The Crooked Beat (13 page)

She leaned in to me. ‘He changed his mind after he had a visitor earlier.’

She was enjoying herself, so I played along. ‘Not family, then?’

‘They showed me their ID cards.’

I nodded. Police. I asked her to describe the visitor to me. She might as well have handed me a photograph of Coleman. I thanked her and headed back to my car. I was being used. Branning had led me to news of Reg Holborn’s death. And now he wouldn’t speak to me. And Coleman, the man who had pointed me in the direction of Andrew Bancroft, was closing my avenues off. It didn’t make sense.

I knocked on Don’s front door and stepped back. If he saw me, he was likely to pretend he wasn’t in. I was banking on him being curious enough to open up if he couldn’t see me standing there. It was the nature of the man. He’d always told me that once you were police, you were always police. It reminded me of Coleman saying they took care of their own. Don didn’t let me down. As soon as the door was open slightly, I had my foot wedged in the door so he couldn’t close it.

Once he saw it was me, he stepped back and opened the door fully. ‘No need for that, Joe. I would have let you in.’

I smiled and followed him through to the living room.

‘Put the kettle on,’ he said, as he sat down.

I did as I was told. I looked at the photographs on his wall as I waited for the kettle to boil. There were more photographs of Sarah as a child and then as a woman. There were photographs of Lauren and some of his wife. There were also photographs of them together as a family. It was all built on lies. I walked back to Don, passed him his coffee and sat down opposite him.

‘What can I do for you, Joe?’

‘Told Sarah yet?’

He leaned forwards. ‘I thought we understood each other on that.’

‘She’ll hear it from someone else,’ I told him. I knew that if Sarah found out I had knowledge of her dad’s affair with Kath Millfield and I hadn’t said anything, she wouldn’t talk to me again.

‘No one knows about it and that’s the way it’s going to stay.’ Don turned away from me. Topic closed.

I asked him if he’d spoken with Roger Millfield.

He stared at me, but didn’t answer.

‘He’s still desperate for me to stop working for him,’ I said.

‘You should listen to him, then.’

‘That’s not how I work.’

Don shook his head. ‘Got your cigarettes back yet?

‘Not yet.’

‘Any leads?’

‘One or two.’ We sat in silence with our drinks until I spoke. ‘Who attacked you Don?’ I wasn’t letting it go. Sarah was depending on me. We both knew that it wasn’t going to be the end of things. It never was. They’d be back. ‘I can help you.’ He was running scared, like Millfield was.

‘I don’t need any help,’ Don said.

‘Sure?’

‘Quite sure.’

‘I could certainly use some help,’ I said.

Don stared at me. ‘I’m not in that game now.’

‘Tell me about Reg Holborn.’ I watched for any reaction to the name.

‘What’s he got to do with anything?’

Don had played it straight. No reaction. ‘He was your ex-colleague,’ I said.

‘I know who you mean.’ He continued to stare at me. ‘Who have you been talking to?’

‘I caught up with Gerard Branning.’ I didn’t mention that he now wasn’t speaking to me.

Don smiled. ‘I trained you well.’

‘It’s my job.’ I knew I was making progress. Before getting involved, Don was leading the life of a retired man, which made his involvement with Millfield’s problems all the more puzzling, especially as he didn’t want knowledge of his affair with Kath Millfield to surface.

Don continued speaking. ‘You’ll know I didn’t see eye to eye with Holborn, then?’

‘I’ve heard that.’

‘There’s no doubting the man was a good detective, even if some of his methods were a bit out of order in my opinion. He was ruthless and wasn’t bothered who he trod on, whether it was a colleague or a criminal. He got results and that made him popular with the bosses. Once you’re on a roll, you’re on a roll. Promotion soon follows.’

‘Did he ever cause you any problems?’

‘I stayed away from him.’

‘He died in a fire recently.’

‘So I heard.’

Of course he had. It was the nature of the job.

‘I didn’t go to the funeral,’ he said. ‘It would have been hypocritical of me.’

‘Dropped a cigarette the newspaper said. The fire got a grip too quickly for help to reach him.’

‘It happens. What more can I say?’

I left it there about Holborn. He wasn’t going to say anything further. I changed the subject again. ‘Tell me about Andrew Bancroft.’

Don put his mug down and stood up. ‘It’s time for you to go, Joe.’

I walked into Niall’s bar. I had to tell him I fucked up with the Horton brothers in Goole. He spotted me and led me across to an empty table. I was still thinking over Don’s reaction to the mention of Bancroft’s name, but I wasn’t surprised. Little was surprising me at the moment. I turned to my brother. ‘I’ve lost the money,’ I said, once we were sat down. I explained what I’d done. ‘It was a stupid idea.’

Niall sighed and leaned towards me. ‘What do we do now?’

He wasn’t too disappointed. It was a minor blow in comparison to what else had happened. I told him about my visit to Sutherland’s ex-wife. ‘I’ll find a way to get Sutherland off our back. It just takes a bit of time.’

My brother wasn’t convinced. One of his mates came over and said he needed his help in the kitchen. I told Niall not to worry as he left. He was as uncertain as I felt, but I had nothing more comforting to say to him.

I stared into space, unsure of what I should do next. Sarah finished serving a customer and came over to me.

‘Any news for me?’ she said.

I shook my head and asked if Don had said anything more about Roger Millfield.

‘Nothing.’

I brought her up to date. ‘I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think I could sort things out so easily.’ I paused, deciding I had to take another chance. ‘I’ve had a name given to me. Andrew Bancroft.’

‘Who’s he?’

‘That’s the question. I asked your dad, but he wasn’t talking.’

‘I’ll ask around if it helps?’

I nodded. I knew she’d ask Don who Bancroft was. I was stirring something up. I hoped I was doing the right thing.

Sarah stood up, ready to go back to work. ‘Don’t shut me out, Joe.’

My mobile vibrated in my pocket. I read the text message from Connor. He was outside my flat and wanted to speak to me urgently. I left the bar and headed straight there.

I found him sitting on the doorstep, clearly upset. We went up to my flat. The best I could offer him was a glass of water. I told him to sit down and calm himself. ‘What’s happened?’

He ignored me and paced the room, running his hand through his hair. ‘This bloke stopped me and asked what the time was. I got my mobile out to check and he boxed me in against the wall, told me he knew all about me, that it was time to pay up.’

I was listening more seriously now. ‘He threatened you?’

‘He was right in my face.’

I told him again to sit down. We needed to go through it from the beginning. ‘So he asked you the time first, right? That was the first time you noticed him?’

Connor nodded. ‘And then he jostled me down an alleyway.’

‘Where?’

‘On High Street. I was cutting through to meet a mate from college.’

I knew the area had lots of narrow cobbled alleyways. They were quiet enough to drag someone down without it being noticed. A lot of the old warehouses were now student flats. The chances of any potential witnesses were slim. ‘What happened when he had you out of sight? Did he take your wallet and mobile?’

‘He didn’t take anything.’

‘Nothing?’

‘No.’

‘You said he knew all about you?’

‘He said he knew what I’d done and I was to pass on a message to my dad. He said they wanted the money for the cigarettes.’

It was George Sutherland’s work. ‘You didn’t ring the police, did you?’

‘No.’

‘Good.’

‘I should tell dad the truth. It’s gone too far.’

‘Leave it for now.’ In this case, the truth didn’t seem such a good idea.

‘What are you going to do?’

I told him I was going to take him home before I did anything else. Then I had a visit to make. George Sutherland had made it clear Niall had no protection, but this was overstepping the mark. I wasn’t standing for it.

‘Order a drink first,’ the barmaid said to me.

‘I don’t want one.’ I eyeballed her and repeated that I wanted to speak to George Sutherland.

She laughed and picked up an empty glass from the bar. ‘Fuck off before I throw you out.’

I stood my ground. The drinkers weren’t making eye contact with me. I repeated myself.

‘Don’t be thinking I need any help in throwing you out,’ she said.

I smiled. ‘I believe you.’

She eventually relented and shouted out for Sutherland. I thanked her and waited.

He eventually walked into the bar. ‘What the fuck do you want?’ he said before pointing at his barmaid. ‘I hope you haven’t given this cunt a free drink?

She laughed and shook her head. ‘Told him to fuck off, didn’t I?’

‘Good.’ He told me to follow him through to his office. The only thing of interest to me was the bank of CCTV screens in the corner. One camera was focused on the till at the bar, another was watching an empty bedroom. There was a rack of DVDs on his desk. Niall’s colleague, Terry Gillespie, had a leaflet advertising gentleman’s evenings and had paid for sex here. It looked to me like Sutherland was filming the extra-curricular activities as a side-line. The man repulsed me. I pointed to the screen. ‘Peeping Tom?’

He told me to sit down. ‘What the fuck do you want, Geraghty? I haven’t got time for this.’ He lit a cigarette. The smoking ban obviously didn’t apply to himself in his own kingdom.

‘I’ve just seen Connor,’ I said.

‘Who’s he?’

‘Don’t take the piss. He’s my brother’s lad.’

‘Never had the pleasure.’

‘I got the message last night.’

Sutherland leaned forwards. ‘I should hope so, too.’

‘Leave my family out of it.’

‘Your brother is fair game if you don’t pull your finger out.’

I walked to the door. I’d said what I needed to. I turned back to Sutherland. ‘You don’t touch him or his family. You come to me if you’ve got a problem.’

‘Sit the fuck down Geraghty and be civil. Otherwise I’ll be offended.’ He smiled at me and leaned back in his chair. ‘I keep asking myself, are you trying hard enough? And I don’t think you are.’

‘That’s your opinion.’

‘Thing is, I’m still not sure if you’re on my side or not.’

‘I want this sorted out.’

‘Pleased to hear it.’ His attention was diverted by a man moving into shot on the bedroom CCTV. A woman followed. I wondered if he knew he was being filmed. Sutherland turned back to me, not interested in the scene. ‘So the thing is, I need to be sure. You’re coming with me on another job tonight.’

‘No chance.’

‘I’m not giving you a choice.’ He picked the telephone on his desk up. I watched the barmaid pick up the call at the other end on the CCTV screen. She passed the telephone to Carl Palmer. Sutherland told him to come to the office. ‘He’ll escort you off the premises,’ he said to me.

I returned to my flat, filled the kettle and put a pot of coffee on. Caffeine would help me think about how I was going to handle whatever George Sutherland was about to throw at me. I called Sarah’s mobile and asked her if she’d had any luck in relation to Andrew Bancroft.

‘Absolutely nothing,’ she said. ‘No one is speaking about him. It’s a closed shop.’

‘Anyone else you can ask?’

‘I’ve tried everyone I can think of.’

‘Not even a hint?’

‘Stonewalled.’

It wasn’t a surprise. ‘Has your dad said anything about Roger Millfield?’

‘Not a thing.’

I wasn’t surprised to hear that, either. I thanked her and said I’d see her soon. I sat back on my settee and closed my eyes. For some reason, Coleman had given me Bancroft’s name, but nobody would talk about him. It wasn’t right. I was sure Coleman wanted me to do his dirty work for him. I woke fifteen minutes later and took a shower, hoping it would perk me up. It did the job and I walked back into the living room feeling much more alert and ready for whatever the evening would throw at me.

I noticed the red light on my answerphone was flashing. I pressed play and listened to the message from Reg Holborn’s son, David. He wanted to speak to me as a matter of urgency and left a number. He’d be available until midnight. I replayed the message and made a note of the number. The dialling code was for London. I found a notepad and pen before returning his call. He answered on the second ring.

‘Joe Geraghty,’ I said. ‘You called.’

He told me he was putting me on hold until he was back in his office. The line went dead and I waited. I was surprised he was working so late. A moment later, he picked back up.

‘Late night?’ I said.

‘It’s always a late night at the moment. It’s an important case. I’m a barrister.’

‘Right.’ That was all I needed.

‘I got your number from the card you left with the lady next door to my father’s house.’

That made sense. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Holborn?’

‘Your card says you’re a Private Investigator. I want to know why you were there asking questions.’

I wasn’t sure how to play it. I was dealing with a man who was both more intelligent and more aware of the law than me. I decided it would have to be the truth. ‘His name came up in relation to something I’m looking into.’

‘And what would that be, Mr Geraghty?’

‘I’m not at liberty to give you the details. Client confidentiality. I’m sure you appreciate that.’

‘I do indeed, but I’m not asking you in a professional capacity.’

‘I’m still unable to help you.’

‘I’m sorry that’s the line you’re taking.’

‘It’s the necessary line, I’m afraid.’

‘Maybe I’ll have to take it further, then.’