Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 (22 page)

‘I know you’re not gonna believe this,’ I said, ‘but there’s someone behind you.’ I gave him the big déjà vu nod and winked. ‘Smile for the camera, shit-face.’

They both turned to look. On the pavement behind us, leaning casually – and beautifully – against her car, was Kate. She waved with one hand while her other pointed a camera phone at our little cameo.

‘Harry Hill will love this one, boys.’

Robert Nkongo slipped his arm around his brother’s shoulders and dragged him off.

In super slo-mo I lowered my arms. ‘Bless you, Robert.’ I gave him the stiff-eye. ‘It is Robert?’

He nodded, edged the snarling Kip a few steps away, and turned back to me. ‘What can we do for you?’

I smoothed down my jacket and gave a little shake of the head. ‘
Au contraire
, my Princely friend. It’s what I can do for you.’

‘He lies,’ interjected Kip, screwing up his face. He made to step forward, but the younger Nkongo held him back.

Robert gave his brother a stern look, then spoke. ‘I’m sorry. My brother is … hot-headed.’

‘Impetuous to a fault, maybe, but I love him anyway. He must’ve mentioned me? We’re well acquainted already.’ I gestured at Kip. ‘Isn’t that right, Gonzo?’

Kip scowled.

‘Please,’ said Robert, ‘tell us why you are here?’

The trailer had been a dream, but now we were onto the main feature. The con was on.

‘You want to know about your mother, Robert. Have I got that right?’

‘Yes, this is why I have come to England.’

‘Well, I can do better than that.’

‘I don’t understand.’

I put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Breaking news, my friend. Helen Porson lied to you. Your mother is very much alive and I know where she is.’

His lower jaw fell, and he took a moment to steady himself. ‘It is what I have known in my heart all along.’

Kip went to speak, but his brother pushed a palm into his chest, quelling the interruption. ‘This really is true?’ asked Robert.

I nodded.

‘Then you must tell me.’

‘That I will, me being second last of the boy scouts n’all. But in return ...’

Robert looked at me closely, suspicion settling on his face. ‘In return, Mr Eddie?’

‘I need information.’

‘About what?’

‘Your dealings with Helen Porson.’

Robert crossed his arms. ‘A simple trade?’

‘I see you’re picking this up as we go along.’

Kip snorted. ‘And we trust you?’

I smiled. ‘Here’s the thing. You don’t have to.’ I pointed at Kate. ‘Check out my glamorous assistant. Who’s not gonna trust that angel face? Am I right, boys?’

They looked over at Kate, and she waved again. The Nkongos exchanged a compliant shrug. My spring was sprung. Now it was time to reload.

‘Here’s the deal. A hundred yards in that direction is the Mayflower Arms.’ I arrowed my finger down Hope Street. ‘It don’t exactly smell of roses in there, but it’s quiet. Another selling point: I’ll be there for the next twenty minutes. That’s me
and
the fragrant Ms Connolly. Trust me, she’s even better close up.’ I reached over and pressed Robert’s upper arm. ‘You and Da Dynamite Kid talk it over, yeah?’

Robert held my eye. ‘You’ll tell me about my mother?’

I stuck my tongue behind my front teeth and nodded. ‘Come see me.’

After tipping my head, I strode past the Nkongos and headed over to Kate. Without looking back, I linked arms with her, and we strolled down Hope Street. Maybe the Sunday afternoon traffic wouldn’t mistake us for star-crossed lovers, but we looked winsome all the same.

~

Two glasses of mineral water fizzed on the badly stained table. Our second round. By turns, Kate and I glanced expectantly at the pub door, but it was only troubled by the draught.

Apart from “Cider Bill” with his nose stuck in the paper at the bar, we were the only patrons in Weighton’s most understandably underrated city centre hostelry. I looked at my watch and frowned. According to Seiko Quartz, thirty five minutes had passed since the nervy trade-off with the African brothers.

‘You think they’ll come?’ asked Kate, her voice indicating otherwise.

‘Sure.’ I flicked the Boddies bar mat for the seven hundred and eleventh time. ‘It ain’t like they’re on the midnight train to Georgia.’

Kate looked at me from the corner of her eye but didn’t reply.

I knew she hadn’t devoted much of her life to the pursuit of trivia, but there are times when needs must. I figured I had to stay in shape for quiz night anyway. ‘You may not know this,’ I told her, ‘but there’s a Manchester in Georgia. One in Tennessee, too.’

‘Really,’ she said, not interrupting her door vigil. ‘And is there a market in Weighton?’

‘It’s a long shot but I’m going with “yes”.’

She took a sip. ‘How long will we wait?’

 ‘As long as. Gotta keep on keepin’ on. Right?’

Before Kate could reply, long shadows bore down on the glass doors. Like in an old-time Western, the doors swung open as the black hats blew in. The Nkongo boys were definitely in town, but they looked in no mood to speak easy.

Kate patted my arm as I watched them scan their surroundings. They saw us and came over.

‘What you havin’, boys?’ I lifted my glass. ‘I can recommend the house blue.’

The Nkongos shook their heads and sat down opposite.

I touched Kate’s lower back and angled my hand at our visitors. ‘Kate, this is Robert and his brother Kip.’ They gave a brief nod. ‘Kip, Robert, this is Kate, the angel of whom I told. I think you’ll agree she already deserves that top billing?’

Kate nodded and beamed at them. ‘Hello.’

The expression on Kip’s face remained fixed. In contrast, Robert flashed a smile at Kate, but it had faded by the time it reached me.

‘Please, I must know about my mother.’

‘Sure you do. That’s where we all want to get to. All in good time. First, I need to know what you two space cadets have been up to in Weighton?’

They sat in silence, faces frozen. I wondered where I could find an icebreaker at short notice.

‘Why should I go first?’ Robert finally asked.

‘Someone has to, and it’s not my turn.’ I fiddled with the bar mat. ‘Anyway, you have my word.’ I did the sign. ‘Cross my heart and hope to fry.’

Kip alternated his stare between the pub bric-a-brac and Kate. He clearly had an eye for interior decor.

Robert set his hands on the table as a sign. ‘What do you wish to know?’

I smiled. ‘See how easy that was?’

Neither of them smiled back.

‘Okay, your starter for ten. When did you arrive in Weighton?’

‘Two weeks ago,’ said Robert.

‘And you wrote a letter before you came?’

‘Yes. I wanted to introduce myself. I only learnt the truth about my mother after my father died. When I was told of her, and where she was from, I knew I must try to find her. The only information I had was the name and address of her twin sister. That is why I wrote.’

‘And she replied?’

‘Yes. She said my mother was dead. She told me not to come. ‘

‘You still did.’

‘Of course. I needed to know who she was and why she …’ His words trailed away, but he lifted his head in a dignified pose.

‘Why she never came back for you?’

He lowered his big eyes and nodded.

‘So you set up camp in our fair borough and wrote to her again?’

Robert leaned forward and stared at me. ‘If you know all this, why do you ask?’

‘As you are learning, Helen Porson not always speak with straight tongue.’ I smiled. ‘I want to make sure what she told me is correct.’

He nodded. ‘I see.’

‘And did she contact you at the B and B?’

He sighed heavily, his cheeks bowing. ‘Yes. She sent a note but refused to help. She told us to go home.’

‘That didn’t put you off either.’

‘No. I sent her more letters. I begged her to see me. And I knew there must be other ways. Other people who could help. All along, I believed inside my heart that my mother was really alive.’ He touched his chest with his hand.

‘Then what? She agreed to see you?’

Robert’s head wobbled in a “yes and no” fashion.

‘She sent another note,’ he went on. ‘It said for us to go to her house. There was a date and time.’

‘Last Thursday?’ asked Kate.

He nodded again.

In the small pause I took a sip of water. ‘Why do you think she changed her mind?’

Robert shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think she knew from my letters that I was desperate.’ There was a sting in his eyes as he said it.

‘And you went to the house at the appointed time?’

I saw him look at his brother, his eyes downcast. Kip gave a slight shake of his head and looked away.

I pushed on. ‘What happened at the house, Robert?’

‘It was an accident,’ he said quietly. He paused to look at Kip again.

I looked too, and caught Kip’s eye. ‘Tell me about the accident?’

Kip grinned at me but said nothing.

His brother continued. ‘We went to her house around nine. We arrived early, but she didn’t answer the door. Then Kip saw her through the window. The door was open, so we went in. We didn’t mean to surprise her, but she was frightened. She wouldn’t talk to us, wouldn’t answer any questions. Kip tried to get her to talk. She … fainted.’

‘You mean he choked her?’

Kip stood up and gave me the big eyeball routine. Robert tugged him back into his seat.

I cast a sideways glance at Kate and realised our question-mark faces matched. Helen Porson was either mistaken about Cartwright being the perp, or she was showing desperate ambition trying to set him up. From what I was hearing, the “Dangerous Brothers” were now in the frame for both murders. Or “accidents” as they’re called in Nkongoville. It also meant Robert had found what he’d come for without knowing. Worse, he’d become an unwitting accessory to its passing. More importantly, Eddie G’s short but unstinting quest for justice was homeward bound. My fingers were itching to tap three nines. Ain’t that the home-run truth.

‘No,’ said Robert. ‘Kip only shook her to make her talk. She fainted. But she was still breathing.’ He drew a big sign across his chest. ‘I swear.’

‘And you just left?’ My voice croaked with the irony.

Robert shook his head. ‘We went for information. I couldn’t leave until we had something.’

‘You looked through her stuff?’

He nodded without any trace of apology. The stunts some people pull?