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Authors: Mark Timlin

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BOOK: Guns Of Brixton
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    The
four sat together and waited for DC Sharman to arrive. At three- thirty on the
dot there was a rap on the back door and the landlord went through and answered
it.

    'Punctual.
I like that,' said Jenner.

    'I
think there's a lot about Nick you're going to like,' said Lawson.

    'We'll
see,' said Jenner.

    The
man who followed the landlord through into the bar was young, tall, lean, dark
haired, and wearing a slim-cut grey sharkskin suit, black, chisel-toed shoes, a
white, tab collared shirt with a skinny black tie. His hair was thick and
quiffed with gel, and he moved lightly on his feet, sussing out the room as he
entered.

    'Who
the fuck does he think he is?' asked Chas. 'Bryan fucking Ferry?'

    Hazel
shushed Chas as the young policeman came over to the table and stood silently
in front of the quartet, a slight smile on his handsome face.

    Lawson
stood and shook his hand. 'Nick,' he said. 'Good of you to come.'

    'David,'
said Sharman in reply. 'Not a problem. Always a pleasure to see you.'

    'Gentlemen,'
said the lawyer. 'May I introduce Detective Constable Nick Sharman? Nick, this
is John Jenner, his wife Hazel, and one of his associates, name of Chas.'

    'Delighted,'
said Sharman, solemnly shaking hands all round. When he got to Hazel he held
her fingers for just a beat too long.

    She
didn't seem to mind, but John Jenner's eyes narrowed. 'Nick,' he said. 'I
wonder if you'd mind Chas making sure it's only us who're going to hear this
conversation?'

    'You
think I might be wired?' asked Sharman, seeming greatly amused at the prospect.

    'It's
a possibility.'

    'Fair
enough.' The policeman raised his arms and Chas patted him down, then stepped
back and shook his head. 'Clean,' he said.

    'My
apologies,' said Jenner.

    'No
problem,' came the reply.

    'Please
sit,' said Jenner.

    Sharman
did so, pulling a packet of Silk Cut and a brass Zippo from his pocket. He
offered them round, and all but Lawson accepted. He flicked on the lighter, lit
all four, Hazel's first, and dropped it back on the table. As he did so the
cuff of his shirt slid back revealing a Rolex watch with a metal bracelet.
Sharman saw them notice and smiled.

    'Drink?'
asked Jenner.

    'Scotch,'
replied the detective.

    'Four
large ones,' Jenner said to the landlord. 'And a vodka and orange for Hazel.
Then get lost.'

    The
landlord set about making the screwdriver just as Hazel liked it. Lots of ice,
a slice of lemon, a large vodka and a bottle of Britvic orange in a tall glass.
He served her first then went back to the bar, brought over four clean glasses,
a bottle of malt and a jug of water on a tray, set them out, cleared away the
dirty pots, put them on the counter, and left.

    'And don't
come back 'til you're told,' added Jenner without thanks. 'And don't be fucking
earwigging or Chas'll have your legs.'

    When
the men's glasses were charged and 'cheers' had been exchanged, Jenner leant
forward and said: 'We've never met, but David here has said good things about
you, Nick. You don't mind me calling you Nick, do you?'

    'No
problem,' replied Sharman around the edge of his glass. 'But we did meet once.'

    'When?'
asked Jenner with a frown. He didn't like not knowing.

    'A
couple of years back, when I was in uniform,' said Sharman. 'I gave you a
parking ticket round the back of the Elephant. Nice old Aston Martin, as I
remember.'

    'And
we spoke?'

    'Yeah.
You tore up the ticket and threw it at me, called me a cunt too. Excuse my
language, Mrs Jenner.'

    There
was a moment's silence, then the company roared with laughter. 'Did I pay it?'
asked Jenner.

    'David
did, as I recall,' replied the cop.

    'Probably,'
said Lawson. 'Just one of the perks of the job. Clearing up after John.' 'No
hard feelings, I hope, Nick?' said Jenner.

    'I
could've done you for assault,' said Sharman. 'But when I checked out the
registration and found out it was you I decided not to. I reckoned one day we
might meet again, and maybe to our mutual advantage.'

    'And
here you are,' said the older man.

    'Here
I am,' said Sharman.

    'And
David says you've got something to sell.'

    'Well,
hot exactly sell,' said the policeman. 'More like hire. When you need them, if
you know what I mean.'

    'Maybe,'
said Jenner. 'What is it exactly?'

    Rather
than answer immediately, Sharman said: 'I've only been married for a little
while. And wives are expensive.' He smiled at Hazel who smiled back. 'And she
wants to have a baby. Even more expense. And I've got a few other expenses
too.'

    'Like
what?'

    'I
like nice things. Clothes…' He touched the lapel of his jacket that was so
sharp it almost cut him '…and a decent motor.'

    'And
a decent watch,' said Lawson.

    'Exactly.'
Then he sniffed exaggeratedly.

    'And
a bit of hokey cokey, I'll bet,' said Chas, entering the conversation for the
first time.

    'There
is that,' said Sharman and, as he said it, the sun went in and the bar darkened
and the four others at the table saw that there was something of the night
about the young policeman. But something of the night was a trait they all
shared.

    'So,'
said Jenner.

    'So,
what I earn isn't enough to keep me and my new missus in the way we'd like to
become accustomed.'

    'So?'
said Jenner again.

    Sharman
reached into the top pocket of his jacket and fished out a leather folder and
tossed it on to the table. It flipped open and inside was his warrant card. 'So
that's for hire,' he said. 'And this.' He put his foot on an empty chair next
to him, pulled up his trouser leg and pulled out a short-barrelled.38 revolver
from an ankle holster and gently placed it beside his glass and cigarettes as
the three men stiffened and Chas went as if to reach inside his coat. Hazel put
a restraining hand on his arm.

    'Relax,'
she said. 'We're all friends here, I hope. Or, will be soon. And you can call
me, Hazel, Nick.'

    Sharman
smiled at her again, then turned to Chas. 'You missed that,' he said. 'Could've
been a transmitter.'

    Chas
just sat in his seat and seethed.

    'You
can use that?' asked Jenner, nodding at the gun and ignoring Chas's discomfort.

    'I
can.'

    'Have
you ever?'

    'Used
it? Of course. On the range. I'm a bloody marksman.'

    'But
not in anger.'

    'That's
for me to know.'

    'And
they just let you walk around with one?'

    'There's
an operation on later. I told them I was off to see a snout and had this issued
early. But I could use one of my own.'

    'I
think we might be able to help you there,' said Jenner. 'But how much will all
this cost us?'

    'Depends,'
said Sharman thoughtfully. 'Depends what you need doing.'

    'Like
a sliding scale?' said Lawson.

    'Exactly,'
the policeman replied, slipping the gun and the warrant card back from where they'd
come. 'A sliding scale. That'll do nicely.'

    'As a
matter of fact, there is something,' said Jenner, topping up his glass. 'I'm up
on charges at the Bailey in a few weeks.'

    'I
know,' replied Sharman.

    'Serious
charges. I only got bail thanks to the work of my friend here.' He gestured at
Lawson who grinned like the Cheshire cat. 'I've done a little remand and I
don't like it inside.'

    Sharman
nodded.

    'And
if your lot get a result I'm going away for a while.' 'A long while,' said Sharman.

    'Yeah,
maybe,' said Jenner, narrowing his eyes. 'And I wouldn't like that. I'd miss my
family. But that's not the point.'

    'I
would've thought that was exactly the point,' said the Detective Constable.

    'There's
a witness,' said Jenner. 'A young man who took advantage of our good natures
and then reneged.'

    'Laurie
Skinner
?
' said Sharman.

    Jenner
smiled. 'You have been doing your homework.'

    'Word
gets around. Gossip, you know.'

    'More
than gossip, I would've thought.' Jenner again.

    Sharman
nodded once more.

    'The
young man in question, I can hardly bear to mention his name, has gone to
ground. I think perhaps your lot think he might be interfered with if he was
walking the streets,' said Jenner.

    'A
possibility,' agreed Sharman.

    'Any
ideas where he might be?' asked Lawson.

    Sharman
shook his head. 'Need to know,' he said.

    'And
you don't,' said Jenner.

    Sharman
shook his head for a second time.

    'You
see, it would be ideal if the charges just went away,' said Jenner.

    'Something
nasty would have to happen to the witness for that to occur,' said Sharman.

    'Very
nasty.' Jenner again.

    Sharman
smiled. 'But of course, you'd need the address where he's at for that to
happen.'

    Jenner
nodded.

    'And
that could be arranged?' asked Lawson.

    'If
the price was right,' said Sharman.

    'What
could you do?' interrupted Chas. 'You're just a DC. The lowest of the low.'

    Sharman
smiled. 'Like I said, if the price is right, all sorts of things could happen.'
'And the price would be?' asked Jenner.

    'Ten.'

    'Ten
what?' said Chas.

    'Well,
not ten pence,' the copper said.

    'Ten
grand,' said Lawson.

    'That'd
be right.'

    'And
you could sort it out for us?'

    'I
could try.'

    'Trying's
not good enough,' said Chas.

    'I
think you'd find it was if it was me trying.'

    'David,'
said Jenner.

    Lawson
picked up his briefcase, laid it on the table, opened it and produced an
envelope which he tossed on the table. 'There's five thousand there in small,
used notes,' he said. 'Have that for now and let's see what happens.'

    Sharman
picked up the bulging envelope, peered inside but didn't count the money, then
slid it into his inside jacket pocket. 'You came prepared. You must've been
sure of me. That's fine. Thanks. I'll be in touch.'

    'Make
sure you are,' said Chas. 'That's a lot of bread.'

    Sharman
acknowledged him with a nod. 'Well, I've got to be getting back,' he said after
a few moments. 'Like I said. We've got an operation on today.'

    'Nothing
we should know about, I hope,' said Jenner.

    'No,'
said the policeman. 'Nothing for you to worry about.'

    'Good.
'Cos if it was…' Jenner didn't finish the sentence.

    'You'd
be the first to know,' said Sharman. 'As long as…' He paused, rubbed the first
finger and thumb of his right hand together.

    'Naturally,'
said David Lawson.

    'Well,
cheers then, gentlemen. And Mrs Jenner… Hazel,' Sharman finished his drink in a
swallow and pocketed his cigarettes and lighter. 'I'll be in touch.'

BOOK: Guns Of Brixton
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