The Crooked Beat (27 page)

Sarah shuffled round in her chair to face me. ‘Maybe you had a right to, but you still should have told me.’

She was right. I had no excuses other than my own cowardice. ‘Coleman knows where Bancroft’s body is.’

‘It’s all going to come out?’

‘I hope so.’ I ordered a coffee and sat in silence until it arrived.

Sarah spoke first. ‘My dad didn’t give you a job because of what happened in your dad’s pub, you know? It wasn’t some sort of secret he was using for his own redemption. He had nothing to feel guilty about.’

I held her stare. The thought had crossed my mind. Don must have known who I was as soon as I’d told him my name. I’d met him in a city centre pub and told him about my life. He’d told me my tenacity was impressive and then he’d made me the job offer, subsequently upgraded to a partnership offer, and my life had changed.

Sarah continued. ‘My dad took you on because you were good at the job. You were good at finding the truth and giving it to people. You did what was right. He recognised himself in you.'

She didn’t need to add anything to that, even though I now knew she was somewhat blinkered to her dad’s shortcomings. ‘I was trying to protect him, too.’

Sarah laughed quietly. ‘From me?’

‘From everything, I suppose. I needed to be sure.’

She picked her drink up and took a moment to compose herself. She drank a mouthful and placed it back in front of herself. ‘Where did we go so wrong, Joe?’

Her question took me by surprise. ‘I didn’t realise we’d gone wrong.’ My problems were with Don and what he’d done and what he hadn’t done. ‘If I marginalised you, I did it with good intentions.’

‘You should have trusted me,’ she said.

‘I couldn’t tell you what I knew.’

‘I’m a big girl, Joe.’

‘Even so.’

‘Don’t patronise me, Joe.’

‘I’m not.’ I started to explain that it hadn’t been my place to tell her what I knew about her dad, that I’d tried to persuade him to do it. It sounded weak and worst of all, I knew it.

‘You should have shown some faith in me, Joe, trusted me to help you. I would have done that, you know? I would have kept things separate.’

That was her final word on the situation. Having had her help me with countless investigations over the last couple of years, I knew I was making excuses. There was nothing more to be said. I told her I had a ferry to catch.

‘I can’t believe you’re going through with it,’ she said.

‘I’ve got to. As it stands, I haven’t got enough against George Sutherland. He’ll keep coming back,’ I said. ‘If I have to make a sacrifice, I will.’

Sarah smiled. ‘And that’s you down to a tee, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe it is. What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘What are you going to do about Rebecca? She’s your sister.’

‘And you knew about her before I did.’

She said it with anger. I was going to try and explain why I hadn’t told her, but it would sound like more excuses. I knew this would mean things between us would never be the same again. When I started asking why Roger Millfield had wanted Don and not me working for him, I hadn’t expected it to be for this reason.

Sarah looked up at me. ‘I have no idea what I’m going to do about her, Joe. I have no idea if it’s even fair to tell her.’

There was nothing more to be said. She certainly didn’t need me to point out the irony of her keeping secrets because she thought it was for the best. I stood up, ready to go to the ferry terminal. ‘Take care of your dad,’ I said.

As I walked away, I heard her tell me to take care of myself.

I was travelling light. I had no luggage, only the mobile George Sutherland had given me and the Euros I’d quickly changed at the terminal. My problem was going to be boarding the ferry without being noticed. I’d dumped the van and was travelling as a foot passenger. I was expecting a welcoming committee. I bent down to tie my shoelace, but I was really waiting for the group of men behind me to walk past. They were my best bet to offer some cover. I stuck close to them as we walked onboard. To my right was the Information Desk. In front of me, Carl Palmer had his back to me, busy on his mobile. My heart pumped a little faster. I quickly moved to the left and entered a narrow corridor of cabins. I had the key for mine, but I stopped myself. I had to take every precaution I could. Sutherland could potentially convince a ferry employee to give him my details. I had no idea who he had access to. I didn’t want to be found yet. I found the nearest toilets and locked myself into a cubicle. It wasn’t ideal, but I was staying where I was until the ferry set sail.

I switched the mobile back on and chose to ignore the string of text messages and missed calls from Sutherland. I turned it back off and put it back in my pocket. There was little Sutherland could do about Niall not being on board, but I wanted to totally remove any options he had. Once we were out in the North Sea, I was banking on him being unable to get a mobile signal. I didn’t want him communicating with people in Hull.

I waited until I judged it safe to make my move. I took a cap out of my pocket and put it on. It was the best I could do at short notice for a disguise. I walked back toward the Information Desk with a plan in mind. The ferry was congested with passengers. A loop of messages played over the tannoy, advising when the duty free would be opening. A large queue of people had already formed for the restaurant. It was easy to spot the lorry drivers who used the route regularly. Their eyes said they were bored and wanted the journey over with. The bright-eyed tourists chattered excitedly in a variety of languages.

The onboard cinema was open with a film due to start in fifteen minutes' time. I made my way across to the desk and bought myself a ticket. With Sutherland likely to be actively searching for me, this was my best bet. I went in and found an empty seat in the middle of the back row. I could see the door, but it would be difficult to spot me in the dark.

The film was never going to hold my attention, but more importantly, it finished with no disturbances. The ferry swayed slightly from side to side on occasion, reminding me we were now well out of port. It was time to go to work. I made my way to the bar, bought a pint of lager and found an empty table to sit at. A man with an electric guitar strummed over the top of backing-tapes, playing a mix of popular hits. A handful of people were dancing. I didn’t touch the drink in front of me. I waited. Ten minutes later, Carl Palmer found me. ‘You’re here,’ he said.

‘I am.’ I thought about telling him I was ready to be found, but kept my mouth shut.

Palmer picked up the beer mat and wrote a cabin number on it. ‘Five minutes.’

I waited as instructed and then walked down the maze of corridors, finding the right deck and cabin. I knocked once on the door and stepped back. Palmer opened it and told me to come in. George Sutherland was sitting in the corner. I looked around the cabin. A small bathroom was next to the door with a bunk bed running against the rest of the length of the wall. Against the other wall there was a chair, desk and mirror. Palmer closed the door behind me.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Sutherland said to me.

‘Doing my duty free shopping.’

He sighed and nodded in the direction of Palmer. I felt a blow to the back of my head. It sent me to the floor. Once it was clear it was a warning shot, I slowly stood back up.

Sutherland spoke again. ‘Where’s your brother?’

‘Family emergency.’

I tensed myself for another attack. Sutherland was still processing what I’d told him.

‘Did I not make myself clear enough?’ he said.

‘It couldn’t be helped.’ I kept the smile off my face. Sutherland was angry, but there was nothing he could do about Niall not being on the ferry.

‘I’m not fucking happy about this,’ Sutherland eventually said.

Palmer was smiling at me, like he was hoping I’d give him the excuse he needed to hit me again.

‘We’ll sort this out when we get back,’ Sutherland said. We both knew he had no other option but to let it go. ‘I suggest you fuck off, Geraghty. We’ve got an early start in the morning.’

My cabin was the mirror image of Sutherland’s. I sat on the bottom bunk. The crossing became increasingly rough as the night wore on. I listened to the rain beating against the porthole and let my thoughts run to other matters. I was pleased I’d managed to speak to Sarah before leaving Hull, even though she wasn’t happy with what I’d done. I was sure she understood why I was doing this, even if she didn’t agree with my reasons. My relationship with Don was much more difficult to reconcile. I owed him a lot. He’d given purpose back to my life when I’d needed it, but I hated him for turning his back when my dad needed his help. More than anything, I was disappointed in him. Trying to make amends by linking Frank Salford and Reg Holborn to Andrew Bancroft’s disappearance wasn’t enough. I stood up and walked into the bathroom. I stared at my face in the mirror before running some water. I was still scared for myself and my brother. I was in the middle of the North Sea, heading to Belgium to collect some illegal goods. I wondered what Debbie would make of the situation. Was it justifiable? I washed my face and returned to my bunk, hoping sleep would come. What I was about to do was beginning to feel very real.

I hadn’t been able to sleep. I had too much going on in my head. I gave in as the sun started to rise and looked out of the porthole at Belgium. All I could see was the faint outlines of cranes through the mist and half-light. The shower in my cabin was basic, but it freshened me up. There was no reason to hide, so I walked down to the restaurant and bought a coffee. I found an empty table and stared out of the window as I drank. The coffee was bitter and lukewarm, but it did the job. I stayed where I was as the tannoy made a series of announcements for people to return to their vehicles and assemble at various disembarking points. I finished my coffee and walked off the ferry as a foot passenger.

Because Palmer had taken the van onboard, I’d been told to get myself to Bruges and meet them at the station. I found the transfer bus and sat down at the back, well away from the tourists heading to the town for a day trip. Zeebrugge was very much like Hull, a working port with a landscape dominated by freight containers and cranes. As we left the place behind and picked up speed toward Bruges, the scenery changed. Houses lined the road and a steady stream of cars slowed our progress. The bus pulled up outside the station, and as arranged, Sutherland and Palmer were waiting for me. I watched the groups of tourists head in the direction of the town square and canal tours.

Sutherland walked to the back of the van and opened the door. ‘Get in.’

‘I’ll travel in the front,’ I said.

‘Don’t start, Geraghty.’

I did as I was told and got in the back. Sutherland closed the door behind me. He gave Palmer an address to put into the Sat-Nav. We waited for it to calculate the route before pulling away.

It was only a short drive. I wasn’t going to see the sights the tourists were heading for. ‘Who are we meeting?’ I said.

‘A business contact.’

‘Who?’

‘None of your business.’

‘How dangerous are these people?

‘It’s a business deal, Geraghty. That’s all.’

I wasn’t reassured. Sutherland wanted me there in case a problem arose. I was the sacrifice he’d be more than willing to make. We drove in silence until we pulled up outside a row of industrial units. It was like countless similar ones I’d seen in Hull. The only differences were the language on the signs and the currency on the price lists.

He told me to get out and led the way over. The shutters were still down. There was a steel door to the left hand side of the property which had been reinforced with additional locks. A small buzzer was positioned in the middle of the door. I looked up and saw a CCTV camera staring straight back at me. The lock on the door was released. Sutherland told Palmer to go in first. I was next in line. We walked into an empty space. It was a basic warehouse. In the far corner, stairs led up to an office. The concrete walls were bare, the floor was completely empty. Our footsteps echoed around the room.

We stood in the middle of the floor and waited. Two men appeared from the office and walked down the stairs towards us. They were both around thirty and were wearing battered leather jackets. One was tall with a shaved head, the other one short with blond curls. Both were chewing gum. ‘The boss in, then?’ Sutherland said to them, confirming what I thought. They were muscle.

The shorter one took a step forward to Sutherland. ‘Soon.’

Sutherland was surprised, but continued. ‘We’re all set?’

The two men spoke to each other, ignoring him.

Sutherland smiled and told them to stop. ‘Just English. Don’t be getting clever.’

They ignored him and continued talking between themselves. ‘Where’s the boss?’ he repeated. ‘I didn’t come all this way to be fucked about by you two.’

‘I am here.’

We all turned to see a man walk in through the same door we had. He wore the same leather jacket as the other two, but the way they immediately stopped talking and paid attention to him made it very clear he was in charge. He was slightly older than they were.

‘I’m sick of being fucked about,’ Sutherland said.

The man smiled. ‘Shut your mouth.’

‘Where are the cigarettes?’

He ignored the question and pointed at me. ‘Who is this?’

‘The man I told you about,’ Sutherland said.

I held the man’s stare. I wasn’t going to show any fear. He was doing his best to remain nonchalant and in control. ‘I do not know him,’ he finally said.

Sutherland was flustered, but was cut off from speaking. The Belgian wasn’t interested in hearing from him. He pulled a gun from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pointed it at me.

I took a step back, unable to keep myself in check. It took all my courage to stare directly at it. If I had to die, I was going to face it head on and look it straight in the eye. I wasn’t going to let the man know how I scared I felt. He smiled at me before turning the gun at Sutherland. ‘I keep saying it, but I do not hear an answer. I do not know this man. Why would you bring this man here?’