The Late Greats (20 page)

I heard my name being called. A female voice. I stopped and walked back. ‘Julia?’ I said, looking down the path.

She stood up. ‘Can I come in, Joe?’

I let her in and told her to sit on the sofa. I put the fire on and made drinks. When I returned, she was quiet and calm.

‘Why didn’t you ring me?’ I said. She told me she’d sat on my doorstep for over an hour.

‘I thought you were mad at me.’

‘Why would I be?’

‘The story I was writing.’

I’d considered that, too, whilst sat in Queens. ‘If it wasn’t you, it’d be someone else’ I said.

‘I still feel bad about it’ she said.

I passed her a hot drink. ‘Warm yourself up on that.’

‘Thanks.’

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I put the stereo on. Greg Tasker’s demo CD was still in the machine. The songs really were excellent. I was disappointed he wouldn’t be making the comeback he deserved with it. It might all have been so different. It was the chance of a fresh start for everyone which had turned into a nightmare. Julia was still quiet. I turned around to face her. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was just thinking’ she said.

I turned back and put my mug down. We both knew what needed talking about.

‘I hate the man. I really do’ she said to me. ‘But he didn’t deserve to be beaten like that. We’ve got to help him, Joe.’

‘Gary?’

She nodded. ‘I never thought I’d say it, but we’ve got to.’

I knew she was right. I didn’t like it. Things were likely to get worse before they got any better.

‘Hold me, Joe’ she said.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Julia hadn’t
stayed overnight in my flat. She’d called a taxi and left once we’d finished listening to Tasker’s CD. I woke early and headed to the office, hoping the walk and fresh air would help me think more clearly. I sat at my desk and tried Sarah’s mobile. Still no answer. I clicked on the Internet and went to the local news pages. Nothing new, just the usual sound bites from DI Robinson and his team. I was interrupted by someone walking up the stairs to the office. ‘Help you?’ I said to the man who’d walked in. He said nothing. He was a man mountain. Muscle, shaved head and dark clothes. This wasn’t a social visit. I looked around my desk for a suitable weapon.

He smiled, like he’d read my mind. Pointed at me. ‘You come’ he said.

Eastern European accent. He walked over to my desk. I stood up, ready to face him. I was giving away both height and weight. I recognised him as one of the men who had been following me. I’d seen him in the passenger seat of the car. The people who’d beaten Gary Bilton in error.

‘You come’ he repeated.

I shook my head.

‘You come with me.’

‘No.’

He stepped forward and punched me. Hard. I fell backwards into my chair. I quickly tried to sit up to cut down on my embarrassment. I could taste blood in my mouth. He was quickly around my desk, taking hold of me.

‘I said, you come.’

He bundled me out of the office. Outside a car was waiting. The back door was being held open by another man mountain. He nodded to his colleague and I was pushed into the back and we sped off. Nobody said anything to me and I stayed quiet. I wasn’t giving them anything. The car headed to Hessle Foreshore and pulled up in the car park underneath the Humber Bridge. At least it was a public place.

‘Take a walk with me, Mr Geraghty’ the man in the front passenger seat said. I hadn’t been able to get a proper look at him. He’d not turned to face me during the journey. The door was opened. I was told to get out. It was three against one. I did as I was told.

The man was already on his way towards the path which took you directly under the bridge and ultimately back towards the city centre. I hurried my pace, caught him up. I put him around the same age as me, early to mid-forties. His eyes told me he wasn’t a stranger to violence.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘Doesn’t matter’ he said, pointing at the bridge. ‘Look at that’ he said to me. ‘Very impressive. I bet you don’t even notice it, do you? How long is it?’

‘Not sure’ I said. ‘Couple of miles, maybe.’ I wasn’t sure where the civic pride had come from, given the circumstances. He was older than the Eastern Europeans. Better dressed, too. London accent.

He continued to stare at the bridge. ‘Certainly impressive.’ He stopped walking, turned to stare me. ‘I assume we’ve got your attention now?’

The break-in at the office. ‘You could have just called me’ I said. ‘I’m in the book.’

‘I find actions speak louder than words. You talk to people, they make all the right noises, like they’re listening, but they’re not really. It’s much better to do these things face to face.’

‘This is between you and Kane Major. It’s nothing to do with me.’

The man laughed. ‘You’re a Private Investigator who stuck his nose into our business. That was your choice, so you’re involved now.’

‘What do you want?’ I said.

He turned to face me, relaxing back onto the railings. ‘I want my money.’

‘Can’t help you.’

‘That’s not the attitude I was hoping for.’

‘It’s what you’re getting.’

‘Major owes a lot of money’ he said. ‘I’m here to politely request payment of his debt, but so far, no luck, and that’s not acceptable. We’ll be staying around until we get it, though I must say he’s testing my patience.’

‘I wish I could help you.’

He took a step forward and smiled. ‘You’ve got no choice in the matter.’

I didn’t like the way this was going. ‘I don’t think I’m able to.’

‘We’re owed.’

‘You should speak to Major.’

‘He pointed us towards Trevor Bilton, and as a sign of goodwill, we thought we’d have a chat with him, see if we could it all out amicably. But he denies all knowledge of having our money, despite our efforts to prompt his memory for him.’

I didn’t tell he he’d got the wrong brother. Gary Bilton had kept his mouth shut throughout the beating.

‘I don’t like the situation very much’ he continued. ‘Major owes the money, but we don’t really want to have to touch him. He’s a man with contacts.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s the way of the world. We’ve tried to cut him some slack, so we’ll accept payment from either Bilton or Major. It doesn’t matter which. It’s not my argument to resolve.’

‘Nor is it mine’ I said.

‘Wise up. You don’t have a choice. I can understand you must feel disappointed to have been used in such a manner, but at least we’re grateful for your hard work, even if no one else is.’

I looked out at the muddy water, watched a boat slowly head down the estuary towards the North Sea. I said nothing.

‘You’re going to help us get our money back. We’re friends here, Mr Geraghty, but that can change.’ He turned to face me. ‘How’s that assistant of yours? And her pretty daughter, Lauren?’

It took me a moment to register the information. I felt sick. I stepped towards him, my fist bunched and ready. He met me halfway. ‘Think very carefully about this’ he said. ‘You don’t want to make an enemy of me. You best be a fast worker because I’m beginning to run out of patience with people in this fucking dump. You try to be reasonable, but people take advantage.’ He jabbed a finger at me. ‘Time is running out.’ He turned away from me and started to walk back to his car. ‘I suggest you make an immediate start in finding my money.’

I was looking at a five mile walk back to the city centre, so I was fortunate to quickly flag down a passing taxi, especially given the state of my face. The door to the office was unlocked. I hadn’t been given the chance to close up before my enforced departure. I walked in and took a quick look around. I was satisfied nothing was missing. I washed my face in the toilet sink before grabbing my coat and my mobile. I locked the office up and headed towards Queens Gardens Police Station. I wanted some answers.

The desk sergeant told me DI Robinson was unavailable. I made him call Robinson and tell him that I’d spoken to the man from London. The desk sergeant nodded to the seating area, told me to wait. I was looking at the same, tired posters when Robinson eventually appeared. He had his coat on. ‘Let’s take a walk, Mr Geraghty’ he said.

I followed him out of the station and down George Street.

‘I remember when there used to be honest pubs down here, don’t you?’ he said to me. ‘Now it’s all late-opening bars and pole dancing clubs. I often wonder why.’

‘Progress’ I said.

He cut down a side street and led us to a small cafe. He greeted the owner like an old friend before turning back to me. ‘I’ll just have a cup of tea, Mr Geraghty. It’s too early to eat.’ He told the man I was paying.

I ordered myself a coffee and joined him at a corner table. We were the only customers in the place. Robinson studied my face. It was sore to the touch and starting to swell.

‘Have you heard from Don?’ he said.

‘No.’

‘You were given fair warning about these people’ he said. ‘I’ve tried my best to help you. And so did Don.’

It was going to be like that. I just wanted to know the score. I didn’t want the lecture. ‘Who am I dealing with?’ I asked.

The drinks were brought over. Robinson sipped his tea.

‘He’s not the top man. He’s just been sent here to collect the money they’re owed. The Eastern Europeans are extra muscle.’ He stirred his tea. ‘But you’d already guessed that.’

‘Who’s the top man?’ I asked.

‘An Albanian. I doubt he’ll be bothering you in person. They’re drug dealers, which given the nature of your client, won’t be a surprise to you.’

‘Why are you giving them the freedom of the city? Why haven’t they been arrested?’

He put his mug down and stared at me. ‘It’s not my decision to make, Mr Geraghty. I’m under orders not to touch them at the moment.’

‘Why?’

He shrugged. ‘A wider investigation. I’m not privy to the details.’

‘So you’re going to let them do as they please?’

Robinson smiled. ‘We’re keeping an eye on things’ he said. ‘They haven’t broken any laws since they’ve been here, so far as I’m aware.’

Easy for him to say. I’d have to buy some Ibuprofen before the pain really kicked in.

‘Unless you want to press charges?’ He was smiling at me, but he knew the answer.

Robinson leaned in towards me. ‘Look, I want these people out of my city just as much as I suspect you do.’ He finished his drink quickly. ‘Don’t let me hold you up. You’ve probably got things you need to be getting on with.’

DI Robinson left me sat in the cafe. I had a refill before leaving. I needed to think through what my next move should be. I was under no illusions as to how dangerous the people Major owed money to were. I hadn’t really taken them seriously, thinking I was worth more to them if I was in one piece, but feeling the pain in my mouth, I was revising my opinion quickly. Robinson had left me in no doubt I was involved with heavy people. To be fair, he’d gone out of his way to warn me, but I hadn’t listened. He was right; I’d made my bed and now I was going to have to lie in it. I finished my coffee and settled the bill. I walked back towards the office to collect my car, stopping at the newsagent to buy some painkillers. I dry swallowed two down and headed off to see Gary Bilton. New Holland’s ‘Welcome to Hell’ was playing on the radio as I drove. It couldn’t have been more fitting.

Bilton wasn’t home. I headed to the estate’s Community Centre. The place was quiet. I looked around. On a table leaflets advertised the facilities. There was a well-equipped gym and a recording studio for local residents. A small library offered free Internet access. I’d thought it would be all nasty tasting beverages and cold meeting halls.

I found Gary Bilton in the office. I knocked and walked straight in. I pointed to my face. ‘Snap. They’ve had a word with me, too.’

He wasn’t impressed. ‘What do you want?’

‘We need to talk.’ His desk was covered in paperwork. It looked like his job kept him busy.

‘Julia sent you, has she?’ he said.

I looked for somewhere to sit. ‘She doesn’t know I’m here.’

He looked at my face. ‘Looks like you’ve just got a few scratches compared to me.’

I couldn’t claim I’d taken a similar beating. I changed the subject. ‘What’s it like working on the estate?’

‘You mean because of my brother?’

‘If you like.’ The phone rang, but he ignored it.

‘I’m not his keeper’ he said.

‘Must be embarrassing.’

‘He does his thing, I do mine.’ He swivelled in his chair to face me properly. ‘Do you think people like us have got options? My brother got himself into some bother when he was a kid and he’s had to live with the consequences. Who’s going to give him a job? I’ve long since given up worrying about it. After I lost Julia I did nothing for years until I started studying.’ He laughed. ‘Me studying? I got the bug for learning, fuck knows where from, but I realised I could make a difference around here, do something good.’

‘Even though your brother causes most of the misery?’

‘If it wasn’t him, it’d be someone else.’

‘But you’re happy to turn a blind eye if it suits?’

‘You don’t know fuck all about this place. There are too many good kids on the estate to just give up. Have you seen the facilities we’ve got here? There was nothing like this when I was a kid, that’s for sure.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll show you around.’

He locked the office door behind us. I followed him into the main hall area. A man and a woman were putting chairs out. ‘There’s a meeting on tonight’ he said.

I stopped walking, forcing him to do the same. ‘You don’t want to let your brother win, is that it?’

‘Something like that.’

I wasn’t sure how to feel about the Bilton brothers. I put the thought to one side. ‘Tell me about the blokes who jumped you.’

We left the hall and went into the kitchen area. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘It’s important. You said they weren’t local. Where do you think they’re from?’

‘They were Poles or something. And there was a southern sounding guy who was in charge.’

It sounded about right. I doubted his geography was that good, but he was probably close enough.