Highbridge (24 page)

They held on to the Motorolas as with no data records anywhere they were just tools of their offshore trade. Another piece of typical British logic. Ownership in itself was not illegal, but using them was. The Barrett was left under the railway bridge, from where it would be retrieved by Billy Higham, once they told him what weapons they would like next.

‘Now Sister Frances was sent by the devil. Defo,' Matt continued as he trained his birdwatchers on the chippy. ‘Did I tell you she used to stroke my backside?'

‘Once or twice. And, if I remember, you only made that up after Joey told us about getting his leg over the woman next door.'

‘Er, I think you mean I felt safe enough to confide in you.' He drifted off into some real or imaginary memory. ‘Pity I was too young to realise what was going on.'

Matt let out a long, regretful sigh at the distant memory and opportunity, in his mind, lost, while Luke had a more immediate thought in mind as he started to dig out a ration pack from the rucksack. Fatchops too was overseeing the lunchtime trade, but also staring at the piece of plastic that had just cost him a sausage dinner. He had been given it by the guy who had come in ranting about reporting him to the Trading Standards people after finding it in his mushy peas. Normally Fatchops would've argued, too used to people trying to get anything free, but the last thing he wanted was to have anybody official poking around inside the shop. Especially as the shard of plastic looked like a piece of the shattered drinks cabinet. He went across to the peas and gravy counter tubs and started fishing. It only took one swirl before he was reaching for his phone.

‘No, Nat. When I heard about Tan being threatened with a knife I just … After Janey. I went hunting. Down the Riverbeck estate.'

Now Natasha became alarmed, but Joey was staring hard at the table, avoiding eye contact. Which worried her more.

‘It wasn't hard, tracking him down. I got enough out of Tanya to get the rest out of one of the street corner gangs. He had one of those daft tidal wave style haircuts. He'd be in the park. Behind the precinct or up on the old bridge across the railway. Third time lucky.'

He then fell into a reflective silence and used the arrival of Roscoe, who plonked his head on Joey's thigh, to avoid looking at Natasha again. Perhaps Roscoe had sensed the need for moral support, but it gave Joey an extra moment or two before having to answer the next obvious question.

‘And?' The anxiety was equally obvious.

Joey carried on ruffling Roscoe's head for a moment until the question came again. More insistent. And in a tone that made Roscoe decide it was time to slope back to his basket. Out of harm's way.

‘And? What happened, Joe? Or is this something else I shouldn't know? Or something you can't trust me with?'

Joey looked across at her. A slowly brewing and volcanic mixture of concern, anxiety, irritation and anger. Trust her? With his life. But admit his failings? Face up to his own imperfections? He couldn't hold her stare.

‘For Christ's sake, Joe. Cut the macho numb act. Just tell me what you did. Or what you shouldn't have done. I've worked that bit out.'

‘I didn't finish the thing,' he responded, his own sense of frustrated anger erupting. ‘I had him hanging off the railway bridge ready to drop him in front of the next train.'

Tanya physically recoiled. Whatever she was expecting, it was not this image he was conjuring up.

‘All I had to do,' Joey continued, ‘was wait. Wait for a train to come through and …' He tailed off again.

Tanya waited. Hoping for the ‘but'. It didn't come. Nothing did.

‘He's moving,' Matt announced. The food was forgotten and five minutes later the Transit was slowly cruising behind Fatchops, who was scuttling down the High Street.

‘Absolutely classic,' Matt said as he watched Fatchops turn into the park and head for the playground area. ‘He's heading for smack alley.'

‘Double bluff, so he thinks,' Luke replied. ‘If the users think it's safe, so will he.'

‘What do you reckon, then? Don't want to be sitting in this thing for too long looking at the kiddies' playground.'

Luke nodded. No one would think they were planning to shoot someone, but plenty would immediately identify them as potential paedophiles. He started to edge the Transit away, watching Fatchops flop on to a bench on the far side of the park. Away from the playground, but right next to another entrance. ‘Let's go round the other side. They'll probably come down Waters Street.'

Which they did. A BMW X5 came to a stop outside the park entrance and three guys got out and headed towards Fatchops. Just as Luke and Matt arrived to watch. One was white, undercut and windswept top hair, wearing a heavy leather duffle-style coat and leather ankle-strap boots. Expensive. From that, and the way the other two – one Caribbean, one Asian – had shaved heads in mid-market designer sweat pants and puffas, obviously not yet earning real money. They let Leather Jacket go out in front suggesting he was Fatchops's next link in the chain, and confirmed by the way he greeted a now nervous but grateful-looking Fatchops. A quick head butt, punch to the side of his head and a push back on to the bench. The sweats and puffas took up positions at either end.

‘Another classic. Don't look at us folks, whatever you do,' Matt chuckled. ‘Easto, like Fatty, you reckon? Looks like he grew up where the hard men wore leather. Stasi. KGB.'

‘Russian Mafia chic?' suggested Luke. Then added with a grin, ‘Or subscribes to Bobby McBain's counterfeights catalogue.'

Matt nodded. ‘Interesting thought. Although the other two probably nicked a box set of
The Wire
.'

They sat watching as Fatchops appeared to be talking eighteen to the dozen, finally showing them the piece of shrapnel he had fished from the mushy peas. Leather Jacket took it and turned it over in his hands. Eventually he nodded, but then leaned in to Fatchops with a pointing finger to emphasise some form of motivational message along the lines of, if this happens again you're dead. It seemed to work, as when he flicked a dismissive hand Fatchops was up and scuttling away, once more at a speed no one would have thought possible.

Leather sat for a moment, leaning forward, examining the piece of plastic. That, the fridge and hearing about the Spudman's engine meant someone was sending them a message. But who? And why? He stood up and headed back to the BMW, with the other two hurrying to get there first. One to open the door for him, the other to get into the driver's seat.

‘Follow?' Matt asked. Luke just nodded. Matt started the Transit and followed the BMW as it pulled away and headed back out of town along the expressway.

‘Until?' Natasha finally asked, still hoping. ‘For God's sake, Joe. Who? What?'

‘Someone grabbed me from behind.'

He finally looked across at her and saw the fear as she was running through all the possible scenarios. Joe dropping the boy. A train hitting him. His friends gabbing. The police? What? What? What?

Quickly he reached across and grabbed her hand. Reassurance. ‘It was Luke. He pulled me and the kid back.'

‘So … So you didn't …?'

Joey shook his head. ‘Luke had tracked me. Pushed me to one side and got hold of the kid himself. Pulled him back up. Calmed him down. Then asked him, really calm, did he understand why I was after his skin? The kid was terrified but nodded. Luke then asked him if he would tell anyone about it. Kid naturally said he wouldn't. He'd have said anything to get away.

‘How … how old was this “kid”?' Natasha suddenly asked.

‘Younger than Tan, not much older than Alex. And I know what you're thinking. He had a mum and dad. Perhaps even together. Probably. Brothers. Sisters. I dunno.'

‘Christ Joe, and you …'

‘Yeah, I know. I know. I was only going to smack him about a bit but he was such an arrogant … He'd told me whatever I did to him he'd do to Tanya … Which is why I lost it. He wouldn't be able to do anything if he was dead, would he? So right then, right there, when he was screaming for his life, I didn't care if someone, somewhere loved him.'

He elapsed into numb macho mode again, until Natasha prompted him.

‘And would you? Really?'

‘I've gone over and over it … And honestly. I'm just glad Luke turned up. Then turned it all back on me. Fed everything I'd been feeding him. How it would be you and the kids, and Sean and his lot, who would lose if I got put away.'

While Joey continued to unburden himself, Tanya started to realise how close all this was coming to her family. Her sister-in-law. Her daughter. Her nephew. Now Joey getting involved. How pervasive it was becoming. No wonder people talk about it as some form of virus-borne disease. Or even cancer. And Joey and Luke were trying to cut it out.

‘Jesus, Joe,' she interrupted. ‘You can't take this on. Shouldn't it be the job of the police?'

Joey couldn't help but give a derisory snort, then leaned forward in his seat. Challenging. ‘Hang on. Last night you wanted them dead. That's why I travelled all night.'

‘What? Who will rid me of this meddlesome priest?'

‘Er, that from one of those period dramas you watch without me?'

‘History GSCE,' she corrected. ‘Henry II said something like that about Thomas Becket, which led to him being killed. It's more about being careful what you wish for. And that was last night. In the, I don't know, heat of the emotion, I suppose.'

‘And that's what it takes to deal with these people. When they attack you. You fight back. There and then.' He was vehement. Driven by emotion. But seeing the worry and anxiety still on her face, he softened again. ‘And I took it that you obviously needed me here.'

She reached forward to him and clasped his hands. ‘I do, but not running round on some vigilante mission.'

‘At least it's in a language they understand.' He sat back again, his impotent frustration still dominating.

‘Oh, like what?' she threw back, equally frustrated. ‘Asking some stupid teenage kid to promise to play nice in future?'

‘Making him aware what will happen if he does it. Sean craps on about making people aware of the consequences of doing drugs. But what about the consequences of selling them?'

‘I know, I know. But isn't that what the laws, and the police, are for?'

She knew she said it more in hope than conviction as she was wrestling with her own position as much as Joey's, so was not surprised when he gave another snort of derision. But then he added, ‘It used to be. But now we have a so-called justice system where everyone has rights. Including the right to feed off other people.' His mind was back on his confrontation with Gustav on the London site the day before. ‘They're everywhere, Nat. Lowlife. Parasites.'

‘So your response would be to just let Luke kill them all?' she kept pushing. While still fishing.

‘They're killing people!' But he immediately held up his hands in apology, realising they were starting to go round in circles. He had also noticed the slight flicker of suspicion pass across her eyes, which was quickly followed up when she asked him about Luke and Tanya's attacker.

‘You talked about consequences. What did he do?' she asked.

Joey broke eye contact. Which told her there was more.

‘What did he do, Joe?'

Joey let out a resigned sigh. ‘He told him he wanted to give him something to remember us by.' He hesitated. She waited. He finally continued. ‘Then he held out a folded hand. You know, the way you give something to someone. Kid holds out his hand. Luke just grabs his thumb … and breaks it. Crack.'

Natasha winced at both the thought and this further image.

‘He just did it. To a kid. So he is right. He is screwed up. He used to be … He used to be a real laugh. Do anything for you.'

‘For you, you mean. And your Janey,' said Nat.

‘Yeah, but … Anyway, we know all this, but … he also made me aware of what he'd been going on about. About his tradecraft. What he did, still does, for a living. And from that moment everything turned over. He was no longer holding back but, well, protecting me. He'd found what he had been looking for. The excuse. To do some hunting of his own.'

‘And where's that going to lead?' she asked, still horrified.

‘I honestly don't know, Nat, but, remember how you felt last night? With your daughter injured in front of you? Keep that right there.' He tapped the front of his forehead. ‘Don't let go of that. Otherwise, they win.'

Before Natasha could even assimilate that thought, never mind respond to it, her phone rang. She looked. Then stood up, alarmed.

‘It's Mr Bryce. He lives next door to Mum,' she quickly told Joey as she answered, listened and then let her shoulders sag in relief as she thanked Mr Bryce. She ended the call and turned towards the door. ‘C'mon, she's locked herself out again.'

‘Up and over?' Luke asked. Matt nodded. They waited until the BMW X5 passed the exit lane before they pulled off and Luke accelerated up to the junction roundabout that flew over the expressway. He timed the gap in the oncoming traffic to slot in, drive across and go straight back on to the expressway, now several more cars behind the BMW X5. If they were watching they would probably have seen the white Transit go off and then relaxed, or if they weren't watching, another white Transit joining the expressway wouldn't register. Probably. But just in case, Luke kept a five-car separation.

It was not long before they saw the X5 indicate and turn off, heading down what looked like an old country lane that had probably, at one time, been the main link between the outlying villages but now, a mile or so along, it became a back route into a sprawling post-war housing estate. The X5 stopped outside what appeared to be the original old farmhouse, now sitting on the edge of what was officially called Downside, although it had become known locally as Downer-side until some 1980s regeneration plan had renewed the street lights and pavements and renamed it Orchard View. Everyone now knew it as The Spew.