The Crooked Beat (11 page)

Sarah smiled. ‘I think we’re well past that, Joe.’

Maybe it was late at night and seeing my brother’s bar doing so well, but I told her I hadn’t felt so low since the end of my rugby days. I was sure it wasn’t jealousy, or anything negative. It was more something that was missing within me.

‘You’ve never really told me what happened to you,’ she said.

Sarah was right. I’d never really spoken about it. I didn’t know where to start, but it felt like the right time. ‘It felt like my life was over just as it was getting started.’ It was difficult finding the right words. ‘I’d worked so hard to get my contract at Rovers, and to have it ripped away from me after only a handful of games, it left me in pieces.’ I smiled. ‘Literally’. Gallows humour.

‘What happened?’

‘My knee. The guy at St Helens tackled me and made sure his weight came down it. It just collapsed underneath me.’

‘Deliberate?’

I nodded. ‘He was after me right from the kick-off.’ I’d stayed in a Merseyside hospital for a couple of days until I had been able to travel back home. ‘I kicked against it when I was told I’d never play again. I wouldn’t listen to the doctors or their advice. Not even Debbie could sort me out.’

‘But she was there for you?’

‘She sorted me out eventually. I did the odd shift in my dad’s pub, but I couldn’t take it seriously. I couldn’t knuckle down to things like Niall had. My dad had been right. He’d told me not to put all my eggs into one basket with the rugby, but I hadn’t listened to him. He wanted me to get a proper job.’

Sarah smiled. ‘It wasn’t for you?’

‘I went abroad for a bit, labouring and working on building sites, mainly. It did me good. I got to see a bit of the world and Debbie understood why I needed to do it. I was only away for a few weeks at a time, but I came back with bit more of a clue and eventually sorted myself out.’

‘It’s normal to want the best for your kids.’ She laughed. ‘If Lauren doesn’t become a solicitor or an accountant, I’ll be very disappointed.’

I laughed, too. I knew she didn’t want that, but I got the point.

‘All I want is for her to be happy. And I bet that’s all your dad ever wanted for you.’

‘He hid it well, then. Niall tried to help us keep things civil, but it was a struggle. I was blaming anyone and everyone for what had happened with the rugby. Niall was there for me when I needed him. He got me through it, really. That’s why I’ve got to help him now.’

We watched people go by in silence. Sarah eventually spoke. ‘I like your dad’s rugby shirts.’

‘They make a nice feature.’

‘I wasn’t there when he died.’ It just came out. ‘I was working in Germany. Niall called me to say he’d been taken into hospital, but I couldn’t get back in time. He suffered a brain haemorrhage. The doctors said it was one of those things which could have happened at any time.’

‘Do you think it was to do with rugby?’

I didn’t have an answer. ‘It could have been.’ I knew she meant well, but it was stirring up too many bad memories. I didn’t want to talk about it.

Sarah stood up. ‘You’ll understand, then. I need to know what happened to my dad.’ She paused for a moment. ‘And if it’s going to get any worse.’

The bar grew increasingly busy as the night went on. My mood changed when I saw George Sutherland making his way through the crowd towards me. I hadn’t spent much time trying to sort the cigarette problem out.

He pointed at me as he approached. ‘I want a word with you.’

I didn’t respond. The people standing close to me started to drift away.

‘I thought it was time we had a catch-up about our mutual business interests,’ he said.

I shook my head. ‘It’s not convenient.’

‘I think it is.’ He beckoned me closer. ‘We can do this the easy way or the hard way.’

He glanced over to the door where Carl Palmer was standing and smiled. ‘Come for a drive with us or I’ll need to have a word with that brother of yours.’

I got into Sutherland’s car. We headed down Spring Bank and crossed the city centre, picking up speed as we hit Hedon Road. There was little traffic on the road heading east. I asked where we were going, but received no answer.

Sutherland waved the question away. ‘Any news for me?’

I told him I had nothing new.

‘Not much of a detective, are you?’

‘Probably not.’

‘I want my money, Geraghty.’

I didn’t reply. We passed the docks and Sutherland spoke again. ‘What do you think to all this green technology shit they keep banging on about, then? Might even make a more suitable career for you if you’re lucky.’

Palmer laughed at his boss’s joke.

‘Who knows?’ I said.

We lapsed back into silence and slowed down as we pulled off Hedon Road. We headed past the flattened site of Fenners and took a right turn at the Preston Road traffic lights.

Sutherland spoke. ‘We need a word with someone. Seems like he hasn’t learned his lesson, either.’

‘Who?’

He smiled. ‘Another debtor.’

Palmer pulled off the main road and drove slowly down a dense road of terraced houses. Every speed bump he hit acted as a punch to my stomach. I realised that I’d been here recently. Palmer pulled up and Sutherland told me to get out of the car. I thought briefly about refusing, but it would be pointless. Whatever was about to happen, I was going to have to be a part of it.

Sutherland knocked on the door, took a step backwards and waited. I was looking at the neighbour’s house. They were either in bed or out. They certainly weren’t going to challenge three men banging on a door at this hour. Sutherland knocked again, louder this time. When the door was opened, Sutherland stepped to one side and let Palmer take his place. Palmer didn’t wait to be invited in, instead forcing his way through into the house.

‘After you,’ Sutherland said to me.

I did as I was told and followed them into the living room. Terry Gillespie was already on the floor, Palmer standing over him. Sutherland nodded and Palmer dragged Gillespie up before throwing another punch, this one breaking Gillespie’s nose. The smell in the room was disgusting. It had been takeaway pizza and cheap lager for tea. Sutherland picked up a chair from the dining table and placed it in the middle of the room. I kept myself out of Gillespie’s eye-line. I didn’t know how he’d react to seeing me. Palmer threw another punch and Gillespie’s head lolled to one side. He took a length of rope out of his pocket and tied Gillespie to the chair. I looked away as Palmer continued to beat him.

It stopped when Sutherland spoke. ‘You let me down, Terry.’

Gillespie could barely focus. He didn’t answer.

‘If you can’t pay me back, you need to make it up to me.’

Gillespie smiled. ‘Fuck you.’

Sutherland sighed and stepped aside. Palmer threw another punch. Gillespie’s head snapped back.

‘Try again,’ Sutherland said to Gillespie.

I needed to get out of the room. The kitchen was as bad as the living room, but it gave me some breathing space. I knew full well why I’d been brought here. Sutherland wanted me to understand the full consequences of letting him down. I took a deep breath and walked back into the living room. Sutherland was breathing heavily and flexing his right hand. He’d joined in the fun. Gillespie’s right eye had closed up.

Sutherland turned to me. ‘Hit the cunt, then.’

I shook my head. ‘No.’

‘Hit him. You’re here with us, so fucking hit him.’

I was rooted to the spot. I wanted to get out of the house and away from them all. Sutherland repeated the order. Palmer moved closer to me. Gillespie slowly started to focus on me. I could tell he recognised me. He looked at Sutherland and started to say something, but it made no sense. I had no idea what he was going to say about me. I stepped forward, closed my eyes and hit him.

Sutherland nodded to me. ‘See. We’re not that different after all.’

It was made clear to me I wasn’t getting a lift back. Sutherland had also made it clear that nothing had changed. I still had the debt to settle and he expected progress. I stuck to the main road and jumped on the first bus heading to the city centre. I stared at my reflection in the window as the city flashed past. What had I become? However bad things were, I certainly shouldn’t be getting involved in George Sutherland’s activities. I turned away, not wanting to look at myself. I’d crossed a line, regardless of what I thought about Terry Gillespie. I should have stopped what was going on, not contributed to it. I was lying to myself. There was no way I could have stopped the beating. I wasn’t even sure I’d wanted to. Gillespie had dragged my brother into this mess and was now paying the penalty. I realised I didn’t give a shit about Gillespie, even when he was being beaten by Palmer. What did that say about me? Maybe Sutherland was right. Maybe I wasn’t so different to him after all.

I’d slept on the settee again and was woken by the sun pouring into the living room. I made a coffee and stared out of the window and thought about the previous evening. I told myself I needed to get a grip. I was under no illusions as to the danger Sutherland posed to me. He would continue to push me, but I had to protect Niall from him. I searched through my mobile and found the number I had for Coleman. I wasn’t sure what I could do about Sutherland. I needed to think about it, but I also needed to focus on Don’s problem. Coleman was working an active case and he had an interest in Don. It was time to take a chance, see if I could make something happen. I sent a text message containing the name Reg Holborn to Coleman and sat down and waited.

The reply came quickly. Fifteen minutes later, he was in my flat. I brewed a fresh pot of coffee as Coleman paced around my living room, flicking through the CDs and books. I’d suggested meeting him close to the station, but he was adamant he would come to me. We were both playing our cards close to our chests. I was sure he had something to tell me. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.

‘Like The Clash?’ he said, pointing to
London Calling
.

I nodded. ‘What’s not to like?’

‘One of my favourites, too.’

I was surprised, but didn’t show it. ‘Must be a bit different to your house, I’d imagine.’

‘Maybe.’ He walked across to the window. ‘Nice view.’

‘It does for me.’

‘It might do for me, too.’

I was puzzled. ‘What does that mean?’

‘My wife’s kicked me out.’

I said nothing. I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this, but I listened. I saw him glance at my photo of Debbie. ‘I’ve moved into a flat on Park Avenue. We’re practically neighbours now.’

‘Right.’ That was why he’d arrived so quickly.

He put his coffee down. ‘Doesn’t seem to be an improvement, though.’

I knew he had a young daughter. It clearly wasn’t an easy situation for him.

‘The old cliché,’ he said. ‘Too many hours at work and not enough of them at home. It takes its toll.’

His card stated ‘Acting Detective Inspector’. Everything comes at a price. We weren’t exactly friends and never would be, but we’d reached an understanding when dealing with each other. I felt sad that he was telling me about his domestic troubles. I suspected he had no one else to talk to.

Coleman got to the point. ‘You wanted to speak to me.’

‘Shall we talk about Reg Holborn?’

‘He was a well-respected detective.’

‘In the past tense.’

‘He retired years ago. Well before my time.’

‘I meant past tense as in dead. House fire.’

‘These things happen.’

‘Not if you don’t smoke.’ Coleman didn’t hold my stare. He didn’t need to say anything more. ‘It wasn’t an accident, was it?’

‘I’m going by what I’ve been told.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘It was an accident.’

‘And this is the ongoing investigation you mentioned?’

‘I’m not prepared to talk about it.’

‘Holborn didn’t get on with Don,’ I told him.

‘Well before my time, Joe. There’s no one around who remembers that far back.’

‘Depends where you’re looking. I talked to people who suggested Holborn wasn’t all he seemed.’

‘I can’t really comment.’

I leaned forward. ‘But people must talk. Old war stories, past glories, that kind of thing.’

‘Not what I’ve heard.’

‘Do you want your wife back?’ I asked.

He was surprised by what I’d asked him. ‘What kind of question is that?’

I shrugged and settled back in my chair. Let him work it out for himself.

‘Of course I do,’ he eventually said to me.

‘You’ll understand, then. There are things we’ve got to do, whatever the cost. This is the least I can do for Don,’ I told him. ‘Wherever it leads.’

Coleman thought about it and came to a decision. ‘Of course people talk. Don was a good policeman. You won’t find anyone who says otherwise. I’m here unofficially. Off the record, right?’

‘Of course.’

‘You might want to look at a man called Andrew Bancroft.’

Coleman left without saying anything further. I wrote down the name he’d given me. Once I was ready, I left my flat and headed to the nearest library. It was busy with a group of toddlers sitting together singing nursery rhymes in one corner. In another, an old guy was reading a newspaper. The librarian set me up on a computer and left me to it.

I entered the name Andrew Bancroft into Google and got too many hits. I tried to narrow it down by putting Hull in alongside the name. I scrolled down the first two pages and found nothing of interest. The woman on the computer next to me complained as I drummed my fingers on the table. I smiled an apology, but she’d already gone back to whatever she was doing. It had been a long shot. Whatever Bancroft had done would be buried in the past and possibly off the record. But it linked to Don and Holborn. It had to be something tangible if Coleman was interested. I would have to do my research using the old school method. I would have to knock on doors and ask questions. It felt like I was slowing making progress.

I headed for Niall’s bar with something like a plan in mind. The door to the bar was locked. I peered in to see him sweeping the floor. One of his mates was restocking the bar. Niall spotted me and let me in.