Get Carter (25 page)

“Mick,” said the boyo against the lav.

The boyo on the floor looked up and saw Peter crawling over the kitchen step. The boyo stopped. But I wasn’t interested in him or his mate.

“Come on,” I said to Peter. “Tell me what Gerald’s going to do to Audrey.”

Peter kept going. Now he was in the open, away from the back door.

“Peter,” I said.

Peter stopped crawling and lifted his head and looked round at me. I raised my arm and took careful aim at his left buttock. Peter’s face crumbled.

I pulled the trigger. Various things happened.

First, the bullet tore flesh and twill away from Peter’s arse. Then he screamed and tried to get his hands to the wound but he was twitching and writhing too much to be able to control himself. Second, both boyos detached themselves from their respective surfaces and took off like the wind down the side of the house in the direction of the road.

Eric dived for the car. I let one go at him but it hit the open door while Eric was behind it. He scrambled into the driver’s seat and kept his head out of sight below the windscreen.

I looked beyond the car to the edge of the estate. A hundred yards away, a white patrol car was pulling up at the end of the one of the roads that ended on the edge of the waste ground. Doors opened and the button men got out and began to walk across towards the house.

Eric started the car. Con got in and Glenda tried to follow him but he pushed her away and slammed the door. Glenda threw herself back at the car but by then Eric, still out of sight, had begun reversing away at top speed. Glenda fell to the ground and screamed and cursed.

I looked down at Peter and stretched my arm out and pointed the shooter at his head. He stared up at me. His mind was almost gone with the pain but not enough not to know he was going to die.

I shot him through the forehead and walked over to the TR4.

By this time the button men had turned back and were racing for their car. Eric had got his car in top gear and pointed towards the road.

I got in the TR4 and swung it round the corner of the house.

In front of me, Glenda was stumbling after Eric’s car. Beyond the car the two boyos were still running. They waved at Eric as the car overhauled them but he took no notice. He’d rather risk them talking to the button men. Eric wasn’t stopping for anybody.

I caught up with Glenda and stopped and threw open the passenger door, just as she’d done earlier for me.

She bundled herself in. She hadn’t much choice. As I took off I looked in the driving mirror. The patrol car was almost at the house. I put my foot down.

When I was almost at the road I looked in the mirror again. The patrol car had stopped in front of the boyos. One of the button men jumped out and waited for them to come to him. The patrol car started moving again.

I squealed the car on to the road and as I straightened up I noticed a group of people walking down the opposite side of the road towards the waste ground. There were two women and two kids and one of the women was pushing a pram. Lucille and Greer and the kids returning from the afternoon’s shopping. Well, there’d be more than
Dr. Who
to look forward to when they got home.

I was going hard but so was the patrol car. I overtook Eric and Con and we all exchanged impassive glances as I turned right at the top of the road. I expected the button men to stick with something they could catch but they turned right as well.

On my right was the estate. On my left were rows of old terraced houses leading back to the High Street. If I couldn’t shake the patrol car I was in trouble. If I did shake it, I was still in trouble. There’d be an all cars alert out by
now and a white TR4 wasn’t going to get very far in this town. I had to get rid of it.

I turned left into one of the terraced streets. I accelerated up the road and turned sharp right just as the patrol car was coming round the corner. I gave it as much as I could and turned left before the patrol car was in sight again. Then left again and right.

I threw the brakes on. Glenda nearly went through the windscreen. I twisted round in my seat and gave her one that laid her out cold. Then I got out of the car and ran round to her side and dragged her out into the road and left her lying there. That’d keep the button men occupied for the little time I needed.

I ran across the road and down a passage. I crossed the back gardens and went down another passage and came out in the next street.

There was an alley at the top of the street. I knew it led to the back of United’s ground. Which was where I wanted to be. I looked at my watch. The match was just finishing. If the button men didn’t come screaming down the street I’d just make it. I’d make it even if they did.

I started to run.

The patrol car came round the corner when I was about two houses away from the entrance of the alley.

I ran even faster and turned the corner. I could hear the murmur of the crowd coming away from the match. The alley was L-shaped and a few supporters turned the corner in front of me, walking towards me. I ran past them and they looked but they didn’t stop. The patrol car stopped at the end of the alley and the button men piled out. I turned the corner into the other half. More supporters. I could just make the end before the alley was flooded with them. Which would screw up the button men good and proper.

I squeezed past a bunch of supporters at the other end. Now I was in the open but I was among hundreds of chattering blokes. The button men didn’t have a chance.

I pushed my way through the crowd towards the car park. Now there were even more supporters milling about. Damp macs stank in the rain. I came to the edge of the car park. The crowd was thinner here. I walked the paths between the cars looking for Brumby’s Rover.

But before I saw the car I saw Brumby. He was talking to a pair of fat smoothies who looked very municipal. They were standing on the edge of the car park near one of the ground’s exits guffawing at one another, all wanting to get away.

I looked back towards the crowd. Any minute now and a button man might be shoving his face through. There was no point in hanging about.

“Mr. Brumby,” I called.

Brumby swivelled his head round and looked at me across the tops of cars. The others gawped too, but half at me and half at Brumby.

“Mr. Brumby, could I have a word?”

There was nothing Brumby could do about it but to say his goodbyes and weave his way between the cars to where I was.

He didn’t ask me what I wanted. He just stood there trying to make up his mind which expression he should be wearing.

“I want to talk to you,” I said.

He didn’t ask me what about.

“Where’s your car?”

“Over there.”

He pointed with his head without taking his eyes off me. I didn’t have to tell him what to do. We walked down the avenue of cars to where his Rover was. He unlocked his door and got in and unlocked the passenger door. I glanced towards the crowd. Still no signs. I got in next to Brumby.

Brumby was sitting half turned towards me with an arm on the back of his seat. Just like at Glenda’s.

“Well,” he said.

“We’re going back to Glenda’s.”

“What for?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

“Now look …”

“You look, Cliff. You look,” I said. “Or don’t you want Kinnear fixed?”

Brumby was silent for a minute or two.

“What made you change your mind?”

“Glenda’s, Cliff.”

Cliff decided to take us to Glenda’s. He faced front and began to ease the Rover out of the space and into the aisle. We joined the queue of leaving cars. I caught sight of the button men at the edge of the crowd. They were trying to push their way back towards the alley. They’d made a right muck-up. They should have stayed in their car and radio’d for help before chasing after me. Now they had to go all the way back and do it by which time it’d be too late. No wonder Kinnear was such a cocky bastard.

A few minutes later and we were swinging left on to the glossy road that led to the High Street. Hundreds of steamy cyclists wobbled and swished around us. The Rover slowed down about fifteen cars back from the traffic lights. I took out my fags and offered Brumby one. As I was lighting us up a patrol car screamed in from the High Street and flashed past us back towards the ground. The lights changed and Brumby slid the car forward. I rolled the window down a little bit and dropped the match out through the gap. We turned left into the High Street.

Neon shimmered in perspective. The grey afternoon was turning slightly blue.

“Let’s have it, Jack,” said Cliff. “What’s gone off since I talked to you?”

“I’ve told you. Wait till we get to Glenda’s.”

“Why all the fucking mystery?”

“What’s the matter, Cliff? You sound worried.”

“Why should I worry?”

“I dunno, Cliff. You tell me.”

“I just wondered why you changed your mind. That’s all.”

I inhaled and said nothing. Brumby turned right and we were off the High Street. Abruptly there were more rows of terraced houses. Lots of blokes walking on their own, all in the same direction, away from the match.

Five minutes later and Brumby was easing the Rover into the curb. I could see he was wondering where the TR4 was.

“Glenda must be out,” he said, trying to work out why.

I didn’t say anything.

We got out and walked round to the lift. Brumby kept looking back as if he expected the TR4 to appear out of nowhere.

I pressed the button and the lift appeared. We got in. I whistled to myself and Brumby frowned at his feet.

We got out of the lift and walked along the balcony to Glenda’s flat. Brumby took a key out of his trouser pocket and unlocked the door. I motioned him to go in first. He wasn’t very keen on the idea but he forgot that worry when he stepped through and heard the sound that was coming from the bedroom.

The projector was still chattering away to itself.

Things occurred to Brumby. He stopped in the hallway and stared at the half open bedroom door. I stepped into the hall and closed the front door behind me. Brumby jerked and turned to face me.

“What …” he said but I interrupted him by saying:

“Let’s go into the bedroom.”

The white wall was still flickering emptily. Brumby stared at it as if he was seeing something very interesting.

“Sit down,” I said.

He sat down on the bed and looked at it and wondered what had happened to the beautiful orange counterpane.

“Where’s Glenda?”

“Shut up,” I said.

There was a small round table next to the bed and on the table there was a red telephone.

I picked up the receiver and dialled the operator and gave her Maurice’s number.

There was no answer. I asked the operator to get me Audrey’s number. She did and there was no answer.

I put the receiver back and sat down on the bed and put my hands in my pockets and stretched my legs and looked at the toes of my shoes.

“You’ll gather I’ve seen the film,” I said.

Brumby said nothing.

“I’m surprised Glenda lasted as long as she did. Shuttling between you and Kinnear, that is. Seeing as she’s such a lush.”

“Where is she?”

“That’s unimportant.”

“Why did she show you the film?”

“That doesn’t matter either.”

Silence.

“Anyhow. The point is I’ve seen the film. Also I know more than I knew two hours ago. I’ve had second thoughts about the deal you wanted to make. I mean, I’m going to do them anyway, but I might as well make a few bob on it, eh Cliff?”

Brumby took his fags out.

“What did you find out?”

“What you already knew, Cliff. What you wouldn’t tell me.”

He stuck his fag in his mouth.

“Can’t understand it,” I said. “I mean if you’d told me then I wouldn’t have walked out like I did, would I?”

“No, but …”

“Still, I suppose you had your reasons. Tell you what though. One thing I don’t understand. How did Frank get to see the film? I mean somebody showed it to him. But who? Can’t figure that out at all. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Cliff?”

Brumby shook his head.

“You’re a lying bastard,” I said.

He twisted his head round slowly, in jerky stages, until he was looking at me.

I smiled at him.

“Come on, Cliff. Tell us all about it.”

“About what?”

“About how Frank got to see the film.”

“Jack, I don’t know.”

“Knock it off, Cliff. I’ve talked to Albert.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look all that well.

“You’ve no need to worry.” I said. “I’m not after you. Just the blokes that did it. You offered me a deal. I’ll accept it. But first you’re going to tell me what you know. The truth. I want the whole picture.”

He took some more drags and nearly went cross-eyed trying to figure out whether he should or shouldn’t tell me the truth.

He decided he should.

“As I said, it wasn’t till after you’d gone last night,” he said.

“What, Cliff?”

“That I found out you were Frank’s brother. I phoned the Fletchers. They told me.”

“What did they say?”

“Not much. But they knew all about Frank. You could tell.”

“How?”

“Just something one of them said.”

“What?”

“I can’t remember exactly. But it was something like Kinnear’s interests being their interests. Something like that.”

I flexed my toes.

“So what did they tell you to do?”

“How do you mean?”

“Don’t be bloody silly. Gerald and Les tell people to do things. What did they tell you to do?”

Brumby looked at his fag.

“Not to create any stink about Kinnear setting me up for you. They told me to stay out of it.”

“They didn’t ask you for any help?”

“No.”

“I wonder why?”

Brumby let that one go.

“So,” I said. “You find out I’m Frank’s brother. How do you feel about that? How does it affect you?”

Silence.

“Cliff?”

“Well, you’re after the blokes that did for Frank.”

“And?”