Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 (38 page)

BOOK: Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12
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Jimmy was puffing on a zeppelin of a cigar. It glowed fiery orange in the darkness as he tipped it my way.

‘I hear you put in a good word for me,’ he said.

‘No more than you deserved, Jimmy.’

‘All the same,’ he said, ‘I appreciate it.’

There was a short pause as he looked around, appearing in awe of the surroundings, much like a vampire locked in a fencing warehouse.

Interrupting his trance, I said, ‘I’d love to stay and chat over old times, Jimmy, but I must get on.’

‘Sure,’ he said, taking another drag. ‘I just wanted to let you know something.’

‘You’ve cancelled the adoption request?’

Jimmy elbowed Tommy. ‘He’s still funny, though, isn’t he, Tom?’

Tommy clutched his sides, the pain seeming to sear through him, but he said nothing.

Jimmy moved up a step and continued. ‘Not that
,
as it happens.’

‘It’s late. Why don’t you just write me a letter? Tom can help with the bigger words.’

‘Not much of a letters man,’ said Jimmy, grinning. ‘And you know me, I prefer things up close and personal.’

‘The hallmark of a great communicator.’ I squinted at Tommy. ‘There’s two words for you right off the bat.’

‘Anyway,’ said Jimmy, ‘I wanted you to know,
mano a mano
, that as far as I’m concerned, we’re even.’ He winked. ‘No hard feelings, eh.’

‘None on my side. I’m not one for grudges.’

‘Good, very reassuring.’

He stood there quietly puffing away but not moving.

‘Is there something else?’

‘Seeing as you ask, yes,’ he said. ‘You see, we may be even, but my boy here isn’t as forgiving.’ He looked coolly at his favourite gorilla. ‘Are you, Tom?’

Tommy inclined his head at Jimmy and then glared at me.

 ‘Reckons he’s owed some retribution. He’s still upset about that river dance. Not to mention you sticking him at the Town Hall. His back was turned, for Chrissakes. Where’s that in the fuckin’ rules?’ He waggled a finger. ‘Tut, fuckin’ tut.’

‘Be fair, Jimmy. He’s had loads of free shots at me.’

Jimmy shrugged. ‘That was
business
. Now you’ve made it personal.’

‘I’m sure he’ll feel different tomorrow.’

Jimmy glanced at Tommy and then looked back at me. ‘No, his mind’s made up. He wants a re-match.’

Before I could reply I saw Kate gliding onto the lower steps from the opposite direction. She didn’t look at me. Her gaze stayed fixed on the “Fun Boy Two

.

‘Either of you come within fifty feet of my client after midnight tonight and you’ll be in breach of a restraining order.’ She took out a document from her handbag and thrust it at them. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

Tommy took an instinctive step backwards, while Jimmy chuckled quietly to himself.

‘It’s eleven fifty-eight, gentlemen,’ added Kate.

Jimmy bit on his cigar and gave a slow clap. ‘That’s a fancy piece of legal skirt you got yourself there, Eddie.’

I looked at Kate. ‘She knows moves all right.’

Kate took a step towards Jimmy, her restraining order out front like a shield. It made a wide-eyed Tommy take another two paces backwards, as if it had turned into a bazooka.

‘Tic toc,’ she said.

Jimmy looked at his watch. ‘Is that the time? Best be going.’ He took out a business card and flicked it towards Kate. ‘My number.’ He winked at her. ‘If you fancy changing sides, call me. I can triple whatever this loser pays you. Think about it, sweetheart.’

‘Keep your money. When I sue you for breach, you’ll need every penny.’

Jimmy gave her another wink. ‘We’ll see.’ He raised his cigar at me in salute. ‘See you around, Eddie. Don’t be a stranger now.’

‘I’m sure we can work out visitation rights.’ I gave him a one fingered wave. ‘Take care.’

On a reflex, Tommy lunged forward, but Jimmy blocked his path. ‘There’ll be other days.’ He patted the damaged “Man-Hulk” on the back and steered him away.

I watched as they turned and ambled back towards the Merc.

‘Hey, Tommy,’ I called out.

Tommy stopped and turned side on. ‘What?’

‘You fell for the oldest trick in the book. Duck next time.’

He stood still for a few seconds, sharing his best menacing look, and then continued on his way. I trundled down the steps and gave Kate a hug.

‘My hero,’ I said.

‘Any time, Mr Greene.’

I looked at her, trying not to smile. ‘That piece of paper?’

‘What about it?’

‘It’s your dry cleaning bill, right?’

She fixed me a look of disapproval. ‘No, Dunderhead, it’s a real restraining order.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep.’ She shrugged. ‘Just not in your name.’

I cocked my thumb at her. ‘Neat move, counsellor.’

She nodded her head at where Jimmy had been standing. ‘Now I know he’s been released, I can get you a real one if you want.’

I shook my head. ‘Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?’

‘You should be.’

‘Never laid a glove on me.’

She touched the stitches on my face. ‘Someone did.’

‘A lucky punch is all.’

Kate turned her head to watch the Merc pulling away. ‘I was hoping he’d have been locked up by now.’ She angled her head back at me, an inquisitive look showing. ‘Seeing as he isn’t, I take it the police are charging the Nkongos?’

I gave her my best thoughtful look.

‘Come on, Ed, what’s going on?’

I took a step forward, tugging her along. ‘This way, beautiful.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘I’m taking you for a drink.’

‘At this time?’

‘Yeah, I know a little place.’

‘Will it be open?’

‘It’s got the latest of late licences.’

She gave me a doubtful look.

‘You’ll love it,’ I said. ‘Trust me.’

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

 

Sunday – 24:12

 

We entered the Voodoo Moon Club as a clique of sodden revellers came out. They waddled past us, and I nabbed the side booth they’d just vacated. On the way to the club, Kate had pressed me about the Nkongos, but I’d told her I needed a drink first. Ain’t that the truth. Having arrived, I still needed that drink.

For a basement bar on a late Sunday night, the place was jumping. That’s Weighton for you. The music was chilled, and the volume low enough that people could talk. We sat on grain sack pouffes with a low glass table between us. Before I could even glance at the drinks list, Kate pressed a thumb into my arm.

‘Enough with the prevarication, Ed. Now spill.’

‘I’ll grab some drinks first.’ I stood up.

‘Ed! Give me something to go on?’

 ‘Okay. Take a look at this.’ I took the confession statement from my jacket pocket and slipped it in front of her. ‘This should answer your questions.’

Kate looked between me and the piece of paper, then began to read.

I watched for a sign on her face, that didn’t come, then limped to the bar and ordered two Voodoo Magic cocktails. After the barman had shaken, stirred, and poured the potions, I took them to our booth. Kate waited for me to sit down and then slid the statement back to my side of the table.

I folded the copy and put it back in my pocket. ‘Surprised?’

‘I had an inkling.’ She showed no expression, just sipped her drink.

‘Okay, maybe something you might have shared … earlier.’

‘I didn’t want to go there.’

‘I didn’t even think of going there.’ The mental picture of Elaine’s final moments kept flashing in front of my eyes. ‘It’s a hell of a thing. Gives new meaning to the expression “twin killing”.’

She rocked from side to side on her pouffe. ‘It makes me shudder. It’s not natural.’

‘I know. But they’d been estranged for most of their adult lives, and Helen treated Elaine like she was dead most of the time anyway. That’s what I told Hobbs when the penny dropped. They were more “one and a half” than twins.’

‘I don’t want to visualise what happened that day,’ said Kate, taking another sip. ‘The whole thing doesn’t feel right.’

Letting the booze do its work, I relaxed into the pouffe and told her about my “data transfers” with Hobbs at the station. She took it in without saying much, but a sideways smile didn’t leave her face.

‘What would he have done without you? And no one can say you didn’t go above and beyond, Ed, stitching up your first client like that.’

She was right, and it stung. It made me wonder if Helen Porson was already in a cell, and what would happen to her next.

‘I suppose there won’t be a trial.’

Kate paused mid-sip. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Hobbs got a confession.’

‘She can always refute it.’

‘Really?’

‘Sure. As soon as her legal team start looking at the angles, they’ll want to run a diminished responsibility defence.’

‘You think?’

‘That’s what I’d do.’

‘And a jury will buy that?’

‘Maybe.’ She shrugged. ‘Her barrister will argue she was in fear of her life, that it was her only way out. They’ll say she was being threatened by Cartwright and hounded by the Nkongos.’ I watched her twizzle her cocktail stick in the ice. ‘If it was me defending, I’d claim she wasn’t of sound mind, that her actions were those of a person incapable of understanding right from wrong, at least at that moment. Also, there’s a kind of euthanasia argument to run. Elaine didn’t have a meaningful life as such.’ Kate traced a finger over my jacket pocket. ‘Just reading her confession you start to feel compassion for her.’

‘I think it’s designed to read like that.’ I took a long draw on my cocktail. It didn’t have much alcohol content, but I was beginning to feel woozy all the same.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Her statement makes out she got caught up in the panic and shock of it all, then acted on a deranged impulse.’

‘But?’

‘I’m not sure. I think after Jimmy left and Helen found Elaine, it didn’t take long before she realised what had happened. And she thought it through, weighed it up. She saw a way out, a neat solution to all her problems. She made a cold-blooded decision to take a piece of cord from her sewing box and do the evil deed. She probably even convinced herself she was doing Elaine a favour.’

BOOK: Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12
13.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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