Wasted Lives, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (18 page)

"Now that you
have seen your friends, give your phone to me", Joseph said,
watching what Bridger was doing but not seeing.  "I wouldn't
want you to try and do something silly. That would only jeopardise
our arrangement". His voice had a slightly patronising nuance to
it.

Bridger placed
his phone on the table in front of him and held his breath. He
watched as Joseph pulled it to his side of the table but left it on
the top in plain sight. He did not bother checking the screen to
Bridger's relief, he could not remember whether it would show his
last text or not.

Bridger was
eager to progress whatever they had in store for him, "Get on with
it please, I don't have all day".

"You have as
long as I say..." The menace in Joseph’s voice was immediately
evident. "You and I have the small matter of evidence to discuss.
Evidence which was planted..., which you planted".

The look of
utter conviction in what he was saying displayed on Joseph's face
unnerved Bridger slightly. He truly believed that someone had set
him up.  

He took
a deep breath and decided his only option was to play the same
game, cooperate in his rules of engagement and see where it
led.

"Okay Joseph,
I'm listening...."

Standing in
the shadows of the sports pavilion's covered concrete shelter
Martin could see the fence line of 'The Pad' across the field. The
golf course was behind him with the stand of trees where Tama had
met his demise, the slight warm breeze making them sway silently
against the blue of the sky, a gentle scene of green hiding a
violent secret in its bosom. There was no sign of the police
though, they had removed the emergency tape, the lights and the
cameras were gone, taking with them images of a life that never
was. It was as if nothing had even happened, as always when the
circus left town. It left only an empty hole in which the fleeting
promises of freedom withered and died a lonely death.  

One life would
never move on though, he thought bitterly looking at the ugly
fortifications of the culprit’s castle across the road.

Behind the
walls, protected by tin and wood, watched over by a horde of
minions blinded by a false loyalty, sat the dreadlocked devil
himself.

Joseph’s
BMW had arrived a short while ago parking in its usual place
directly outside the gates partially over a bus stop. It was driven
by one of his men, Bazz Ropata had gotten out of the passenger side
and both had gone inside the gates. Martin wondered what had
happened to the police car that Baz was driving, an uneasy feeling
rumbled in the pit of his stomach.

He drew in a
breath and then started walking over towards the pad, knowing that
as soon as he got into the open of the field he would be in plain
sight of the sentries, they would know he was coming and there
would be no turning back.

Walking
across the field he could feel the eyes on him, he was taking a
risk going to see Joseph with what had happened to Tama, but he
needed to know what had happened, why it had all fallen apart. He
had no idea how Joseph would react or whether he would see him as a
threat. He looked at the bag he had retrieved from near Tama's body
last night, a little less weighty now but he hoped it would still
have the desired effect.

The barking
started as he approached the gate, the hyped up sentries straining
at their lead, eager to do some damage. Tama's death must have
stirred things up. He looked up to the top of the fence; wired eyes
looked back, eyes cold and bloodshot. They had tasted blood, the
dripping remnants displayed on their faces, and they had not quite
had their fill.

The gate swung
inwards revealing the interior for a short time, a world visible to
only a few. He stepped inside and the gate slammed shut. The
barking stopped and he felt eyes on him once again, the silence was
unnerving.

Looking around
him, he saw the faces, a mixture of fear and awe. Some were eying
the bag suspiciously as if it presented a danger; others were
looking at him as if he that presented the danger.

Joseph
stepped out of the shadows of the front porch and stood at the top
of the stairs with his arms crossed. Martin sensed it was more
defensive in nature than a confident pose, something he had not
seen from the leader before.

He felt a
funny sort of respect from the yard full of dogs, as if he had
risen in the pack and was now able to contest the Alpha status.

J man's eyes
had not left the bag Martin was holding.

"What's up
Star?" The question was innocent enough, the tone uncertain.

Martin
looked from Joseph to the bag he was holding then around at the
minions encircling him. Their eyes were firmly on him, ignoring the
old Alpha at the head.

A realisation
came over him, they think that he killed Tama, they were thinking
the shotgun was in the bag he had with him. The thought slammed
into his brain like adrenalin, they were afraid of him and it was
that fear that their misplaced respect grew from. It was a strange
feeling but it felt oddly comfortable, it made him feel wanted. He
knew he could get used to this feeling if he let himself.

However,
if they thought he killed Tama then they had not been responsible,
and if they had not been responsible then who had? He was sure
Tama's death had been at the hands of Joseph or one of his minions,
Joseph had most to gain from Tama's demise.

The
thought slightly unnerved him, he was sure it had been the gang.
They were the only ones that could have been responsible, no one
else stood to gain anything. He pushed the thought to the back of
his mind.

What did it
really matter, he thought, Tama was dead. He would not let this new
twist impact on his plan to move on from this place.

He
looked back up at Joseph who had not moved or said anything since
his initial greeting, he could not read the expression on his face
clearly but he did not trust him at all so decided to stay silent
about Tama and see where it went.

"Can I speak
with you J man?"

"Sure
Star, sure.... Come in", Joseph stood aside and indicated the
darkness of the hallway like a serpent guarding the entrance to his
lair.

Martin
took the stairs one at a time, he saw Baz Ropata lurking in his
peripheral vision. He had a look of contempt on his face as his
eyes followed him as he crossed towards the door. In some ways, Baz
had always scared him more than Joseph had. He was like a scorned
second prince unable to ascend the throne by virtue of his
circumstance. Always second to those born into the life before him.
That made him a very dangerous man and Martin had seen that right
away.

He
shivered slightly as he entered the hallway, he felt Baz's look
cutting into his back like a traitors knife. He ignored the feeling
and followed Joseph further into the interior. He had business to
attend to inside.

This time the
feeling inside the main building had changed, the party had moved
on, the doors in the hall shut tight.

There
were two boys standing outside one of the doors that looked like
sentries on a post, put there to guard something. They were both
younger than Martin but they had an arrogance about them that came
from a false belief in what they belonged to and what they stood
for. They had nothing outside the gang to give them any sense of
purpose.

They had
been slouching against the wall, but as Joseph came into view, they
both stood and looked alert. When they saw Martin behind him the
look in their eyes changed slightly, it went from the arrogant
indifference to something else that Martin could not quite place.
Whatever it was, they directed it at Martin and not at
Joseph.

"What's in the
room J man?" Martin asked as they went by.

"Just a bit of
business that’s all, looking after my father’s well being".

Joseph
did not elaborate anymore and Martin left it at that, not really
bothered either way.

Joseph
led them into the same room they were in the previous day but the
curtains were open revealing a room that looked like it had seen
everything that a depraved life had to offer. It had a smell of
sickness and decay. Stale air invaded his nostrils.

"Sit
down, let's talk" Joseph indicated the old sofa on the edge of the
room. He cleared the debris onto the floor and moved a half-empty
can of beer that had lodged itself between the seat cushion and the
back. "Can I get you a beer Star?"

"No thanks,
this won't take long". Martin lifted the bag slightly as he sat
down placing it on his lap.

Joseph's
eyes shot straight to the bag and his body tensed slightly before
he regained his usual swagger. It was only an instant but Martin
had seen it, Joseph Kingi was afraid of him.

"Tama's dead,"
Martin said without emotion.

"Yeah,
that's a real shame, T was one of the good ones" Joseph's eyes were
going from Martin to the bag and back as he spoke. "Do you know who
did it?"

Martin
decided to push things a little. "You put him there J man, he
wouldn't be dead now if he hadn't got mixed up with you and the
pack of mongrels that follow you about. I'm here to let you know
that it’s over... it’s gone too far."

There
was no anger from Joseph in return for Martins description of the
gang. "What are you going to do?” The fear in Joseph's voice was
evident and he could not take his eyes off the bag.

Martin moved
the bag to the side of his feet and lent down towards it.

Joseph's
breath caught in his throat and he backed away slightly. Martin
looked directly into Joseph's eyes; the power had shifted for the
second time in two days, first with his stepfather now with Joseph.
He was in control of the situation, the inadequate shameful feeling
he constantly carried with him was dissipating. It was as if a
light switched on inside his head, he smiled inwardly thinking of
the new life he would lead, free of all of this.

"I'm
leaving..., from this neighbourhood and this shit-hole town. I'm
heading north; I just needed to see for myself"

"See what
Star? What did you need to see?"

Martin
stood up prompting Joseph to take a further step backwards, fear
and confusion fighting for prominence behind his dark eyes. Martin
saw it all, displayed clearly on his face. Joseph was frightened
and Martin enjoyed the feeling it was giving him. This was what he
wanted to see, the only constant in the life Joseph Kingi led was
the need for power and control; take that away and it left him with
nothing, just like everybody else. There is always a bigger fish in
the pond and today Martin felt like a killer whale.

He
hefted the empty bag over his shoulder, turned his back and walked
out of the room not bothering to give Joseph a reply.

"Fuck
you Star; you're all shit anyway...." Joseph’s confidence had come
back a little as he realised that Martin was not going to put two
barrels in him as Tama had suffered. "What are you going to do up
north anyway? The cops will be looking for you... You killed the
killer man; we could use someone like you... Take care of
business.... Star...? Fuck you… you little bitch..."

The
sound of Joseph’s voice faded as he walked back out into the
sunshine.

One more stop,
he thought, and then it is all over.

Baz
Ropata was standing at the gate on his own, eyes hidden behind dark
lenses, arms crossed across his massive chest. There was no fear in
his manner like there was with Joseph. He was blocking Martin's
exit and did not look like he would move as he approached the
gate.

Martin stopped
in front of him looking directly at the black lenses of his
sunglasses but did not say anything. He was beyond fear; he just
did not care anymore. Intimidation would no longer work.

Baz spoke
quietly.

"I knew your
father Martin... he was a good man".

He had not
heard anyone but his mother speak of his father before and it
slightly unnerved him to hear Baz speak with him in a slightly
affectionate tone. How would a hard man from the gang know anything
about his father? Still he stayed silent unsure of Baz's
motives.

"I need to let
you know something... I need you to trust me. What you do with what
I tell you is up to you..." Baz paused for a second as if expecting
an answer.

Martin just
nodded.

"We have two
little piggies tied up in the back room, one waiting for slaughter
and the other... Well let me just say the pleasure will be all
ours.

J man is
holding them for his father, some sort of leverage to get another
little piggy to squeal, but you see there is a higher power out
there and that power wants a different outcome, a changing of the
guard.

You know J man
is afraid of you now, all these losers are. It was a cold thing you
did killing Tama, but a necessary one, I can see that. They
wouldn't have the balls themselves."

Martin was
shocked at how frank Baz was with Tama's death. He wanted to tell
him that it was not him but could not find the words. He let him
continue.

"I'm a
bad man Martin; you probably know that, I have nothing inside. I
will not make excuses for it, it is far too late for that now, but
I made a promise to someone once to try to help someone else. I am
doing that now, however late it is.

J man is out
of control, I don’t think he has a clue what he’s got himself into,
and I don’t see a way out from this” Baz looked serious “He doesn't
trust you not to go to the pigsty and fetch help"