Get Carter (11 page)

The girl called Joy brought me my drink. She was strictly Harrison Marks.

“Ta,” I said. “Cheers, Mr. Kinnear.”

“Cheers, Jack,” he said. “All the best.” Kinnear and I drank. The others kept on looking.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I said.

“Of course not, Jack,” said Kinnear. “I hope I didn’t give you that impression because of that little business with Ray. It’s just that I pay him to know things. You know.”

“Gerald and Les asked me to call and give you their regards,” I said. “Seeing as I was coming up anyway.”

“Nice thought,” said Kinnear. “Nice boys. How are they? How’s business?”

“Pretty good.”

“Of course it is. Of course it is.”

A silence.

“Eric told me about your bereavement.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you know, I never knew he worked for me. I never knew your brother worked for me.”

“Funny,” I said.

“If I’d have known, well, I would have fixed him up somehow.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Nasty way to go,” said Kinnear, “a car crash—Joy, Joy, look, give Jack another drink, no, give him the bloody bottle, that’s better, you can’t offer a man like Jack drinks in pissing little glasses like that.”

I was given the bottle. The girl sitting next to me looked at the neck as I held it upright and giggled. She was drunk.

The man with the gum-boot manner spoke: “Are we here to play cards or are we here to talk about the good old days?”

Kinnear shifted his weight in his chair and gaped at the speaker.

“Harry,” he said. “Harry. Of course we are. Of course—Jack. I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but these gentlemen have brought a lot of money with them—hang on, hang about—perhaps you’d like a hand? A couple of rounds? Take your mind off things? You lads don’t mind? The more the merrier eh? Eric, get Jack a chair, will you?”

“No, I won’t just now thanks, Mr. Kinnear,” I said. “I have to be going soon.”

“Well, you just do as you please. Make yourself comfortable while we carry on.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The man with the greying wig began to deal. Kinnear’s eyes were as black as liquorice. Eric looked as though he wanted to spit at me. I relaxed on the sofa and watched Kinnear. He didn’t like it. He never looked at me, but I knew, and he knew that I knew. He didn’t like anything very much at the moment, from the way I’d got in to the way I was sitting, but he was forced to give me this old pals routine not because he wanted to save face in front of his mateys but because I knew he was narked. It was the only way for him to be. But whether he was narked because a London boy had made his chauffeur look daft and his boys look dafter, or whether he was narked for other reasons, I didn’t know.

The girl sitting next to me said : “You know Les Fletcher, do you?”

“I work for him.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

She smiled her private oh-so-clever-oh-so-knowing-but-oh isn’t-everything-a-drag-smile. It made her look very simple as well as very drunk. I thought the conversation had ended until she spoke again.

“I know him too,” she said.

“Oh, do you?”

“Yes.”

“No,” I said, “do you really?”

“Yes,” she said. “I met him last year.”

“Go on,” I said in a fascinated voice.

“Oh yes. When he came up on business.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He came to see Mr. Kinnear.”

“No.”

“Oh yes. We went about together.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, while he was here.”

“While he was here?”

“He was here for four days. About.”

I shook my head as though I could hardly believe what she’d just said. She went back to looking in her glass.

“I’ll open,” said the gum-boots man. “Give me two.”

Grey Wig gave him two cards. The Rat was next. He stared at his hand for about twenty-four hours and said: “I’ll take four.”

“Three now, one later,” said Grey Wig as he dealt them.

Grey Wig himself took three. Kinnear fondled his moustache.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “What shall I do? What shall I do? Oh—I think I’ll stay as I am.”

Rat Face looked up sharply and Grey Wig gave a thin smile.

Gum Boots said: “Bloody bluffing bastard.”

“That’s what you pay to find out,” said Kinnear. “Isn’t that right, Jack?”

“That’s right,” I said. “If you can afford it.”

“I thought you said you were going soon,” said Gum Boots.

“Soon,” I said. “After you’ve lost your money, which won’t be very long.”

Gum Boots looked at me for a long time. “Clever sod, aren’t you?” he said.

“Comparatively,” I said, giving him his look back.

Gum Boots was about to say something back when Kinnear spoke.

“Harry.” he said, “I don’t like to push, but could you let us know how much your hand’s worth?”

Gum Boots gave off looking at me for a minute and pushed a tenner into the middle. He was about to look back at me when Rat Face captured his attention by stacking.

“Christ Almighty,” said Gum Boots. “Not again.”

Rat Face fidgeted. “Well …” he said.

“Every bloody time,” said Gum Boots. “Every bloody time he stacks. He only goes if he’s got higher than a full house. Why the bloody hell do you ask him to play, Cyril?”

“Harry,” said Kinnear, “however he plays, he certainly doesn’t lose the way you do.”

Gum Boots went black. Grey Wig pushed a tenner in. They all went round a couple of times pushing tenners until Kinnear said:

“Well, I don’t know. Let’s see how we all feel. I’ll follow the ten and I’ll raise it to fifty.”

“What’s that? Fifty?” said Gum Boots.

“That’s right, Harry,” said Kinnear.

Gum Boots sorted out fifty and pushed it in. Grey Wig smiled to himself and did the same. Kinnear pushed in another fifty, then with studied staginess counted out another fifty.

“What’s that?” said Gum Boots.

“That, Harry? That’s another fifty pounds—ten five-pound notes of the realm.”

“Hundred altogether?”

“A hundred altogether, Harry.”

Gum Boots looked at the money and then at his cards which were face down on the table. He was dying to pick up the cards to have another look to reassure him of their strength. He managed to contain himself and somehow he got the hundred into the middle without shredding the notes into little pieces.

Grey Wig gave the classic smile and shake of the head and turned in his cards. Kinnear picked up his cards and
pursed his lips and sucked in his breath and looked at his hand. Gum Boots managed not to drum his fingers on the edge of the table. Kinnear finally stopped playing and said:

“I’ll follow that and go another hundred.”

Gum Boots looked very sick.

“You could always see me, Harry,” said Kinnear.

Gum Boots was staring at Kinnear’s hand as if he was trying to burn his way through to the other side. He had the choice of putting in another two hundred and seeing what Kinnear had got or he could put in another two hundred without seeing Kinnear in the hope that Kinnear would fold at the sight of Gum Boots following. It all depended on whether or not Kinnear was bluffing. Gum Boots had to make a decision. A decision based on the one hundred and eighty pounds of his that was already in the kitty.

He must have decided that Kinnear was bluffing.

“All right,” he said, his voice like water gurgling down a plughole. “Two hundred.”

He pushed the two hundred pounds into the middle.

Kinnear raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Mm!” he said.

Then he got up and went over to a cupboard and unlocked it and took some money out of it. He sat down again and counted out a lot of notes. He put the notes in the kitty.

“What’s that?” said Gum Boots.

“That’s six hundred pounds, Harry,” said Kinnear. “Two hundred to follow you and I’ve raised it to four hundred.”

“Four hundred,” said Gum Boots.

“That’s right,” said Kinnear.

“You’re not seeing me,” said Gum Boots.

“No, Harry,” said Kinnear.

Gum Boots would have swallowed if he could have stopped his Adam’s apple from rushing up and down his neck. Now he was back to where he was a few minutes ago. Except now it was four hundred to play the game. Gum
Boots must have still thought Kinnear was bluffing, but he didn’t want to go to eight hundred next time round. So he saw him.

He reached down by the side of his chair and picked up a briefcase. He took out a lot of money and counted some of it out and put it in the middle of the table.

“I’ll see you,” he said.

“Calling my bluff, are you, Harry?” Kinnear smiled at him.

Gum Boots nodded.

“Well now,” said Kinnear, “let’s see what I’ve got. I’ve forgotten what I had with all the excitement. Oh yes. I expect it’s yours, Harry.”

Kinnear laid his hand down. He had a hearts flush, Queen high.

Gum Boots turned the colour of a piece of very old Camembert.

“Oh come on, Harry,” said Kinnear, “I haven’t won, have I? Go on, you’re pulling my leg.”

Kinnear reached across the table to turn over Gum Boots cards but Gum Boots grabbed them first and stacked them with the pack. Kinnear laughed.

“How about that, eh, Jack?” he said. “Old Harry thought I was having him on.”

“You’ve got to be a good poker player to play poker with a good poker player,” I said.

“Shut up,” said Gum Boots.

Kinnear laughed again. I stood up.

“Not going are you, Jack?” said Kinnear.

“Have to,” I said. “Things to see to.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Well, any time you’ve a bit more time, drop in again. Like to see you.”

“I will do,” I said. “If I can fit it in.”

The girl on the sofa giggled.

“Give my regards to Gerald and Les,” said Kinnear.

“I’ll do that,” I said. I walked up the stairs and over to the door. The silence was hard and pure. I opened the door and it made a very loud noise as it ruffled the fitted
carpet. Everybody was looking at me. I smiled across at Gum Boots.

“I told you I wouldn’t be staying long,” I said. Gum Boots swore.

I went out.

I’d got downstairs as far as the door that I’d come in through when I heard the upstairs door go. I waited. Eric appeared on the stairs. He walked down and joined me. I put my hand on the door knob and looked at him. His eyes were full of not very friendly thoughts.

“I didn’t like that very much, Jack,” he said.

I smiled at him.

“If you’d have told me who you were working for it wouldn’t have happened,” I said.

“Cyril didn’t like it either.”

“Cyril, eh?” I said. “All girls together is it?”

“But you’ve not been as clever as you think you have. You’ve got Cyril thinking. Like you got me thinking. He’s wondering why you wanted to know who I work for.”

“Doesn’t he know?”

“No, he bloody doesn’t. But maybe he’s thinking that Gerald and Les might like to know you’re sticking your nose in. He gets the idea they wouldn’t like that very much.”

“He’s right. So tell him to save the money on the phone call.”

“You see,” he said, “Cyril wonders why you should go to the trouble of playing cops and robbers just to find out who I worked for.”

“I told him,” I said. “Gerald and Les asked me to give him their regards. I’d been told where to find him. Following you was incidental.”

I grinned at the way Eric looked at me. Then he turned away and started to walk back up the stairs.

“Tell Kinnear I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve cleared up Frank’s affairs,” I said.

Eric turned round and looked at me.

“Goodnight, Eric,” I said.

I drove down the narrow road that led away from The Casino. The dark, close trees came to an end and I was back bathing in the rateable value of the yellow street lights. There was nobody about. The California-style houses were still and silent, tucked away beyond the yards and yards of civic style lawn. Where a house showed signs of life naturally the curtains were drawn well back to inform the neighbours of the riches smugly placed within. Well-placed conifers stood sentry over the suburbs’ snug and wealthy taxpayers.

I remembered this place when it was called Back Hill.