The Crooked Beat (25 page)

Harry picked up a biscuit. His hand trembled slightly. ‘If I was able to, I’d come and have a look. Walking to the old Craven Park from here on a Sunday afternoon used to be one of life’s great pleasures for me. We’d all go. Me, the wife and the kids. We’d often stop for a quick drink in the pub on our way. Those were the days, alright.’

His face still had some life in it. I told him that my dad used to take me to games when he could. My memories were similar to his, despite the difference in our ages.

Harry shuffled back in his seat. ‘You could have been a great player, I reckon.’

I thanked him for his kind words, but I wouldn’t be the last player to have a career taken away by injury. It wasn’t important now. I took the photograph of Carl Palmer that Sarah had taken at St Andrews Quay out of my pocket and passed it across to him. ‘Was this the man you saw outside of Reg’s house?’

He took a long look. ‘Terrible business. I was lucky to be away when it happened. My daughter’s got a caravan at Bridlington, so I like to get some fresh air when I can.’ He passed it back and nodded. ‘That’s the one.’

I thanked them both for their time and left. I got back in my car and drove the short distance to my dad’s pub. I parked up outside and stared at it. In many ways, it looked no different to me. Things were becoming clearer to me now. Reg Holborn’s death was down to George Sutherland. Carl Palmer would have been acting on his orders. Sutherland had tried to blackmail him, like he had others who had something to lose if news about Andrew Bancroft’s death came out. But something had gone wrong. Maybe Palmer was only meant to threaten Holborn, but Holborn was infirm. If Palmer dropped a cigarette and left, there was nothing Holborn could have done about it. It wasn’t enough, though. I had nothing more than the fact Palmer had been seen close to the house. It was useful information and confirmed certain things, but it wasn’t proof in itself. I opened my eyes, and taking one last look at my dad’s pub, I put my car in gear and drove away.

I checked the time. I was due at George Sutherland’s pub. There was no way of avoiding it now. I drove across the city towards his pub. The front door was slightly open. I pushed it open and walked in. There was a middle-aged woman cleaning the bar. Carl Palmer was sprawled across the seating, reading a newspaper.

‘You won’t find the latest economic news in there,’ I said to him.

He put it to one side. ‘Glad to see you’ve still got a sense of humour despite the shit you’re in.’ He picked up his mobile and made a call.

We waited in silence until Sutherland walked down the stairs and joined us. He stared at me. ‘You didn’t want a drink did you?’

‘No.’

‘Good. The till isn’t set up yet.’ He turned to Palmer and laughed. ‘At least we don’t need to tell the cunt where the toilet is.’

I let them have their joke. I stared at Palmer, thinking about his dad and what had happened to Andrew Bancroft. I thought about Reg Holborn, too.

‘Are you listening, Geraghty?’ Sutherland said.

I snapped back to the conversation. ‘I’m listening.’

‘Good.’ Sutherland lit up a cigarette. ‘This is the plan.’ He outlined it to me. ‘I’m getting a van sorted. You and your brother are going to drive it over. Me and Carl will be going over as foot passengers. Once we’re in Belgium, you’re going to drive to Bruges and pick us up from the train station. Get a map. It’s not difficult to find. We’ll go and see my supplier, load up the van and then you’re driving it back over. He’s not happy, so you’re going to show your face and apologise if that’s what he wants. You’re going to tell him you want to put the situation right. I had to fucking beg to get this sorted at short notice, so it’s the least you can do.’

‘This clears the debt?’ I said.

Sutherland laughed. ‘Are you taking the piss? You’re involved until this is all sorted out. I’ve got to make it up to my contact over here yet. They’re testing me, Geraghty, and if I fail, the deal collapses.’ He pointed at me. ‘You can work it out. If that happens, I’ll hold you responsible. If it gets sorted out, it’s likely I’ll have some other jobs for you to do, but I’ll consider your brother out of the picture.’

I didn’t have any choice but to accept the deal. I’d worry about myself later. I nodded my agreement.

Sutherland passed me an envelope with my documents in it.

‘My catering contacts have provided the paperwork. You’re going over to buy some supplies. It’s as simple as that. So far as I can see, you’re an unemployed no-mark looking for work. This company, which specialises in continental coffee and shit like that, is giving you a chance. And don’t worry about the van. The number plates will check out. It’s a piece of piss if you don’t do anything stupid.’

‘That’s it?’

‘Peter Hill seems to have fucked off on holiday, so that’s it. Have some faith in your own abilities, Geraghty. We don’t need him.’

I was no expert in how you went about smuggling cigarettes into the country, even if it was only a relatively small amount in a van, It went way beyond what I could bring into the country for personal usage. Although I was expendable in Sutherland’s eyes, I was expecting a bit more of a plan than shutting your eyes, driving through and hoping for the best. He had financial difficulties and was rolling the dice. But there was no other choice.

Sutherland took a long drag on his cigarette and stared at me. He eventually shrugged. ‘Plan sounds ok to me.’ He stubbed the cigarette out and leaned forward. Palmer threw me a mobile phone.

Sutherland spoke. ‘He bought it for cash yesterday. It’s pay-as-you-go and unregistered.’

I turned it over in my hand and looked at it. It was basic and functional.

‘I’ve got the same. There’s only one number in it. It’s under the name Lloyd. Mine says Hubbard.’ He smiled at his own joke. They were the two kickers whose battle had been decisive in the all Hull Challenge Cup Final of 1980. Hubbard had kicked his attempts. Lloyd hadn’t. Sutherland could obviously sense my reluctance. He passed another envelope over. ‘Open that, Geraghty.’

I did as I was told and took out a photograph. I was looking at Lauren standing at the school gate, talking to one of her friends. It was the exact same trick he’d pulled with Peter Hill. There was no point being angry. I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness in front of him. I put it away and told him I’d do what he wanted.

‘That’s the spirit. You wouldn’t want them hurt, would you?’

I leaned across the table, meeting him halfway, unable to check myself. ‘You mean like you hurt Don?’

‘Don made his choice.’

It confirmed what I knew. Palmer’s description matched with what Don’s neighbour had given me. It made sense now. I took another chance and stared at him. ‘Is that what happened with Reg Holborn?’

Sutherland relaxed into his seat. I knew I’d scored a hit. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he spoke to Palmer. ‘Fuck off for a few minutes, Carl.’

Palmer stared at me, obvious hatred for me in his eyes. I winked at him, wanting to get under his skin. He eventually stood up and left.

Sutherland spoke. ‘I suggest you watch your mouth, Geraghty, before it gets you into serious trouble.’

‘I know all about you.’

He lit up another cigarette. ‘You know fuck all.’

‘You’d be surprised.’

‘Can you prove what you think you know?’

I had no answer to that. Sutherland laughed. ‘Didn’t think so.’

‘Did you know Roger Millfield killed himself last night?’ I said.

His eyes narrowed before he eventually shrugged. He took another drag on his cigarette. ‘Best find myself a new accountant, then.’ He stubbed the cigarette out. ‘Do you think Don’s going to help you out this time?’

‘Maybe when he’s recovered the beating you had Palmer give him.’

Sutherland sighed. ‘You’re getting tiresome now, Geraghty.’ He leaned forwards and put his hands together on the table. ‘Shall I tell you about your precious Don? Don was always a self-righteous cunt when he was in the police. Nobody liked him.’ He sat back. ‘Especially your dad.’

I felt stuck to my seat, my throat dry. ‘My dad?’

‘Didn’t you know they were acquainted?’

My head was spinning. I knew I was about to learn something unpleasant.

‘Do you remember your dad being put in hospital? No doubt you were told it was a punter who got carried away, or some such shit?’ He smiled. ‘Of course you were.’ He jabbed a finger at me. ‘Your dad’s pub was one of those looked after by Salford. Or it would have been had he just paid up, like he was told to.’

I found myself asking what had happened.

‘Holborn would have a quiet word with people who wouldn’t play ball, maybe threaten to take a look at their licence. It’s not rocket science. Holborn would sometimes take a trusted side-kick with him, someone who could help him out if it got a bit unpleasant. It seems on this occasion, he took Don with him.’

I could barely speak. ‘Don?’

‘Your precious Don.’

I felt sick. Don had never given any indication that he’d met my dad. I tried to breathe normally.

Sutherland repeated the time he expected me to be back here for to collect the van. ‘Don is fuck all help to you now.’ He stood up. ‘Don’t be late.’

I left Sutherland’s pub in a daze. I was still shaking as I got into my car. I needed to stay in control of what was happening. For a start, I only had Sutherland’s version of events. I couldn’t trust him. Was he telling me the truth about Don and my dad? I punched the steering wheel and screamed before hunching over it, taking deep breaths. It was a waste of energy. I told myself this wasn’t helping. I drove slowly across Hull, behind a stream of lorries and tankers heading for the motorway. There was an obvious place to head for.

Niall’s bar was already busy. He was definitely going to make a go of it. I was proud of him for that. I was sure our dad would feel the same. He was sitting in the corner, working on his laptop. I walked over and told him I needed a word. We went through to his office. Niall sat down behind his desk. I perched on a corner of it. ‘You’re not getting on the ferry,’ I said.

He looked at me. ‘It’s all sorted?’

I shook my head. ‘I’m still going.’

‘I should go as well.’

I walked over to the door and made sure it was shut before leaning against it. ‘I need you to keep an eye on things here.’

‘I’m not a kid, Joe. You don’t need to patronise me with that type of shit.’

I stood my ground. ‘I don’t want you on that ferry. I’ve no idea who these people in Belgium are, or what Sutherland has in mind.’

‘What are you going to do?’

It was a good question. I told him about the documents Sutherland had given me. I’d photocopied them and posted them to Niall. It was a precaution.

My brother was lost for words. ‘It’s too dangerous,’ he eventually said. ‘You can’t do it.’

I moved back across the room and sat down. George Sutherland has said it would settle Niall’s debt. That was reason enough for now. My own situation would wait.

‘Why are you doing this, Joe? It’s not your mess. I should be sorting it out.’

The reason was obvious to me. ‘You’re my family. You’re all I’ve got.’ I was prepared to trade off my past with Dave Johnson for their futures. It was as simple as that. ‘I’ve got nothing to lose.’

‘You’ve got Sarah?’

‘I haven’t got Sarah.’

‘You could have if you wanted.’

I shook my head, telling him he was wrong.

‘I don’t think so.’ He smiled. ‘I’m your big brother. It’s my job to know these things.’

It didn’t matter whether he was right or wrong about Sarah, I knew of things that couldn’t be spoken, things that would sit there like a cancer in me before inevitably rising to the surface. Some secrets always come out, like the one Kath Millfield and Don had been carrying for decades.

I changed the subject. ‘Do you remember when dad was attacked at the pub?’

He was surprised by my question, but he said he did remember. ‘Day after the Challenge Cup Final? That’s why I remember it. Me and you out on the field behind the pub, replaying the game? Do you remember that?’

I did. George Sutherland had reminded me of it, but it wasn’t a day I was going to forget in a hurry.

Niall continued. ‘All I really remember is dad refusing to go to hospital. Mum had shouted at him, but he wouldn’t budge.’

‘Do you remember seeing people hanging around the pub?’

‘There were always people hanging around.’

‘Out of place people?’

He blew some air out and shook his head. ‘I was only a kid, really. I wasn’t really looking.’

It was what I expected him to say. He asked me why I was interested. I told him what Sutherland had told me.

‘Protection money from dad’s pub? I can’t see it.’

I took my brother’s point. The area was hardly a crime hot-spot, but it would have been easy pickings. ‘It could be bullshit,’ I said.

‘But you don’t think so?’

I shook my head. It all fitted. That was the bottom-line.

‘I was always told it was a drunk with a grudge who did it, jealous of dad’s success.’ Niall paused for a moment. ‘He changed after the attack, didn’t he?’

‘Definitely.’

‘He was a shadow of himself.’

I didn’t need to say I agreed. It was a fact.

‘I know I’ve never said it, but dad would be proud of you. You know that?’

I hoped that was true. ‘I need you to do one thing for me.’

‘Name it.’

‘I need you to keep an eye on Connor, too. He’s going to make it, you know. He’ll have that club night up and running before you know it. He just needs a bit of a support. That’s all.’

He nodded to me as I left.

I’d missed three calls from Coleman. I returned to my car and called him back. He answered immediately. ‘We need to talk,’ he said. ‘Do you know the pull-in on the road to Paull, down the side of BP?’

I told him I did. It wouldn’t be hard to find.

‘Can you come now?’

The traffic as I crossed Hull was light. I passed the prison and wondered what Johnson was doing. I wondered if he was counting down the days until he was released? I didn’t want to think about it. The landscape thinned out. BP Saltend loomed large on the right hand side, a tangle of piping and cooling towers. I turned off the main road and looked for Coleman. He was easy to spot. I pulled my car in alongside his and stepped out. He was leaning against the bonnet, staring out across the patchwork of fields which led across to the village of Thorngumbald. It was desolate. A single car made its way towards us, coming from the direction of Paull.