The Late Greats (22 page)

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Authors: Nick Quantrill

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BOOK: The Late Greats
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Julia called my mobile and asked me to collect her from the hotel. I left Kath Tasker alone to enjoy the peace and quiet in the park.

‘Where’s the fire?’ I said to Julia, starting to walk back to my car.

She paused before telling me the fire was at Trevor Bilton’s flat. I hadn’t expected that. By the time we’d driven east across the city and parked at the top of his street, the Fire Service looked to be on top of things. We walked as close to the flat as we could. A make-shift cordon had been set up, stopping us getting any closer. I saw DS Coleman directing the police’s activity. No sign of DI Robinson. I tried to get Coleman’s attention. No luck. Damage limitation was underway. It’d drawn a crowd. A mix of rubber-neckers and people no doubt delighted to see Bilton on the receiving end for a change. I spotted Betty Page, the Neighbourhood Watch leader, and pushed through the crowd towards her. ‘What happened?’ I asked her.

She looked at me like I was stupid. ‘Fire.’

I could see Julia out of the corner of my eye, laughing.

‘Anybody in there?’ I asked her.

‘No.’ She turned to face me. ‘More’s the pity.’

‘Right.’ Trevor Bilton’s flat was the downstairs of a shared house. ‘What about the people above him?’

‘Empty.’

It made sense. Who’d want to live above him? I looked at the damage. If there had been people upstairs, I doubt they would have made it out safely.

‘Any idea how the fire started?’ I asked.

She looked at me. ‘How would I know? But I’d shake the hand of the man who did it.’

I thanked her and turned to Julia. I was done. It wasn’t difficult to work out. I already knew who’d started the fire. The watching crowd had grown during the ten minutes we’d been there. We pushed our way back out and headed to the car.

‘London calling’ I said, once we were in and the door was closed.

‘Could be anyone’ Julia said.

She was right. But we both knew who was responsible. I started the car up and pulled away.

‘Where next?’ she asked me.

‘We best find him’ I said. ‘See what he has to say about it.’

 

I drove us to the pub. It wasn’t busy. Most of the regulars were probably watching the fire. The hardcore drinkers standing at the bar ignored me. I could sense an edge in the place. I wasn’t going to be giving Bilton breaking news.

‘What can I get you, love?’

I ignored the barmaid and led Julia towards the stairs. Bilton’s men stepped out of the shadows and blocked our way. I went for jovial and told them how pleasant it was to see them again. The biggest of the three men stepped forward. ‘Geraghty, is it?’

I nodded. ‘I need to speak to your man.’

He laughed and took another step forward. ‘No chance.’ He looked over my shoulder at Julia. ‘He said if she came along I definitely wasn’t to allow you to go up there.’

‘Tell him I can help’ I said.

All three of them had now moved forward and stood around us in a tight semi-circle. The leader spoke again. ‘You can help him? All you’ve done, cunt, is make things worse. I don’t know about you, but we look after our own in this part of the city. We don’t grass and we don’t bring trouble to our own door, so if I was you, I’d fuck off right now.’ He dismissed me. ‘And don’t think about coming back.’

 

It was a stand-off. There was only one winner. I took the hint and led Julia out of the pub. No one made eye contact with us as we left. The barmaid didn’t repeat her offer of a drink. I drove us back to the city centre. It hadn’t been a good day so far. The London gang had stepped things up and they were holding me responsible for finding their money. I knew I was in their firing line.

I pushed the thought to one side and told Julia I’d spoken to Siobhan again. ‘She’s leaving Hull’ I said.

Julia shrugged. ‘Nothing here for her now, I suppose.’

I repeated what Siobhan had told me, how her relationship with Tasker was falling to pieces, how they’d argued following the New Holland reunion, how she didn’t know how to make him happy.

‘Because of Lorraine?’

‘I’m sure she was a significant factor.’ I explained about Tasker’s link to Trevor Bilton. ‘It wasn’t just her buying from him.’

‘So why did he only tell us about Siobhan? Why didn’t he mention Tasker?’

It was a reasonable question. ‘I assume because he was trying to sell a story. Maybe he was holding it back as his ace, to drive his price up. Maybe he didn’t want the attention it’d bring.’

‘I suppose.’

She didn’t seem convinced. I let her catch up with my train of thought.

‘When did Greg start buying again?’ she asked.

‘Around the time the reunion started.’

She was getting there. ‘So you think he was also buying for Kane Major?’

I nodded. If he was clean, it made sense. Major had said he knew about Bilton through Tasker. We lapsed into silence again, both thinking events through for ourselves.

‘Have you heard from Sarah?’ she asked me.

Events had overtaken me. She would be enjoying the sun in Spain. A million miles away from my problems in cold, grey Hull. I shook my head. ‘Not a word’ I said.

 

Julia asked me to drop her at the hotel so she could work. I was left to my own devices. I wasn’t happy at not being able to talk to Trevor Bilton. The fire wasn’t an accident, that much was obvious. If he wouldn’t talk to me, Major would have to. He had plenty of questions to answer. I walked into his office block as the workers were leaving, done for the day. His office door was closed. I walked straight in. Marcus Whittle was heading for the door, pulling a suitcase along behind him. I blocked his exit. ‘Going somewhere?’ I said.

He looked embarrassed.

I pushed him backwards, closed the door. ‘Sit down’ I said. I wasn’t expecting this, but I quickly weighed the situation up.

He reluctantly let go of his luggage and walked backwards to the sofa in the far corner. ‘I’ve got a train to catch’ he said.

‘I don’t give a fuck. Where’s Major?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘No?’

He shook his head. ‘None at all.’

I took my mobile out of my pocket, held it out towards him. ‘Want to give him a call?’

Whittle said nothing.

I put it back in my pocket. ‘Surely it’s not that bad here?’ I said.

‘You can’t get a decent meal, that’s for sure.’

I smiled at his joke and made a show of looking at my watch. ‘Not long until the last train leaves.’

‘Look, I’m not paid to do this kind of thing, alright?’

‘What kind of thing?’

‘Deal with animals. What Kane does is his own business, but I can’t afford to be involved. I’ve got a family to think of.’

The thought of missing the train was opening him up. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere until I let him. Of course he didn’t want to be involved. I didn’t want to be involved like this, but I had no choice, either. ‘Have you been threatened?’ I said.

He nodded. ‘They wanted to know everything.’

‘What did you tell them?’

‘The truth. I don’t know anything about their money.’

‘What did you tell them?’ I repeated. At least he hadn’t been physically attacked.

‘I don’t know anything about Kane’s personal life. I don’t know who these people are, alright?’

I told him to calm down. ‘What’s the situation with Priestley?’ I asked.

‘What about him?’

Fuck’s sake. ‘I thought you might give something approaching a shit, seeing as he’s in the band.’

Whittle shrugged. ‘There isn’t going to be a reunion now, is there?’

‘You haven’t tried to speak to him?’

‘I haven’t been told to.’

‘Has Major spoken to him?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

I couldn’t believe it. Priestley was lying in a hospital bed and he genuinely didn’t care. I stood up and walked across to the door. ‘Who killed Greg?’ I said.

Whittle looked surprised. ‘How would I know?’

‘Take a guess.’

‘I really have no idea.’

I took a last look at Whittle before leaving. ‘Have a safe trip’ I said. It was Major I wanted to talk to.

 

Whittle had every reason to be worried. Drugs and money made people act unpredictably. I headed to the Black Boy on High Street. The pub had been there nearly three hundred years, all dark wood and quiet corners. It was one of my favourites in the Old Town. I bet it had some stories to tell. I ordered a pint of lager and sat in the corner, well away from the other drinkers. I wasn’t sure how seriously I should be taking the gang’s threats. Sarah was out of harm’s way, so they couldn’t get at her, or at Lauren. My mobile rang. It was the office phone on divert. DI Robinson wanted to speak to me immediately. I told him where I was. Take it or leave it. I wasn’t in the mood. Twenty minutes later he walked into the pub. He nodded to me, offered to buy me a drink. Surprised, I took a pint off him.

‘I assume it’s not been a pleasant day, Mr Geraghty’ he said.

‘Not really.’

‘I don’t suppose it would have been, under the circumstances.’

‘No.’

He stared at my face. ‘It’ll be a black eye this time tomorrow. It’ll hurt less.’ He sat down. He took his coat off, folded it neatly before speaking again. ‘What do you know?’ he asked me.

I wasn’t sure how much I knew. Or what I wanted to tell him. ‘Not a lot’ I said.

He smiled and picked up his glass. ‘I thought as much.’

I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or taking the piss. His face was unreadable. He was good. I had to give him that.

‘What’s the score with the fire?’ I asked.

He took a drink before speaking. ‘The fire. Could be something, could be nothing.’

‘But we both know it’s not nothing.’

Robinson put his glass down. ‘Correct.’

‘I saw Coleman there.’

‘Did you speak to him?’

‘I didn’t want to disturb him.’

‘Pleased to hear it.’

‘Major’s solicitor is leaving town’ I said. ‘He’ll be on the last train back to London now.’

‘Like rats deserting a sinking ship’ Robinson said. He looked at me. ‘Those who can still get out, should do so.’

‘Easier said than done, I’d imagine.’

‘Like I said before, you should choose your clients more carefully.’

I laughed. ‘Too late for that.’

‘Consider it a tip for the future.’

‘I will do.’

I watched Robinson straighten himself up, fiddling with his wedding ring. I knew something was coming.

He started. ‘I don’t like this any more than you do, Mr Geraghty.’ He paused. ‘I assume we can talk openly?’

I nodded. ‘Of course we can.’ I trusted him as far I could throw him.

‘We both know who set Mr Bolton’s flat on fire, and why they did it. To be frank, I’m getting pretty fucking sick of it now.’

He had my attention. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying you need to start seeing things more clearly, Mr Geraghty.’

‘My vision is twenty-twenty.’

‘Not from where I’m sitting it isn’t.’

‘How about you give me a clue?’

‘There’s only so much I can do, but let me tell you, you’re barking up the wrong tree.’

I was starting to get bored of hearing him talk in riddles. ‘Spit it out.’

He placed a photograph on the table. ‘Max Fitzjohn.’ It was the man who’d threatened me, who wanted his money back. ‘Nasty piece of work’ Robinson continued. ‘Not the kind to take no for an answer. The people with him are dispensable muscle, but don’t let it fool you. These are bad people, the kind who’d enjoy extracting information from you, if you follow me.’

I followed him. I could feel my heart pump a little faster.

‘I’m not going to bullshit you, Mr Geraghty. There’s only so much information and protection I can give you, and I know you’ve not listened to me or Don so far, but I want you to take on board what I’m telling you and act accordingly.’

‘Act accordingly? What does that mean?’

‘It means start looking closer to home.’

I offered to buy him another pint. I had more questions. He said no. He stood up, said he was expected home. ‘Don’t be a stranger.’

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

I took
DI Robinson at his word. I left the pub and walked across the city centre to Major’s hotel. With Whittle on his way out of Hull, I wanted to make sure Major had no plans to go anywhere. I wasn’t facing this alone. The lobby was empty; quiet music in the background and bright lighting. I waited for the receptionist to finish checking in her customer before walking over. I asked if Major was in his room, and when she confirmed he was, I told her he was expecting me. I knew which room he was in and made my way to the lift. There was no one in sight when I stepped back out of the lift. I made my way to his room and knocked on the door. ‘Room service’ I shouted.

I heard him moving around inside. ‘I didn’t order anything.’

I knocked again.

He undid the chain on the door and opened it. I didn’t give him a chance to react, pushing the door open, sending him to the floor. I stepped into the room, closed the door behind me. ‘Thought it was about time we caught up’ I said.

He picked himself up, looked surprised to see me. He sat down on the bed and waved a bottle of whiskey at me. ‘I’ll forgive you for that, PI. Have a drink with me. You look like you need one.’

I found a chair and sat down, waved his offer away. ‘Not for me.’ He looked like he’d had plenty already.

‘What do you want?’ he said to me.

‘Your friend from London had a word with me this morning. Max Fitzjohn. He wants the money.’

‘I haven’t got it.’

‘Not good enough.’

‘I told you to sort it, PI.’

‘How can I sort it? You owe them money. They want it back. They’re not going to think twice about hurting someone like me. They’ll take me to pieces and where will that you leave you? You need to sort it out.’

‘Do they know I’m here?’

I shrugged. ‘They didn’t say.’

He stood up and paced the room. ‘I haven’t got their fucking money.’

He was scared, but I didn’t really care. I had my own back to look after. ‘Trevor Bilton’s flat was set on fire today.’

He swallowed his drink and stared at me. ‘Fires happen all the time, don’t they? People drop cigs, leave the fucking chip pan on, whatever?’

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