Last Out From Roaring Water Bay (12 page)

Winston reacted far quicker than I did. The moment the bogyman’s hand twitched, Winston had latched onto the striking wrist and I had parried Filbert’s upward strike and caught hold of his blade hand, twisting the weapon away from my stomach. The threat on my life turned me into a raving lunatic. I hit the bogus Filbert with every thing I had: head, hands, knees and feet, and not necessarily in that order. It was ten years since I’d thrown a decent punch in anger and I hadn’t lost my touch. My attack on him was vicious and frantic but I didn’t cease the bombardment until I heard the sound of the blade crashing to the ground.

I didn’t stop there. I hit him again with a flurry of body punches before finishing off with a terrific uppercut that dropped him to the floor with a crunching thud. He lay there, groaning and then silenced. I’d knocked the bastard out.

With the feeling of invincibility I quickly switched my attention to the fracas behind me. Winston had his fangs buried in the side of his victims face with the expected savagery of a pit bull dogfight. I thought of intervening but changed my mind when human screams of agony ghoulishly crept through the night air and I decided that my hand wasn’t going anywhere in between the action.

I turned back to Filbert when I heard him moan, knelt down beside him, grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. He might have been groggy but I didn’t care. I wanted answers.

“Right you piece of shit! Start by telling me your proper employer? And don’t give me verbal diarrhoea that
the Ministry
are because I know differently.” I shook his head hard to grab his attention. I got carried away and slapped his face a few times. “You’d better start talking shit breath!”

I was distracted by noise behind me.

My head spun round to see Winston’s piece of meat had broken free and the bogeyman was off and running down the driveway with the dog snapping at he heels with every stride. I let Filbert’s head hit the ground and rose to my feet to watch the pursuit, making my way to the roadside. I made the wrong move. Stupidly I’d given Filbert the chance to scarper, which he did, straight through the shrubbery and scaled the high garden wall that surrounded my home. I heard him drop to the pavement and then the sound of running feet. I reached the end of the driveway in time to see Filbert scampering away in the same direction as his companion.

I cursed loudly and gave chase. I would have caught him if a dark coloured car hadn’t raced past me and screeched to a crawl. This allowed Filbert and his bogeyman to scramble into the rear of the vehicle before the car accelerated away with Winston in gamely pursuit of the tailpipe.

I whistled the dog back from his pointless pursuit and gave him a pat for his gallant effort. “Good boy, Winston. Sure showed those sad bastards who’s the boss.” And the dog promptly spat out half an ear. I winced. “Didn’t like the taste, hey boy! I don’t blame you. Never mind, I’ve a juicy piece of proper meat in the fridge that’s far more appetising than bits of scum.”

I watched until the red tail-lights of the car had disappeared in case they decided to double back for another attempt on my person. I didn’t think they’d take the chance of a return. They didn’t. I turned round and headed for my driveway only to be startled by a man’s voice beckoning me from the shadows across the road. I’d missed his presence because of all the commotion.

“Mister Speed, I presume?”

I glanced across, vaguely making out the lurking figure standing there with his hands down by his side. He didn’t appear to be a threat and I think Winston agreed with me, as the dog made no move.

“Depends who wants me?”

The stranger approached warily, a bulky man of medium height, which was about as much as I could make out in the dark. I was ready to repel another attack and so was Winston until we noticed he had raised the palms of his hands to show he carried nothing to endanger us.

“You’re certainly a hard man to track down,” the stranger said, slightly out of breath. “I’ve been waiting your return for hours. I’d actually dropped to sleep in my car,” he threw a thumb over his right shoulder to indicate where he had parked down the road. “The fracas woke me up.”

“Well-I’m really sorry about
that
,” I said sarcastically. “But I shouldn’t be disturbing you again tonight”

“We need to talk, Mister Speed.”

His timing was wrong for starters. I wasn’t in the mood to talk or listen and my answer was obnoxious and quick. “It’s late. I’m knackered. I’m damned well agitated. So fuck off!”

The stranger took a cautious step back and said, “I fully intend to leave after watching your heroics. Yet if you can spare the time, I must speak with you on urgent matters. I appreciate the situation is momentarily inconvenient, so I posted my credentials through your letterbox. You can give them back to me later, if you’re interested.”

He was certainly a calm character and a person not used to taking no for an answer.

“Why should I want to talk to you?”

“If I’m right, I can probably put a name to your attackers for starters.”

He had my attention.

“But since you’re in a foul mood, and obviously in need of sleep, perhaps we can meet later today. Breakfast perhaps? I’ll be at the establishment called, ‘The Greaseless Grill’. Do you know it?”

“King’s Road,” I said. “And you’re paying?”

“Indeed, Mister Speed. Shall we say ten AM?” He gave a flick type wave and toddled off down the road. I heard the click and slam of a car door, the engine starting up and he drove away.

I looked down at Winston and he returned the look. “What a frigging day it’s been.”

Winston responded with a whine.

Before going inside I inspected the security lights around the front of my home. I wasn’t surprised to discover that the light fittings had been vandalized beyond repair and I guessed the street lamps had suffered the same treatment.

I picked up the stranger’s credentials as I entered, closed the door and studied the details. They were impressive so I had no excuse not to accept that Inspector Dan Hamer of the Ministry of Defence Police was the genuine article. There was a telephone number and extension number for me to check if the details matched the visitor, which, after some sleep, I rang. Everything about him was confirmed. Why he had turned up on my doorstep was a mystery, and I detest not knowing what the frigging hell was going on. I left Winston behind to watch the house and went to meet Hamer.

*

‘The Greaseless Grill’, serves a gourmet breakfast equal to any of the top restaurants in and around London, everything cooked to absolute perfection. Fresh crisp bacon, perfect yellow eggs, large flat mushrooms in a delicious sauce, cooked tomatoes, and toast that melts in the mouth. All swilled down the gullet with a pot of proper brewed tea, none of that dry tasting paper tea bags, just pure leaves soaked in boiling water for a minute before adding a splash of silver top milk. It’s an expensive place to eat but understandably busy and I was going to enjoy breakfast immensely because I wasn’t dipping my hand into the money pocket.

I found Inspector Dan Hamer seated at a window table drinking what appeared to be coffee. The daylight did him no favours. By the deep age lines around his eyes, I guessed he was touching the age of fifty. His physique bordered a person whose love affair with the gymnasium had all but gone and if he had made the effort to improve his level of fitness, it’d have probably killed him. He wasn’t grossly fat by any means, but the loss of a few pounds of flesh would have improved his health tremendously.

Hamer half rose from the comfort of his chair for the courtesy shake of hands, his grip strong and commanding. I estimated his height to be around five feet ten inches which carried his plump figure adequately. There were streaks of grey running through his neatly trimmed brown hair. He had deep set hazel coloured eyes, a slightly bent nose, and a strong square chin that I reckon could take a decent punch.

“Glad you accepted the offer, Mister Speed. Please, sit down.”

As he re-seated I gave him back his credentials. “I did check them.”

He smiled thinly and slipped the documents inside his jacket pocket. “I’d have been disappointed if you hadn’t.”

I sat down and pulled the chair in. I said, “I don’t usually accept offers from strangers but I’m notoriously weak minded with the offer of free food and hopefully some answers.”

“I won’t have all the answers, Mister Speed, but I’ll try my best.”

My first impressions of Hamer had me thinking that I was dealing with a polite chap, but first impressions mean nothing. Anyone can be polite when they want something and Hamer wanted something.

“I gather those two Neanderthals didn’t return last night?” he sounded genuinely concerned.

“Nothing disturbed me, and Winston slept like a log.”

Hamer smiled at my quip and nodded his approval. “Good. I must say you certainly look in better shape after a few hours sleep. And how’s your dog?”

“Winston’s fine. He’s still chewing a piece of his victim.”

“It must be a tough piece of meat to last so long.”

“Not really. It’s just that he likes to savour his meal slowly.”

“And where’s the dog now?”

“I left him at home, on guard. Besides, I thought the other diners wouldn’t appreciate his slobbering jowls when he’s after food from their plates.”

“He’s an incredible animal and a cleverly vicious one too! That was some display last night. I’m glad I stayed on the opposite side of the road.”

“He’s not usually that vicious.”

“Isn’t that something all dog owners plead after their dog’s bitten somebody.”

“I wouldn’t know. He’s not actually mine. His owner died recently. I’m just looking after him for a while until things have been sorted.”

“I’d say that he was looking after you, Mister Speed. And such a strange looking beast too! I’m not familiar with the breed?”

“He’s cross bred between a Labrador and a Staffordshire-Bull Terrier.”

“Ah! Now I understand his ferociousness in battle.”

“Winston’s a softy at heart. He just detests anyone attacking his friends, as you duly witnessed.”

Breakfast arrived. The aroma drifting from the plate making me swallow saliva quickly before it excreted down the sides of my chin. I was famished and tucked in heartily asking the appropriate questions in-between mouthfuls.

“How come your card landed through my letterbox, I’ve already had a bad experience with the ministry police.”

Hamer swallowed the mouthful of food he was chewing. “You mean the two thugs from last night? They certainly don’t work for the MDP.”

“I thought as much at the time. Their approach to their work didn’t have the same panache that I would have expected from government officials.”

“What did they want with you?”

“I got the impression they were trying to kill me.”

“Well you’re still alive. They were obviously after something from you?”

“They accused me of having something that belonged to them.”

“Have you?”

“Never found out. So who are they?”

“If I’m right, you’ve got a major problem on your hands, Mister Speed. They’re dangerous people.”

“How dangerous should I be worried about?”

Hamer lowered his voice as he spoke, “Professional killers from the Eastern European regions. They go by the names of Damian Love and Theodore Hate. Nobody knows their real nationality. For recognition purposes you tackled Love and the dog had hold of Hate. Love is the mouthpiece of the two. Not to be underestimated, as his brutality is on equal terms with Hate. They have no preference of victim as long as there’s a paymaster. They butcher people mercilessly, quietly and without fuss. They’re well known throug hout the European police forces, yet no force has managed to make anything stick against them; never any witnesses to their crimes. They are usually highly efficient bastards, and if they mark their target for death then it’s usually funeral arranging time. You’ve had a lucky escape, Mister Speed.”

“You seem to know a lot about them?”

“They’re on our wanted list too; a little incident in Cyprus five years ago when a British army sergeant was murdered on the orders of a Turkish Mafia boss. We knew the slimy toad sergeant was up to no good, and we were on to him. Love and Hate got to him before we did; knifed him to death. On whose orders we’ve no idea. End of our investigation.”

“Well they’re at it again.” I thought I’d mention the fact to him.

Hamer jabbed his fork towards me. “It doesn’t surprise me. They’ve obviously been brought into the country to cause havoc in London by someone.”

“Have you any idea who would want to hire that calibre of men?”

“The only suspect we have is a chap named McClusky. He runs an Irish-American import and export and storage business at the docklands. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

I shook my head. “I can’t say it does.”

“We’ve never heard of him either.”

“You’ve proof that they work for this McClusky character?”

“The car used by your attackers last night is registered to McClusky; I traced the registration through the DVLA at Swansea this morning. But let’s not get carried away. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the vehicle hasn’t already been crushed into a cube at a local scrap-yard. Or they’ll probably say it’s been stolen.”

“Obviously you checked to find out if it had been reported stolen?”

“There’s been nothing yet reported concerning the vehicle.”

“What about McClusky himself?”

“He’s clean; a bona-fide business man who deals in raw materials for the animal feed industry.”

“Then how come I’m at the top of everybody’s forthcoming Christmas card list?”

“That’s clearly obvious. You piss people off, Mister Speed. Somebody wants their retribution.”

“I only piss off authoritarians.”

“That’s exactly what a certain Detective Constable Stevens told me after he rang the MDP to enquire if we were conducting an investigation concerning you.”

“Were you investigating me?”

“Not then, but we’re interested now.”

“So where do I fit into your investigation?”