Stay Another Day Page 12

  ‘Jack,’ I said, ‘It’s Nick Sharman.’

  ‘Blimey,’ he said. ‘Long time since I heard your voice. Where are you?’

  ‘In London.’

  ‘Why? I thought you were persona non grata in this part of the world.’

  ‘Long story,’ I said.

  ‘I just bet it is.’ I could hear the grin in his voice.

  ‘How’s your sister?’ I asked.

  ‘Dead. More than a year ago. Heart attack.’

  ‘Christ. I’m sorry mate. You never let me know.’

  ‘What was the point? Would you have come back for the funeral?’

  ‘Suppose not. So how are you?’

  ‘Not good. I’m next. Cancer of the prostate. A pain in the arse. Literally. That’s why I took so long answering. I was in the khazi. Spend a lot of time there lately.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Don’t say anything. I’ve had a good run. People live too long these days anyway. It’s like God’s waiting room down here as it is.’

  ‘How are you managing on your own?’

  ‘Not bad. Given up on the fucking doctors. Just take the pain killers and survive on spag bol and red wine from the Spar supermarket down the road. I miss my sister, mind. The place is a bit of a tip since she went. Anyway, you didn’t phone to enquire after my health. What do you want?’

  ‘I need an oppo. Like I said a long story. Wondered if you fancied a trip up to London.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d be much good to you these days Nick. I’m not the man I was.’

  ‘Better than nothing though. There’s room here for you to stay and I think I could do better than a Spar spaghetti out of a box.’

  ‘Where exactly are you?’ he asked.

  I told him.

  ‘Nice digs,’ he said.

  ‘Expensive.’

  ‘You always did have tastes beyond your means.’

  ‘Fancy it then?’ I asked.

  ‘When?’

  ‘I was thinking of tomorrow. It’s kind of urgent.’

  ‘Blimey.’ He coughed. ‘It must be important.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well there’s a train to London at nine. I could be with you before lunch.’

  ‘I’ve got no wheels to pick you up.’

  ‘I think I can afford a cab from the station.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll be here. Name’s Stark by the way. Just ask at the desk.’

  ‘God. You never change do you?’

  ‘I try to be consistent.’

  ‘OK, then. I’ll see you about twelve.’

  ‘Look forward to it.’

  Two days down. One to go. Jesus, it was hard this waiting. Wondering how Judith was coping.

  Still, they do say that it’s the time of year for families.

  47

  I hardly slept, worrying about Judith, just watched garbage on TV. Quiz shows, monster truck races, anything to pass the time until the next morning when I called the Russians on the mobile number I’d been given, and told them I’d have the money the day after next. ‘Very good Mr Sharman,’ said the thickly accented voice at the other end – which one of the bastards I didn’t know, as he didn’t identify himself. ‘Please call as soon as you are in possession and we’ll arrange a meeting. And naturally, no police.’

  ‘And my daughter is safe.’ It was a statement, not a question.

  ‘You hardly need ask,’ he replied, smugly.

  ‘I’ll need to speak to her.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And if you...’

  ‘No threats, Mr Sharman,’ he said. ‘A waste of energy I assure you.’

  Don’t you be so sure, I thought. Things might change when I get Judith back.

  ‘Just don’t hurt her,’ I said.

  ‘There would be no point. This is strictly business,’ and he hung up.

  Not wanting to be wandering the streets with that amount of cash, I phoned Stew, the cabbie. ‘I need a ride the day after tomorrow in the morning,’ I said.

  ‘No probs. What time?’

  ‘I need to get to Old Street for ten, wait and return.’

  ‘To and from the hotel?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Pierre’s looking after you then?’

  ‘Very well.’ I wasn’t interested in going into my domestic arrangements, but then he wasn’t to know.

  ‘Good. Then I’ll be with you just after nine. Traffic’s awful at that time in the morning going out East.’

  ‘I’ll be waiting,’ I said.

  48

  Trouble was, there wasn’t going to be much I could do to defend myself without weapons, and mine had been confiscated by the spooks like a schoolboy having his catapults taken away. Bastards. A nailgun and a jemmy just wouldn’t cut what I had in mind. So it looked like another trip to Hackney was on the cards. I’d been lucky the first time up with Skin’s little firm – I hoped that they were true to his words and always in situ.

  I waited for dark, drinking the mini bar dry and watching yet more rubbish on the box. I missed Judith, I missed the island. When the evening came I headed east in a black cab picked up off Oxford Street. He dropped me just outside Hackney Town Hall and I walked into the back streets. I had a grand in my pants again, and prayed I’d go home without it. The pub looked the same from the outside, dilapidated and miserable. It suited my mood to a T.

  I pushed open the door and it looked exactly the same inside as well. The same motley crew of drinkers at the tables, and Skin, Arnold and Latimer propping up the bar. In fact there was one difference. The barman was now wearing a moth-eaten red and white Santa hat that looked like it had been picked out of a skip. My three buds clocked me and all started to grin. ‘Hey,’ said Skin. ‘It’s the man with the plan. Have a drink my friend.’

  ‘Pint please,’ I said as I joined them.

  ‘So what can we do for you this evening?’ he asked.

  ‘Had a little problem,’ I said. ‘Lost what you got me.’

  ‘Careless,’ said Arnold, kissing his teeth.

  I nodded.

  ‘No comebacks this end though?’ he questioned.

  ‘Course not.’

  ‘Fair enough. What do you need?’

  ‘There’s two of us,’ I said. ‘Or at least I hope so.’ I didn’t know what condition Robber was in. Prostate cancer – every man’s fear. My arse cheeks clenched at the mere thought. ‘But he’s not the man he used to be I’m afraid. I need a shot gun. I don’t need to aim, just point and pray.’

  ‘A scatter gun,’ said Skin. ‘I think I can manage that. Sawn off?’

  ‘That would be just fine.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘A hand gun. Anything.’

  ‘Nine mill?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Expensive. Short notice too.’

  ‘Just tell me.’

  Skin thought for a moment, doing some mental calculations. ‘Seven fifty with ammo.’

  Vicious, but fair. ‘Bring it on,’ I said.

  ‘Be back soon,’ he said, and he and Latimer left me with Arnold. We swapped reminiscences about the island again, and truth to tell it made me feel homesick for another place in my own home town.

  The pair returned after an hour or so. ‘Outside,’ said Skin.

  I followed him into the night and to his car, a late model seven-series BMW. ‘Business is good,’ I said, clocking his motor.

  ‘Could be worse.’

  We sat inside and he opened a sports bag which contained a beaten up sawn off shotgun with a taped handle and a decent looking Browning automatic. ‘They work fine,’ he said, seeing my expression as I looked at the ragged shotgun. ‘Trust me.’ I had no choice.

  There was ammunition for both and I hauled the cash
out of my jeans and counted out seven hundred and fifty quid. ‘Still warm,’ said Skin.

  ‘Close to my heart.’

  ‘You’d better split,’ he said. ‘Don’t want the stuff hanging about too long. Babylon’s getting busy. Too many folks shot in this yard lately. You driving?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘There’s a mini cab firm on the corner.’

  ‘Sure,’ I replied. ‘Give my best to the boys.’

  ‘Will do. Will we see you again do you think?’

  ‘I hope not. I want to be spending the holidays back on the island. It’s too cold here for me.’

  ‘Well, good luck, whatever happens.’

  ‘Same to you, and Merry Christmas.’

  ‘Back at you.’ He gave me a complicated handshake, and with that I got out of the car and headed for the cab office.

  49

  The next morning I was up bright and early, hoping that Robber was as good as his word. I couldn’t settle in the suite, so I sat in reception waiting for him and ambushed him before he got to the desk. ‘Jack,’ I said, holding out my hand. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  He took the proffered mitten and we shook hands. ‘Good to see you too Mr Stark. But I don’t know if I’d have recognised you with that growth on your face.’

  I’d’ve recognised him anywhere. He was older, greyer, thinner, but still the old enemy who’d become one of my only friends. We’d got up to some larkins in the old days. I’d been his snout for a while, earning a bit on the side when the PI business was on its uppers, and the booze bill was due. He was the epitome of the straight copper who looked the other way when it suited him. Good old Jack. He was wearing an ancient trilby and a mac that had seen better days, and carrying a small leather bag. ‘I brought my jammies,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve stayed in a place like this.’

  ‘You’re welcome mate,’ I said. ‘I thought we’d go upstairs. It’s more private, and we can eat on room service.’

  ‘Very grand. Lead the way.’

  We went up in the lift to the suite, to which he gave a nod of approval, and I took his hat and coat and put them in Judith’s room with his bag. ‘Drink?’ I said when I came back into the sitting room.

  ‘Scotch. Large one. Can’t afford the hard stuff on my pension. Shouldn’t though, the quacks tell me.’

  ‘You sure about that Scotch then?’

  ‘Fuck the fucking doctors. I’m too far gone for it to do too much harm.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ I poured him a large one, and one for myself from the mini bar. When I handed him his glass I noticed his hand was shaking. Not a good sign in a number two shooter, but he was all I had.

  ‘So, what’s the problem?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s about Judith,’ I replied.

  ‘Guessed as much.’ Robber nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’ve followed her career, and her recent problems.’

  I raised an eyebrow. More difficult than you might think as it happens.

  ‘I still have contacts,’ he said. ‘Keep my ear to the grapevine if you know what I mean.’

  I nodded.

  ‘As it happens, I was going to get in touch with her.’ Robber continued. ‘But then I thought she would hardly remember me, and what would she want from an old bloke like me anyway.’

  ‘Some support,’ I huffed, though I could hardly have expected him to do any more.

  ‘I can hardly support myself these days mate. Times are hard. Anyway, my troubles are not what you brought me to hear. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Point a gun in someone’s face,’ I said. Then I told him what had happened.

  He listened patiently as I went through the story, from finding the memory stick, meeting Campbell’s lover to Judith being kidnapped. All he said when I’d finished was, ‘I always thought that new AC was a piece of stupid shit.’

  ‘He’s not the problem now,’ I said. ‘It’s the Russians.’

  ‘And you can’t find the people you gave the photographs to?’

  ‘Gone without a trace,’ I said. ‘No point in even looking. And no time.’

  ‘No idea which department?’

  ‘Not a clue. They weren’t forthcoming.’

  ‘Fucking spooks never are, but they always expect full co-operation from the force when they need it.’

  ‘Way of the world,’ I said.

  ‘Shitty world,’ he said.

  I nodded again. Just having Robber around made me feel a little calmer, but I would only be satisfied when I knew that Judith was safe.

  50

  By the time I’d finished filling him in it was getting on one o’clock. I poured two more drinks and asked if he wanted to eat.

  ‘Is the Pope a bear?’ he said.

  ‘What do you fancy?’

  ‘Steak and chips,’ he said, with no hesitation. ‘Medium rare, with jam roly poly and custard for afters.’

  I picked up the phone and ordered a T-Bone and French fries, with all the trimmings. Jam roly poly wasn’t on the menu, but they offered some kind of sponge pudding with a raspberry cômpote and vanilla sauce, so I took that instead. I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was in knots, so I just asked for some soup and a roll. However little I felt like eating, I knew I had to have something just to keep my strength up and the liquor down. Soup seemed the easiest thing to digest. I also asked for a large pot of coffee and hot milk.

  While we waited Robber asked, ‘Have you got the money?’

  ‘I’m due to pick it up tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Not easy to get that much at short notice.’

  ‘I have my sources.’ I thought it was better for him not to know too much about this side of the deal.

  ‘When’s the exchange?’

  ‘Soon as I have the cash.’

  ‘You think they’ve hurt her?’

  ‘No. We’ve spoken. She’s as mad as a cat who’s swallowed a wasp, but she seems OK.’

  ‘The old Sharman spirit eh?’ he said.

  ‘That’s about it.’

  ‘But you don’t trust them?’

  ‘Would you trust them?’

  ‘And I’m all you’ve got?’

  ‘That pretty much covers it.’

  ‘I don’t know Nick.’

  ‘Listen Jack. I didn’t know about your condition when I called. Why didn’t you ever get in touch? You had the number.’

  ‘And spoil your life in paradise? No fear. Anyway you couldn’t have done anything about it.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. I’ve missed out on a lot being out there. Look, just forget about it. Stay here tonight, keep me company. Believe me, I could use someone here or else I’ll be biting the furniture. Then go home tomorrow and I’ll go on my own. No hard feelings.’

  ‘What, and miss all the fun?’ he said, and laughed so loudly his false teeth clicked. ‘I’m an old man with a crap pension and dodgy prostate. Bring on a bit of excitement, I say.’

  We were interrupted by a knock on the door. When I answered it, two white coated waiters brought in a trolley covered in dishes under silver lids. They laid the table for two, put out the food with a flourish and stood back proudly. Robber watched with wide eyes as they revealed a sizzling steak that had been kept hot by a paraffin stove. It was so big it overlapped the plate. The chips were jumbo size and brown as my face. There was a side order of mixed vegetables and a salad. The pudding was also kept warm next to a big jug of sauce. My soup and roll looked pathetic next to his feast and my stomach rumbled.

  ‘Marvellous,’ he said, taking his seat as one of the waiters dropped a napkin on his lap. ‘I could get used to this.’

  I tipped the chaps a fiver each and joined Robber at the table.

  ‘The condemned men ate a hearty meal,’ he said, as he sliced a lump off the steak.

  ‘Nice choice
of words,’ I replied, hoping that they wouldn’t turn out to be true.

  51

  ‘So what’s the plan?’ said Robber.

  ‘Simple,’ I said. ‘We drive to the meet. You wait outside with the money and the shotgun. I get Judith. They get the money. We go home.’

  ‘Sounds easy,’ he said, frowning.

  ‘It will be – unless they piss me off, or they do a double cross. Then we kill them. Or maybe we kill them any-way.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t have wheels.’

  ‘I don’t. But I will. You can get anything in this hotel.’ I picked up the phone and called the desk. Pierre answered. ‘Hey Pierre,’ I said. ‘I need to hire a car.’

  ‘No problem Mr Stark. What particular car?’

  ‘Something with a big boot.’

  ‘A Bentley Continental?’

  ‘I think a Bentley’s a bit ostentatious,’ I said. ‘But a nice idea.’

  ‘Perhaps a Jaguar Sedan.’

  ‘That will do I’m sure. There’s two drivers.’ I looked over at Robber. ‘I hope you still have a driving licence,’ I said to him.

  ‘Never go anywhere without it.’

  ‘Yes, two drivers,’ I said into the dog.

  ‘When do you require the car?’ Pierre asked.

  ‘Quick as you can.’

  ‘I’ll have someone come up with the paperwork,’ he said.

  We both hung up and I said, ‘See what I mean?’

  ‘Why do you need a big boot?’ asked Robber.

  ‘Because that’s where you’ll be.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ he spluttered.

  ‘It won’t be for long. And it’s a Jag.’

  ‘I think I’d have preferred the Bentley,’ he said.

  52

  Half an hour later, one of the reception staff appeared with some forms to fill in to hire the Jaguar.

  I used my fake driving licence in the name of Stark, Jack used his legal one. The receptionist took us down to the garage where the car was parked. ‘Are you familiar with the model?’ he asked.

  Neither of us were, so he ran through the controls until he was satisfied we knew where the indicators and wind-screen wipers were, then handed over the keys. ‘Thanks a lot,’ I said, tipping him the usual blue bank note.