace her warm exotic body. Our lips locked together before we peeled off our remaining clothes and made it to the bedroom. Then like two apes on heat, we ate into each other like forbidden fruit. A combination of lust, alcohol, passion and need, brought out the animal between us. It was a euphoric experience as our orgasms exploded us into a state of oblivion. Every nerve was satisfied as we melted into each other’s body.

Sleep came quietly leaving us unaware that the carriage clock had swept past eight hours into morning and a rude awakening came from micky mouse as his cajoling laugh filled the bedroom on the stroke of eight o clock. Aisha gave me a knowing smile. It was time to live another day. After a coffee, a kiss and a promise, she left to make her own way back to her hotel. Now the fun was over for the time being.

There was nothing in my post box to shout about. Two payment demands and a royalty cheque from my publishers cancelled each other out. But with the money I had coming it was peanuts compared to this.

The business in hand returned to mind. There were a few days before the 1
^st
February when my meeting with Ahmed would take place at the zoo. I mulled over some ideas as Frank Sinatra sang ‘My Way’ on my stereo. The lyrics suited me just fine. My way was how I liked to do things too.

Today there were three things I needed to do. The first was to start covering my back against Ahmed. He knew an awful lot about me from my autobiography, but I knew very little about him. I needed to build up my own portfolio as insurance in case anything happened to me after he had the formula. The man who could help me to do that was Dave the weasel.

He was an ex-sergeant, who volunteered retirement from the Metropolitan police force. He had no option but to retire. It was either that or the sack. There was more alcohol in his body than blood. Giving evidence in courts, often found him wanting for a memory as too many of the ‘guiltiest’ got off while the innocent went to prison. Dave the weasel always had a money problem. Contributions for the pub trade were always welcome in return for information from him. He still had his contacts in the police force and was able to maintain ‘unwritten co-operation’ by virtue of what he knew about his fellow mortals. ‘That’s the way life is’ he told me on many occasions. I left a message on his answerphone to get in touch as I knew he would.

I had decided to place some listening devices in the homes of Ahmed and Bruce. I needed to learn as much as possible about them both. What better than to hear it from themselves. I knew just the place to get them from, having used them before, when plotting up on an obscenely rich person who had more money than sense. When I was an active thief, I had gone to extreme lengths to avoid meeting my benefactors. ‘Raffles’ was what they called me amongst other names! The little transmitter bugs were very helpful in making things possible. Now they would come in handy again.

A quick cup of coffee and I was on my way to Spymaster electronics. They had every conceivable listening device you could think of. They were in the business of only answering questions, not asking them. Perhaps that’s why business was so good. It wasn’t long before I arrived and explained what purposes I needed them for. Guarantees were guaranteed with more guarantees that the ones I had just bought were the very best.

When I arrived home my green light was flashing a message. My recall button delivered an a.s.a.p. call from Dave the weasel. He was waiting to hear from me. I rang him back for a meeting at the Clipper pub in Rotherhithe Street. He always talked better when he was well lubricated with drink. This evening would be ok, he confirmed.

By 7pm I was on my way. The rain had stopped. It was a chilly evening and a good shot of whisky would warm me up. The pub was no more than ten minutes from where I lived. They served a good meal there too, and it was important to get a meal into the weasel’s stomach before the drink took over him.Otherwise you may as well be talking to a brick wall.

I arrived to find him sat at the bar. His unshaven rugged face did nothing to hide the red end of his alcoholic nose. It had the stamp of a hard scotch drinker. I was glad I was not that bad being partial to some amber nectar myself. At forty, he had no problem convincing anybody he was sixty. His taste for clothes was preserved by a 1960 bell bottom trousers and a tan leather coat that even the Salvation Army would find hard to sell. Yet one thing about Dave was he always wore a clean white shirt. He nodded in recognition as I entered. We pumped out a handshake. With priority in mind, I invited him to a meal as I ordered the drinks.

A pretty auburn haired barmaid showed off her gold bracelets and finger rings as she took my money. The weasel looked at her with nostalgic affection. She returned him a well-practised smile and turned to show her assets from behind. A grin spread over the weasels face as she returned with the drinks. It was a good start to the evening as we waited for the steaks to arrive.

‘Cheers Jack,’ he grinned. ‘It must be a year since I saw you last. But I never forget a face.’

‘Likewise Dave’ I responded. ‘How’s the world been treating you?’

‘Same old shit, just a different day. And you?’

‘Different days with different shit but it’s the variety that counts’ I smiled.

His face creased into a smile. ‘Good’ he continued. ‘Then at least you’re spoilt for a choice. It’s more than I can say.’

We clinked glasses then he lit up his cigarette. I didn’t smoke and hated the smell of the dammed stuff but I suffered the fumes on pain of gain. ‘I have a proposition for you,’ I told him. ‘I need some info on a couple of guys. There’s £200 in it for you.’ The weasels face expressed his interest. ‘I’m interested. Keep talking,’ he asked me. So I did.

I avoided telling him the reasons why and made haste to induce him with a £100 down payment. This quickly disappeared into his pocket. All he wanted were the names and addresses of Ahmed and Bruce. I knew I would be in receipt of those details after my meeting with Ahmed. My plan would be to meet up with Dave the morning after that had taken place. Then he could get the information I wanted. So it was no problem checking them out for me, he assured.

With his fingers rubbing the £ notes in his trouser pocket, he told me what a nice fellow I was and that I should see him more often. The balance would be there on the day I told him. We drank to that as the waitress brought our meals to our table.

Small talk and hard luck stories dominated our conversation. It seemed odd that we were both two disgraced members of society from different backgrounds talking like old friends. But I suppose in a way the rules were simple enough, he told me, the coppers job was to catch the thief and the thief’s job was not to get caught. Once you stepped over the lines all sorts of unwritten rules came into play. Thieves were a nuisance, he told me. He wished he had something to steal. Everything of value had been sold. Even his integrity! God was good on his benevolent days but he couldn’t remember when the last one was, aside from today, he smiled.

Dave the weasel was a tough old character. Nothing seemed to bother him unduly. He was quite philosophical about his circumstances. ‘Who knows what is around the corner for any of us?’ He said. ‘An honest man today can be a crook tomorrow.’ I could not help but drink to that.

Having enjoyed the meal we returned to the bar. Another cigarette puffed out his distress signals. With his other hand, he wrote on a piece of paper ‘Jack. 2
^nd
Feb’. Clipper. 10pm’. I bought him a final drink to indicate my departure was imminent. I knew he would use his feet transport to get home. Or someone would pour him into a cab at closing time!

‘Well Dave here’s to your health,’ I told him.

‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ he smiled sardonically, and then plunged his red nose into his whisky drink. It was time to leave him knowing he would find his way home.

There was no sign of rain as I got into my car and I was pleased with the evenings meeting. So now that I had Flash gun Terry and the weasel on my pay roll things would soon begin to blossom.

I could have walked quicker instead of driving. There had been a police chase and an ambulance was blocking the road. I sat in a queue of cars listening to irate drivers honking their horns. A Mercedes sports car was crunched up like a concertina. I was glad Dave didn’t have a car.

Back home, I beat the carriage clock into bed before it chimed midnight. I had another busy day tomorrow. I needed some eyes to follow Ahmed and I knew just the people for that. Lisa and Laura were two sisters who had failed as actors but they were very good at changing their appearances and I could see a good use for that. I drifted off to sleep telling myself what for?

Next morning, I realised my nightmare was strangling micky mouse as his alarm laugh awoke me for 7am. I had a love hate relationship with the dam thing. But micky always woke me up with a laugh and wished me a good day. It helped.

I made haste for the kettle and wondered what the post would bring. It was an idle thought knowing I was not at the top of the popularity polls. I tuned into my daily dose of radio four. I liked to play armchair politics with the newsreader of the day. Today I was hearing about our former prime minister, Margaret Thatcher, telling the country they had never had it so good under the Conservatives. Had It, was more like it, I thought. It was alright for her, a former green grocer’s daughter, talking from behind her millions. Oh, were not chance such a fine thing for us all, I thought. Grab it while you can!

Having digested the world news from the radio, it was time for my constitutional walk to the paper shop. At least it was dry even though it was cold. Perhaps a meeting in the park with Lisa and Laura would be ok, I thought.

There was no post when I arrived back home only a note from the post office telling me to collect a parcel. I had been expecting a pair of receivers compatible with the transmitters I had bought. It had to be them. I rang the two sisters giving a brief outline of what I wanted them for. Both were intrigued, but for £200 each it was a chance to test out their skills.

With the answerphone switched on, I left for the post office depot to collect my parcel. The two voice activated transmitters had arrived. Wherever I placed the bugs they would record and transmit conversations automatically. The worst things in life surely happened behind your back, I mused.

From there I made my way through the dense traffic to Hyde Park. It was the usual problem finding a parking space but I managed to be not more than five minutes late or early, as I arrived first. Within a few minutes the sisters were walking across the grass towards me. They were so dressed up that it could have been for an audition as they turned on their charms.

Smiles all round was the best way to describe our meeting. An empty bench nearby would act as our office. As greetings faded into business mode, I went through the story of what I needed from them. I wanted photographs, the house, business and car numbers of Ahmed and Bruce. They would need a few quick change disguises each and a pair of walkie talkies to follow Ahmed after my meeting at London zoo. It was nice to watch the excitement bubble up in their faces. I wanted as much info on them as was possible by 1
^st
Feb’ at 10pm as my meeting with the weasel was on the 2
^nd
Feb’. I knew I was cutting it a bit fine, but this would give me the information the weasel needed to check them out. Once in possession of these facts, I could place my transmitters in their houses and act accordingly to what I would learn.

Both Lisa and Laura were bursting with questions but I knew that £200 each was worth more than their curiosity. I gave them each a half down payment which earned me a twin smile. They were to make no recognition of me at the zoo and report back at 10pm that night. What they didn’t know was that Flash gun Terry would be clicking at them too.

After listening to their close encounters with some celebrities and famous film stars, my ears felt a bit sore so I made excuse that I had another meeting to attend. In fact, I had been absent from my typewriter for a few days, so it was partly true. My new novel needed a kick start and my current operations had stimulated my mind. There was no more I could do until the 1
^st
Feb’, so it was a good opportunity to develop the plot. Home then, was where I would spend the next three days.

I said goodbye to the sisters and watched them walk cheerily away. It wasn’t long before I arrived home to test out the listening devices around my home in different locations. So with some typing and a few experiments, I had plenty to keep me busy. It felt like the old days again when I planned my thieving from home. If only the neighbours knew who lived next door to them, I thought.