Road Kill (9 page)

“Thanks very much,” I said tartly.

He made a brief frustrated gesture. “You know what I mean,” he said. “It’s like going on a lads’ night out and taking your mum with you.”

I put my fists on my hips and tried to keep my face under control. “You are
so
not helping.”

His frustration flashed over into humour. His face relaxed a little and he smiled ruefully. “Sorry,” he said. He raised his hands in surrender. “OK, let’s go put it to him that you’re going to be his bodyguard and see what happens.”

“After all,” I said, wry, as we started moving for the exit again, “it won’t be the first time I’ve had to babysit an arsy kid, now will it?”

***

When we got outside, though, breaking the news to Jamie about my new role in his life suddenly became a side issue.

William and Paxo were still there. In fact, William was still sitting on his Kawasaki not looking like he’d moved at all apart from removing his helmet. The padding had left two matching imprints in the flesh of his cheeks. The helmet was resting on the tank and he had his arms folded across the dome of it.

Paxo was still standing by his Ducati like a terrier – stiff and bristling and looking ready to bite someone at any moment. Jamie was next to William, as though for protection, but this time he wasn’t the one who had Paxo’s baleful attention.

The big biker who’d accompanied Tess to the hospital the day before was standing up close to the front of Paxo’s bike. He had three carrier bags in one massive hand, and two bike helmets in the other, dangling from their straps.

One helmet was open face and matt black in colour – clearly his own. The other was an expensive custom-painted Shoei. It wasn’t until we got closer I realised from the damage that it must have been Slick’s. There was a nasty scrape across the front of the tinted visor and a sizeable gouge out of the gelcoat on one side that allowed the white inner shell to show through like bone.

Poking out of the top of one of the bags I could see the zipped sleeve of a distinctive black leather bike jacket. He must have just been in to collect Slick’s effects. All his worldly goods distilled into a few plastic bags.

The big man’s eyes skated over Sean and me once, lingered on Sean for a moment longer, then he turned back to Paxo and carried on his conversation with hardly a break in stride.

Not that ‘conversation’ quite summed it up. Both of them looked just about ready to come to the boil.

“I’m tellin’ you, you can’t go without Tess,” the big guy said now, his jaw set stubbornly.

“Why not?” Paxo tossed back.

The biker’s eyes slid pointedly in our direction for a second, then skipped back. “We already been over that,” he said. “You owe her, all of you. Big time.”

Paxo threw up his hands and clenched his fists, as though he would have liked nothing better than to feel them close round the other man’s throat. He would have needed a stepladder.

It was left to William to say calmly, “Look, Gleet, we know it was Slick’s idea and we won’t forget that, but we’re on with it now. It’s nothing to do with Tess any more. She’s got to let it go.”

“‘Let it go’?” Gleet, the big biker, echoed bitterly. “What about the money?”

“She’ll get her money back, don’t worry,” William said, his voice soothing. “We won’t see her short.”

“That’s not the point,” Gleet persisted, scowling. “You need her.”

“I don’t think so, mate,” Paxo said. He fished into the inside pocket of his leathers and came out with a packet of cigarettes that had all the corners bent, and a Zippo lighter. He lit up, cupping his hand round the flame and eyeing Gleet through the smoke. “This is going to be a fast trip – you know that,” he said as he exhaled. “We don’t have room for passengers.”

As he spoke his gaze flicked to Jamie and it seemed the comment worked on more than one level. Jamie managed a defiant stare in return.
He’s on a bike half their size and he won’t admit he can’t really keep up.

“Tell ’em, Gnasher,” Gleet said, and it took me a moment to work out who he was talking to. “You were Slick’s mate. He stood up for you. You tell ’em.”

Jamie smiled blandly. “It’s not up to me, is it?”

“Oh right. Gone and fuckin’ forgotten already, huh?” Gleet let his breath out fast down his nose, flaring his nostrils like a cart horse. It wasn’t a good look for him. His arm came up and he stabbed out an accusing finger. The carrier bags swung wildly. “Some mates of his you lot are!”

I felt my stomach tighten as the heat rose one notch closer to outright ignition but Sean was already moving in. He angled his body so Gleet was forced to turn away from the others, opening up a gap, giving the steam somewhere to go. I moved in, too, reinforcing the stance Sean had taken.

“I think that’s enough,” Sean said quietly. “You’ve said your piece. Don’t take this further here than it needs to go.”

Gleet glared at him. He held his ground a few moments longer, his face belligerent, still hoping that his undoubted reputation would do the job for him. But when he realised at last that his bad name wasn’t going to carry the fight alone, he weighed the odds and wisely threw in his hand.

Gleet stepped back and glared at each of the faces in front of him, ours included, as though he was committing them to memory.

“You bunch of losers have no idea,” he said with quiet venom, shaking his head, “what you’re gettin’ yourselves into.”

And with that he turned on his heel and stalked away.

***

Sean and I were very restrained. We waited until we were away from the others before we backed Jamie up against a wall. At least, I backed him there with my fists wrapped deep in the weave of his T-shirt.

Gleet was long gone. William and Paxo had lidded up and hit the starters to fire up those loud pipes, and swept out of the car park. I hadn’t much cared about that one way or the other. I’d much more pressing matters on my mind. I wanted answers out of Jacob’s son and I wasn’t too fussy how I got them.

Sean let me lead it, just closing in on my left, standing apparently casual but in exactly the right place to block anyone’s view. He had his head tilted slightly and a mildly interested expression on his face, like he was waiting to see how badly I was prepared to hurt Jamie, but he wasn’t planning on interfering.

We were just outside the entrance to the wing that housed the Accident and Emergency unit. The planners had left nooks and crannies in the exterior design that I imagine were normally a refuge for the nicotine-addicted. It was certainly private enough for what I had in mind.

“Hey!” Jamie protested now as I bumped him back against the brickwork. He was smiling, as though he still believed he could laugh his way out of this. It was only when he took a proper look at my face that he fully realised the error he’d made in allowing me to get hold of him. His attempt at amusement began to slip as his eyes flicked from my face to Sean’s and he found no comfort there either. His bravado surfaced.

“What is this?” he demanded. He brought his hands up angrily and swatted at my fists. That the action failed to break my grip clearly startled him. His head came up but the brickwork behind him gave him nowhere to go. I saw the first trace of unease. Not fear – not yet – but it wasn’t far away.

“What is this?” he said again but there was less attitude this time.

“What this is,” I said, “is the time that you stop bullshitting us and tell us exactly what’s going on here.”

His eyes slid to Sean’s face again. Mine followed and just for a second I saw what he saw. Without animation Sean’s face was hard, even cold, the slanted cheekbones like the angles of a mask, studded with that black wintry gaze. An arresting yet deadly set of features, capable of showing no mercy.

As I knew only too well.

Jamie swallowed and whatever snappy comeback he’d been about to make died on his lips. But he wasn’t quite out of courage yet.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said. He heard the nerves tightening his vocal cords and swallowed again, forcing himself to relax.

“Come on, Jamie,” I said. “What was all that about with Gleet? Why is he getting so bent out of shape about this Irish trip? What’s the big deal with Tess not being allowed to go with you?”

“Slick paid up front,” Jamie said. “Gleet just wants to make sure she gets her money back.”

“How much are we talking about?”

He shrugged, as far as he could with me hanging onto the front of his shirt. “I dunno. There’s the ferry, hotels, that kind of thing. A fair amount.”

“Come on,” I said again. “That’s not enough to get so excited about.”

“It might not be for you, but Tess is on her own now and she’s got a kid to look after,” Jamie said, reproachful. “Slick wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to have life insurance, now was he?”

He was right there. The Slick Grannells of this world were too convinced of their own immortality to bother with anything so mundane. There was more, but I had a sense that Jamie wasn’t going to volunteer it.

“Clare’s asked me to go with you to Ireland and watch your back,” I said instead.

“
You
?” The single word burst scornful from his lips, propelled by surprise and a fine touch of resentment. Then I watched the memory of getting beaten to the floor with a rolled up magazine in his father’s hallway come back to him. He flushed, a deep rosy colour that flooded up from the open neck of his leathers and finished in the roots of his hair. “How?”

“Charlie’s job is close protection, did nobody tell you that?” Sean said, his voice mild. His eyes made a lazy pass over me. “She’s very good at it.”

Jamie’s own eyes shifted back to me and there was something else in them now. It was fleeting enough to be almost subliminal, but there might just have been a hint of relief. Then it was gone.

“No dice,” he said. “This isn’t some kind of grannies’ outing. You can’t just put your name down and turn up at the docks. It’s members only. You’ve got to earn the right to be there.”

I chose to ignore the granny gibe. I was only twenty-six – a year younger than Clare – but I suppose she was, technically, almost his stepmother. “Members of what?”

Jamie went silent, realising he’d probably said more than he’d set out to. Again the little flick of the eyes to Sean. Sean didn’t speak, didn’t change his expression, he just moved forwards maybe half an inch, barely more than a shifting of his weight. It was enough for Jamie. More than enough.

His gaze snapped back to meet mine, caught and held it like he was afraid to let it go. Like if he didn’t look at Sean the danger he represented might go away.

“The Devil’s Bridge Club,” he said quickly. “It’s just a group of bikers who’ve got together for a bit of a laugh, you know.”

“So how do I join?”

I felt his shoulders drop a fraction under my hands and he grinned at me unexpectedly. There was the sharp reminder of Jacob’s bones under his skin. It served to make me ease off a little. But not that much.

“Simple,” he said. “All you’ve got to do is qualify. There’s a meet on Wednesday up in the Lakes. You ride the route quick enough, you’re in.”

I got the impression from his sudden change of heart that the procedure was actually far more complicated than it sounded.

“Is that why William and Paxo are so set against Tess coming with you?” I asked. “Is she not quick enough?”

“She doesn’t even have a licence,” Jamie said, dismissive. “Slick was going to take her on the back of his. He reckoned he was just as quick two up.”

Two up.

“Was that what he was doing when he crashed?” I demanded. “Proving it – with someone who didn’t matter on the back?”

I felt him flinch under my hands. I gave him a shake.

“Come on, Jamie,” I said. “It doesn’t end there. What were you really after when you broke in last night? And even without the drive alarm, why didn’t the dogs go crazy?”

He huffed out a breath. “Maybe they’ve got good memories. Look, you’re making way too much of this, Charlie.” He paused, then hit me with that brilliant smile again. “And I told you, I was just after a place to stay. Fuck me, I used to live there, remember? It used to be my home,” he said and the smile turned bright and brittle. “I’ve more of a right to be there than you have, so back off or clear out, OK?”

And with that he jerked himself free of my loosened grasp, stepped round me and walked away, twitching one shoulder like a cat that’s had its fur thoroughly ruffled. We watched him go.

“Well that was fun,” Sean said dryly. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “What’s next?”

“Shit, I don’t know,” I said. My eyes were still on Jamie’s departing figure until he turned a corner and disappeared from view. My tone was gloomy. “You’re the ideas’ man.”

Sean smiled. “I thought I was just providing the muscle.”

***

We walked back to where I’d left my bike. Although I hadn’t known it, it was only three spaces away from Sean’s vehicle. His company had a pool of big four-by-fours and this time he was driving a black Mitsubishi Shogun. We stood next to it, awkward, Sean holding his keys. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my leather jeans.