Chapter 9

The banging on his door was loud and persistent. Waking up Andy Cronin rolled over taking the duvet with him. It ended up in a pile on the edge of the bed. His pillow was covered with slight blood smears. His face hurt. It was dark. He switched on the bedside light and looked at his alarm clock. It was six thirty. What day was it? he thought. It must be Sunday and he had slept fourteen hours. At least. The girl next to him stirred and pulled back the covers. She moaned about the light so he turned it off. She would get up and go. Eventually. Her name was Peta and she was Spanish and had long dark hair that shone and a way about her that Andy found so exhilarating. 

Swinging his legs out of bed he momentarily stood in creased T-shirt and blue striped boxers rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his hair then staggered through the jumble of a bedroom tripping over scattered clothes to the hall and flicked on the light. The knocking stopped and through the stained glass door panel he saw the silhouette of someone standing on the porch. “I’m coming,” he shouted and opened the door. It caught on the security chain. Looking through the gap he recognised the face. Closing the door a bit he released the chain and fully opened the door letting in a blast of cold air.

“Mr Bennet. I suppose you’d better come in.” Andy said, managing to talk through a slightly swollen jaw. He looked at the tall imposing figure with the thick grey hair and wearing a lightweight casual jacket and chinos in place of his pinstripe suit. 

Displaying the confidence of a man of obvious wealth Mr Bennet followed Andy through the narrow hallway to the rear sitting room looking with disdain at the sad decoration and unkept appearance.

“Tea?” Andy said as he moved through to the adjoining kitchen. Part of a conversion from a mid-terrace house the three rooms with bathroom tacked on the back were best described as compact. In Fulham just around the corner from Craven Cottage and two streets back from the riverside walk.

“Mr Bennet shook his head, “No thank you. This is not a social call.”

Andy replied, “Obviously or you’d have called at a social time of day, wouldn’t you? Maybe phoned first. You’ve got my number, haven’t you?” He then said, “Take a seat.” and threw a pile of newspapers off a dining chair. 

Sitting down Mr Bennet said, “I wanted to make sure you were in and weren’t going to be, shall we say elusive.”

“You can say what you like. It don’t make no difference to me….Don’t you trust me then Mr Bennet? A man like you needs to trust a man like me.”

“I wouldn’t trust you with a jar full of nothing. Anyway, what’s happened to you? You look a bit of a mess.”

“Had a bit of trouble with that geezer. He had a mate who was watching.”

“Have you been to hospital?”

“Nah. The cops called an ambulance but I didn’t need it. This’ll all be gone tomorrow.”

“Are you sure about that? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m sure. I heal quick. I’ve had the practice.” 

“You’ve not got the package then?....The police involved?”

“Nope….hang on that’s the kettle. You sure you don’t want tea?”

“Absolutely. Looking at the state of this place it might be polluted.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I like the place to look all natural.”

“You don’t ever look at this place then? It’s got stuff growing in it. It stinks,” said Mr Bennet, “iIt smells of everything nasty. Can’t you open a window.”

“Stuck Mr Bennet. They’re all stuck and besides they’re rotten and would fall to bits.” Andy, carrying a steaming half full mug back from the kitchen and sitting opposite Mr Bennet pulled a bottle of red label off the shelf above the table. Half the label had an amber glow. A good slug into the mug and most of the label was over clear glass.

“Bit early for that, isn’t it?” said Mr Bennet.

“Nope. Just an extension of last night. It’s still early enough.” 

“What’s your guest say about it? She likes the way the place stinks?”

“She don’t say anything about it. Anyway she’s been pissed for two days so I don’t think she cares.”

“You were saying about not having the package. And the police” Mr Bennet said.

“Oh yeah….Not got it. And no to the police. I got whacked at the station so they were there but lost interest when I said I was OK and left. And no I didn’t give them my right name. I’m not that dumb. ”

“And?…..why have you not got the package? We had an agreement. If I looked at you when I walked away you were to lift the package.”

“Sure we did and I did get it but he felt me, didn’t he?”

“Obviously but you said you were good. The best.”

“And so I am but he was unnatural. Very few feel my touch. He was exceptional but I was quick and would have got away. He was shouting at someone. He had a mate but I wasn’t sure where so I ran towards the exit. The one to the taxis. Bad choice as it happens. His mate was there…..”

“So they got it back?”

Andy finished the tea then picked up the bottle and poured to the end of the label into the mug. Then said, “nope. Thought I might get caught and it was better to lose it so I dumped it in this lady’s bag. She was looking up at the departure board. I’m sure she didn’t notice me.”

“I don’t suppose you know who she is?”

“That’s a dumb question. How would I? She was just a lady waiting for a train. An anybody. But I can tell you she’s a posh looking anybody with some style and long blond hair. I’d know her if I saw her right enough.”

“I told you how important this was, Didn’t I?”

“You did but you didn’t tell me they were professionals, did you? And you didn’t tell me there were two of them. That was a bit lax don’t you think? Not telling me there were two.They had to be professionals, they were that good. And that other fella can sure punch hard.”

“OK, OK there’s no point to this. I’ve got to get hold of that package first. I can’t risk those two getting hold of it. So, they’re Private Investigators. They’ve got an office around the back of Mint Street Park. Could you get into it?”

“Sure that’s no problem. Any alarms?”

“Not that I know of. The place is a dump. I’ve only been there once but it’s not too secure. I’m sure of that. There’s nothing there to secure.”

“OK I’ll go there tonight when it’s well dark. I ain’t going to risk meeting up with them again. No way.”

“They’ll be after the package as well. Without it everything else I’ve given them is pretty much useless. If they get their hands on it….well I’ll have big trouble for sure. Do you think they know about the girl?”

“Not sure but that one that thumped me must’ve been watching so he would’ve seen me pass her.”

“OK then we’ll assume they do, in which case they will be chasing her down so should be out of their office. I want you there as soon as you can. Tonight loses too much time. It’s Sunday so it should be quiet.”

“I hope you’re right. Like I said, I don’t really want to mix it with them again. Anyway, not without being prepared. What about payment? You owe me and if you want me to do more I’ll need more. And don’t forget I’m taking a big risk.”

“But you screwed up. Why should I pay you?”

“That was just unfortunate and you should’ve told me who I was dealing with. Given me more of a chance. Some of this is down to your rubbish information. Anyway you need me and like I said you should trust me. At least a bit. I need paying. More risk, higher pay. It’s as simple as that. Oh….plus expenses.”

“OK but I need results. You’re no good to me if there’s nothing to show. I’ll pay you half what I owe and then ten grand if you get the package back. Plus five hundred for expenses. I think that’s fair.”

“Done. But expenses and a grand for goodwill upfront. Ok? Good. I’ll call you later after I’ve been through the office. Now if that’s all I need a shower and I would say a shave but I think that’s a bit of a long shot until later.. But a long hot shower….”

“You need to sober up?”

“A long hot shower….”

“The drinking affect you?”

“Helps me sleep. Helps me think. To think of it, it actually just helps me. So no, it don't affect me. I operate best on the edge. But when I need my fullest concentration I don’t touch a drop. That answer your question?”

“Maybe. I’ll just wait and see,” said Mr Bennet, hating to deal with a drinker.

Thinking how he detested dealing with riff raff Mr Bennet left pulling the front door shut as he went. But then he thought that was his fault, wasn’t it? He should not have been so greedy. That last payment was not necessary. He could have just walked away like he had planned to but no, the lure of the cash was way too strong. The thought of doubling up. Snatch back the package then offer it again at an inflated price. The whole thing was useless without that package. They would pay as much as he asked to get it. Now though he regretted meeting Andy Cronin. Two weeks ago seeing him on the station lifting the purse from the lady’s bag. Saw how good he was and thought how useful he would be. So he had changed his plan and gone for the last payment. Drop ten percent to the pickpocket and he would still be way up. Then sell it back. Perfect and so easy. Inwardly he cringed. Screwed up his eyes. His mistake; he should have known those two detectives were good. After all, he knew who they were. Ex army, tough, slick and that one at least, the one called Mike was very very clever.  

On Sunday mornings the world woke up slowly and today at nine was no different. It was quiet when Andy Cronin arrived at the address Mr Bennet had given him. He was feeling better and the swelling on his face was starting to go down. The shower had worked its magic. He had told Peta he was going away for a few days and would find her later in the week. Then he dressed in smart casual clothes, the sort of clothes that would fit in any place. A navy jacket. The grey one was ruined and in the trash. It made him look anonymous. He hoped. 

Looking up at the building all he saw was neglect. This was a building that needed serious work. Even the door looked like it was falling to bits. A man and women were walking by with a shopping bag that looked heavy but that did not matter. It only took him a few seconds to pick his way through the inadequate front door lock. It was so quick it looked like he had just turned a key. Then slowly and as quietly as possible he climbed the stairs. His shoes were soft soled so made little noise on the wooden steps. The place was empty. Whoever worked in the building obviously did not work Sundays. He thought Mr Bennet might be right. The two detectives were out searching for a woman with long blond hair. 

The lock on the door into the office was no problem and clicked open in no time.. The first thing he noticed was the smell of damp and he looked at the creeping stain on the wall coming up from the skirting board. Full of black mould. The second thing was the jumbled mess on the two desks. Carefully sifting through the papers on the nearest desk he found nothing of interest. Mainly photos of wayward partners and reports of infidelities.

He pulled the drawers sifted through the contents then tapped the bottoms. The main drawer of one desk had a false bottom. How dumb he thought. These guys might be slick but they didn’t know how to hide things. But it was empty. 

On the other desk he picked up the small black notebook sitting on top of a pile of quickly pushed together papers. Flicking through the pages he saw a name and address on the last page. There was nothing else of interest except the computer. He turned that on but it was password locked and he didn’t have the time to try to break it.

Back on the street talking to his phone in his hand he said, “it must be her’s. It’s the last one in the book. If they were looking for her and they had discovered her address, that would be it, wouldn’t it?”

“It could well be,” said Mr Bennet, “but it’s all we’ve got though.”

“I’m going there now. Hopefully I’ll be able to get in and have a good dekko through the place. There might be something there. I’ll be in touch.” And he hung up.

It was getting busier by the time he reached Holland Park and looked up at the tall building with its white washed walls and big windows. He thought that some people had all the luck. Then he casually climbed the front steps and stood looking at the front door. Considering the smart look of the place and the up-market area he was not surprised at the impressive locking arrangement. There were four bell pushes each with a name attached. Next to the second one down marked apartment 2 was Jane Somerton. He took another look at the locks then looked around. Her place was on the first floor so with the tall ceilings the windows were out of reach. There were too many people and he felt exposed. Breaking in was not going to be an option. He made the pretence of ringing her bell and waited. Not expecting a reply he then walked back down the steps and across the street to the junction with the main road. Only about a hundred yards. His only option was to wait at the bus stop where he had a good view of the street and the front of the building. Watch and wait and hope something would turn up. A friendly neighbour or something else.

An hour went by and no one came or went. A stream of buses had passed. Some stopping. There would soon be people who would be starting to notice that he was more than waiting for a bus. Around the corner from the other direction came a silver Mercedes. Andy recognised it as a private taxi. It was not difficult. They all had that I’m a cab look. It was slowing down as it approached the house. 

He moved quickly just in case. He was needing to do something anyway. Move position. Reaching the building at the same time as the cab he slowed a bit to allow the driver to get out then followed him up the steps. Standing next to him by the front door. 

“Nice day,” he said, smiling a friendly one and pulling out his keys and making a show of moving his hand towards the lock.

“Sure is,” said the driver, “Too nice to be working.”

“I know, it’s holiday time, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. For some anyway.”

Andy watched as he pushed a package through the letter box marked apartment 2. “You know she’s away? Jane’s my neighbour. Holiday time and good luck to her.”

“Yeah,” said the driver, “I’ve been to Sidmouth and it’s a real nice place for a break. Anyway she left that in my cab when I dropped her at the station. She’ll get it in a week or so. When she gets back.”

“I’ll tell her you called. By the way, what's your name?”

“Pete. Just say Pete dropped it off. She’ll know.”

Andy watched Pete drive off then he was quickly down the steps and along the street heading for home to collect a few things. Taking out his phone he speed dialled Mr Bennet and said, “She’s gone to Sidmouth. I couldn’t get into the place but waited and spoke to a taxi driver.”

“How’d you get anything from him?”

“Easy. He fell for the old I’m her friendly neighbour routine. They love to talk do cabbies. She’s there a week. Or so he said anyway. Nice fella. I’m off to Waterloo. First though I’m calling in at home to pick up a case and something else. I’ll call you when I get to Sidmouth. Anything else?”

“Don’t think so….except well done.”

“You starting to trust me yet?”

“Nope. Just heaping praise where it’s due.”

Andy arrived home and Peta had gone. No note, nothing but he knew where she would be when he needed to find her. It was like she had never been there except for the empties. Coke and Vodka. He threw a few clothes and bits into a grey sports bag then fished about under the kitchen sink and pulled out two plastic bags. Putting them on the table. From one he unpacked a 1930’s Saturday Night Special, unloaded, with six bullets in a box. He loaded the gun with all six then put it into the bag. If there was a chance he would be coming up against those two detectives again he wanted to be prepared. From the other he removed a pile of fifty pound notes, lifted the baseboard of the bag and spread out the notes. Replacing the board he zipped up the bag, took off his navy jacket which he hooked under the bag strap then slung it over his shoulder. He looked at his watch. A cheap throw away but it had gone dead so he went into the bedroom and from a bedside drawer he took out an old watch. He wound it up and was surprised it was still working; he had not used it for so long. Then he was slamming the front door and looking for a cab to take him to the station to catch the twelve twenty Exeter train. As he left he was thinking about Jane Somerton. There was something in the back of his mind that made him think her name was familiar.