The Blue Notes (2 page)

‘Don’t do anything daft, Pepper. I’ll be fine. I just wanted to let you know, that’s all, honest. I wasn’t after money. Let’s just finish our coffee and get going. He’ll be expecting me back.’

‘No, love. Fuck that for a game of soldiers. How’s this? I come back with you now, we pack a couple of bags together, and we get you and the kids into a hotel in town, or somewhere nearby, anyway. On me, like. And I’ll go and try to find that cash. I think I know where it is. And if it’s there, you can have it tomorrow.’

‘You don’t have to do that, Pepper. You owe me nowt. Tommy’s my problem, not yours. But you’re right, I’ve got to get out. I’ll do it tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I promise. He’ll be sleeping it off as usual. That’ll give us times to get clear.’

‘So you’ll let me book you a hotel for after, for you and the kids?’

‘Aye, thanks. Just for a night or two, like.’

‘All right. And I’ll ask one of the lads who’s off duty in the morning to pop round and help you get your stuff moved out. If Tommy so much as stirs in his sleep my mate will hurt him, I promise you that. But it’ll all be unofficial, like.’

‘That’d be great, thanks. I should have gone years ago, I know that, but I kept telling myself that he’d change. That I could actually change him. How stupid is that? You know, that he’d see sense, sober up, grow up. But by the time I knew that he never would I was buggered. Two kids, no money, nowhere to bloody go. We both realised it, like, and that’s when he got really bad. When he realised that I had nowhere else to go, that he could do what he bloody liked.’

‘And you won’t change your mind?’

‘No, not this time.’

‘You’ll go to the hospital?’

‘Tomorrow, aye. I’ll take the kids with me.’

‘Don’t do that. My mate will sit with them at the hotel, maybe take them out for an ice cream.’

‘Thanks, Pepper. But I can’t believe that you’re having to do this.’

‘Don’t you worry, love. You’re a mate, and you’d do the same for me, if our positions were reversed.’

‘It never would be though, would it? You’d batter any bloke who so much as touched you. We both know that.’

‘Aye, I would. I saw what my old man did to my mum. How it started, how it finished up. And it’s simple, isn’t it? Any bloke who hits you once is going to do it again. It’s just a matter of when and how hard, that’s all.’

‘Aye, well. I wish I’d worked that out years ago. But I’d better get off now, Pepper, love. Are you going to eat that shortbread?’

‘You haven’t even touched yours yet, love.’

‘They’d be for the kids. Or at least they will be if Tommy doesn’t see them first. He’s got a right sweet tooth, has our Tommy.’

Pepper had only been half joking when she’d told Rex Copeland that she enjoyed the preparation for a raid more than she did getting ready for a night out. The station was quiet, the bosses and their buzzing Blackberrys had gone home hours ago, and it was just real coppers who were gathering in the briefing room. Pepper was under no illusions, though. Some of the lads were just bone idle, some were as thick as mince, and quite a few were both.

But they all had their game faces on as Chief Inspector Ray Henderson, who’d be leading the raid, briefed the team. He told them that, while the premises were undoubtedly unoccupied at that moment, it was also possible that someone could return at any time. ‘So let’s proceed on that basis. As you’ll see it’s a small industrial unit, and the layout is very simple. Essentially it’s one big room with a small office, a kitchen and a loo at the back. No rear doors. We’ll have two armed officers there in advance of the operation, and we have a set of keys from the owner. Our information is that the weapons are hidden in a false drain under an inspection hatch in the floor just here.’ Henderson used his pen to indicate the spot on the plan that was being projected on the screen behind him.

‘Will the key holder accompany us, sir?’ asked one of the older cops.

‘He’ll be in the command and control vehicle, yes. And, because I know you’re a right suspicious lot, let me say this. As far as we are aware the owner of the building is entirely unconnected with these offenders. But we have kept him close since we briefed him on this, so he won’t have been able to warn anyone, even if he wanted to. And we do have a high degree of confidence in our information, which is based on intelligence from two independent sources, and is supported by recent surveillance of our three main target criminals. And, on that point, I should say that two of them did visit the premises earlier today, and one was carrying a large back-pack both on the way in and out. It’s impossible to tell if he was making a deposit or a withdrawal, however.’

‘How many weapons are we talking, sir?’

‘Hard to say, but they’re all hand guns. At least a couple, possibly as many as ten if we’re really lucky. Stocks vary from day to day, apparently. So it’ll be the luck of the draw, you might say.’ No one laughed. ‘Our armourer will make the weapons safe, and they’ll be photographed
in situ
. Then we’ll all move out, and the surveillance will re-commence. And when chummies come back, we’ll nick them and the hardware.’

‘Have they booby-trapped the place, sir?’ asked the same cop who’d spoken before.

‘You are a little ray of sunshine, PC Baker.’ Henderson waited for the nervous laughter to subside. ‘We’ve got no reason to suspect that they have, but we are using the keyhole camera and the sniffer dog tonight. Needless to say if there’s anything that gives us cause for concern we’ll just have to wait until our boys come back, and nick them while they’re inside. So is everyone clear? We go in quiet and clean, disable the weapons, and get out again. The process takes about ten minutes for an average handgun, apparently.’

There were no more questions, and fifteen minutes later the team rolled out, in three unmarked cars and an unmarked van. Pepper sat between Rex Copeland and a big lad who she hardly knew in the back of the second car. Her body armour was digging in to her hips, but it was a short ride. No-one spoke as they drove, although Rex fiddled with the camera that tech support had given him to use. He was hoping that he remembered how it worked. Since they’d got rid of the civilian snapper DCs like him were expected to turn into proper David Baileys on jobs like this one. And he really didn’t want to get back to the nick and discover that he’d got bugger all.

But Rex Copeland needn’t have worried, because his camera wasn’t needed that night. Nothing exploded when the metal doors were opened, and the redundant drainage pipe was exactly where it was supposed to be. But it was completely empty. No guns, no nothing. Twenty minutes later the unit was silent and dark again, and the cops were on their way back to the station.

Most of them were thinking about the overtime, or the fact that it was turning into a nice, quiet shift, but Henderson, Pepper and Rex Copeland were all thinking about something else entirely. Because they were wondering about when and why the guns had been moved, assuming that they’d ever been there at all. It wasn’t the first time that they’d come up dry on a raid like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, so maybe it meant nothing. They all knew that cons were unreliable and unpredictable by nature, or at least by occupation, so perhaps there was no reason to be concerned about the visit that was paid to the unit by the suspects less than twelve hours before the raid. But maybe there was every reason to be concerned.

Pepper didn’t think about Justin until she got home, but when she saw the big red Jaguar parked outside her house - taking up her space and one of her neighbours’ - she knew exactly who it belonged to, even though she’d never seen the car before. It must have cost what she earned in a year, she thought. As she unlocked her front door she felt a wave of tiredness wash over her, but she knew that she’d still have to sit and chat for a bit. Justin would expect it, at the very least, after spending an evening with Ben.

‘Wine’s on the kitchen worktop’ he called out, while she was taking her coat off. And when she’d poured herself a glass and taken a sip she had to look at the label. She didn’t recognise it, but even with the taste of the stale sausage roll that she’d had for tea still furring up her mouth she knew it was good. And, she didn’t doubt, expensive.

‘Cheers’, she said, when she walked into the living room. Justin was on his laptop, and he barely glanced up at her. She was slightly disappointed.

‘Jesus, the fans do like to bloody chat. When we started this I promised I’d stay accessible, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.’

Pepper laughed, thinking it was a joke. One of the things she’d always liked about Justin was his self-deprecation. But perhaps that had disappeared since the Working Poor became successful, along with the perennial overdraft.

‘No, love, I’m serious. They never bloody leave off.’

‘It’s the price of fame, I suppose.’

‘Maybe, aye. Just give me a minute, and I’m all yours.’

Pepper drained her glass, went back to the kitchen, and returned with the bottle.

‘Top up?’ she said.

‘Better not. My new car’s a bit of a magnet to your boys.’

So he had no expectation of staying. Pepper wasn’t absolutely sure whether to be relieved or not.

‘It’s very nice, your Jag. Did you show Ben?’

‘Aye. We went for a ride. He liked all the techie stuff. Showed me how most of it works, in fact. He’s a bright lad, that’s for sure.’

‘He certainly is. But you know he’ll spend the next month going on about all the things your car does, and that mine doesn’t.’

‘Sorry, love. As the man once said, I can’t help it if I’m lucky.’

‘I think he was being ironic.’

‘Oh, aye? Anyway, I have been. Lucky, I mean. I can’t believe how fast it’s all happened. A year ago we were playing to five drunks and our families in Carlisle pubs, now we’re selling out thousand seater venues. It’s bloody amazing.’

Pepper looked across at Justin. He looked happier and healthier than she’d ever seen him. Slimmer too, although maybe that was the new clothes.

‘It’s what you’ve always dreamed of, love.’

‘Aye, it is.’

‘And is it as good as you’d hoped?’

‘Better, love, bloody miles better. When I’m on stage now I sometimes stop singing, and let the crowd take over. Can you believe that? They know the bloody words better than I do, most of them.’

‘That’s fans for you, I suppose. Not that I’d know. I’ve only got one, and I think he’s going off me.’

‘No I’m not, love.’

‘I didn’t mean you, Justin. I meant Ben.’

‘Of course you did. I knew that. And I knew you didn’t mean Adam, neither.’

‘You’ve heard about him and the infant teacher?’

‘Aye. And she lives up to the name by all accounts. I hear she’s only in her early twenties, and him well past thirty. Who’d have thought he had it in him, the lucky bastard?’

She smiled, and felt the skin tighten around her eyes. ‘And how old are your fans then, Justin?’

‘We’re not a kids’ band, love. And we’re very careful, believe you me. You’ve got to be, these days, like.’

Pepper drained her glass, and hoped that Justin would do the same.

‘I’d better be off,’ he said, leaving the last of his wine untouched. ‘Listen, I hope you don’t mind, but I bought the lad a gift.’

‘Why would I mind?’

‘There might be a bit of noise, that’s all.’

‘Not another video game, Justin? I’ve told you, he already spends far too long on those.’

‘I know. And it’s not a video game, it’s a guitar. A little half size. I showed him a few chords earlier on, and he says he’ll practice every day.’

Pepper smiled. ‘That was thoughtful of you, love, thanks. I’m sure he’ll love it.’

‘Here’s hoping. Who knows, he might even follow in my footsteps one day.’

‘Aye, well. Thanks, anyway.’

Pepper tried to think of something more positive to say, but she was too slow. Justin was already getting up from the sofa, folding his laptop closed, and reaching into his pocket for his car keys.

‘I know you never reckoned what I’m doing as a real job, Pepper, but you were wrong. Can’t you at least admit that? There’s more than one way of making something of your life, you know.’

‘I know, love, I know. How does the song go? ‘That ain’t working, that’s the way you do it’?’

Justin laughed. ‘Aye, that’s about it. Except it’s not just MTV these days, it’s YouTube too. When we’re playing I can sometimes see the first few rows of heads in the audience, and most of them are filming us on their phones. The next day it’s all over the internet, honest. Sometimes I just wish people would just enjoy things as they happen, and not feel the need to work all the bloody time. You know what I mean, love?’

At that same moment, and only a few streets away, Davey Hood pressed a button on his battered G-Shock and started the countdown timer. He used his bolt cutters to get the gates to the yard open, then he rolled the big plastic drum across the yard, keeping up a jogging pace all the way to the diesel pump in the corner. He knew that there was CCTV, and that the alarm would start ringing in a few seconds, but he still had time. Even if someone called it in it would still be at least five minutes before the cops arrived. And he’d be well clear by then, no problem.

The process of persuading the diesel pump to work was simple enough, if you knew how. And Davey most certainly did. He pumped a hundred and fifty litres, feeling the drum fill up. Then he put the nozzle back, and made sure that the pump was turned off again and was absolutely safe. He didn’t want some poor sod getting drenched in diesel, or worse, in the morning. And he smiled when his watch alarm went off, because he’d just finished rolling the drum into the back of the van, had secured it with chocks, and was putting away the steel loading ramps. Then he drove away slowly, and even as he was leaving the industrial estate he still hadn’t seen a police car.

The local St. John Ambulance base was less than a mile away, and it took even less time to reverse the process. And this time he picked the lock to the yard too, so that he could leave the place properly secure when he left. Or, more accurately, he could leave the place no less secure than he found it. But Hood was slightly disappointed to discover that the two ambulances in the yard only took about thirty litres of between them. He’d hoped that they’d have needed more.