Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 (27 page)

Tommy lifted his chin and smiled.

A glance out of the window told me we were still on the main road by the river. It wouldn’t be long, I reckoned, until showtime. Until then, I’d have to think of a new party trick.

‘As I was saying,’ said Jimmy, ‘every day must be like a new day for you, Eddie. Like you keep forgetting what happened the day before. Like my friendly warnings never happened.’

‘Friendly?’

Jimmy looked across at Tommy and winked. ‘He’s doin’ it again. You gotta love this kid.’

Tommy appeared unmoved.

I angled my thumb at him. ‘Not sure you convinced the big fella.’

‘You say that, but he’ll miss you when you’re gone.’ Jimmy chuckled. ‘Won’t ya, Tom?’

An inevitable shrug was Tommy’s only response.

As Jimmy went back to looking at the scenery, Tommy took a piece of paper from his bomber jacket and passed it to his fellow heavy in the front passenger seat. I recognised the guy as one of the minders from the casino. He was shorter and slighter than Tommy, but he obviously worked out. The driver looked like he’d never lost a fight, either.

‘Your go, Keith,’ said Tommy.

Keith studied the piece of paper and then smiled to himself. He took out a pen and scribbled something down. I didn’t want to guess what was on the scrap of paper, but if it was a shopping list, it wasn’t a long one.

Although I’d been presumed guilty without charge, I realised that Jimmy hadn’t actually given a reason for my latest abduction. Whichever way the wind was gusting, I needed to find out.

‘It’s been great chatting, Jimmy, as always,’ I said, spearing the silence, ‘but I’m really tight for time. Whatever you’ve picked me up for – and I can’t think what that might be – can we do it another day?’

Jimmy smiled. ‘Sorry. This won’t wait, no matter how much you distract me.’ He pulled his suit lapels together. ‘As boring as this is for you, it’s more fuckin’ boring for me. That’s why I’m trying a metaphorical approach.’

‘The hippo thing?’

‘Exactly.’

I pinged my fingernail against my forehead. ‘Hey, I just remembered what you said. I must be cured.’

‘Nice try,’ said Jimmy, ‘but no Monte Cristo. It must be selective memory with you.’ He edged sideways on the seat. ‘Let me recap. I keep telling you to stay the fuck out of my business. You keep forgetting what the fuck I tell you. So we reach a point when I have to break the cycle.’

‘And that point’s now?’

‘Give or take ten minutes.’

I sighed. ‘But it’s all old news, Jimmy. Since last night, what have I done? Nothing. I’ve been out of town all day. What can I have done?’

Jimmy looked right through me. ‘You want a list?’

‘Jimmy, seriously, what’ve I done?’

‘Don’t shit me,’ he said, sneering. ‘I know when dust moves in this town. Sightings of a gormless fuck like you come easy.’

‘Come on, Jimmy, one “gommo” in this town looks much like another.’

‘You were seen in the Mayflower.’

I lifted my shoulders. ‘It’s Sunday. I’m drinking beer. Shoot me.’

‘It’s nowhere near your manor.’

‘He keeps a good cellar, though, Mike.’

‘It’s a fuckin’ dump. And it’s Stuart.’

‘I’m thinking of his brother, obviously.’

‘You were arguing with two black guys.’

‘Now that, I can explain–’

‘Save it,’ said Jimmy, ‘I’ve got more.’ He held up a finger. ‘I’m told some solicitor piece has been in to see Hobbs. Next thing, cops are spilling out like ants.’

‘So if I’m hearing right, we have solicitors talking to police officers in police stations? Is that it? Whatever next?’ I raised my palms. ‘Not particularly unusual, Jimmy, trust me. I take it you have seen
The Bill
?’ I kept my face straighter than a straight mile.

‘This one claims to represent you, Eddie. How about that?’

‘Gotta be a hoax. I mean come on. Me? With a solicitor? As if. It’s just some
crazy
looking for headlines. Some deluded chick.’

‘Did I say it was female?’

‘You certainly inferred it was female.’

‘We digress.’ He waved his hand at an imaginary audience. ‘The important thing is, I’m not stupid, Eddie, which is something else you keep forgetting.’

‘There you go with the inferring again.’

‘Be that as it may, time’s up.’

‘Up?’

‘For you.’

‘Do I get an appeal?’

‘You’ve had enough warnings for ten men,’ said Jimmy. ‘It was fun at first. But you don’t seem to know when to stop. I have to get serious.’

The car banked left off the roundabout. I saw the mill’s old chimney imposing itself over the other buildings, and I stared up at the tall, brick stack, willing it to collapse on Tommy’s head. Where the hell was Fred Dibner when you needed him?

 After a pause, I said, ‘Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way. You can drop me here.’ I motioned at a lay-by ahead.

Jimmy let go another of his throaty laughs. ‘There’s only one place I’m dropping you.’

Tommy didn’t laugh out loud, but his huge smile and heaving shoulders told me he was laughing on the inside. Wherever this place was, it was clearly a funny place. Funny or not, I was suddenly in no hurry to get there. But it seemed certain that Jimmy’s choo choo wouldn’t be stopping at any stations. It was a one-way ticket on a runaway train. Story of my life.

A few minutes later we pulled off the main road onto a narrow track that led to the old mill. The car’s suspension groaned as we smashed through potholes at high speed. Racing past the tree canopy that lined both sides of the track, we went from sunlight to shade as the Range Rover swung into a courtyard in front of the once grand mill. The whole building was framed by the orange glow of the setting sun. Any other time I might have enjoyed the view.

As I looked up at the rows and rows of vandalised windows, I wondered what Jimmy had in mind. It dawned on me that he meant it this time, and I wouldn’t have long to form an escape committee.

We drove to the far end of the mill. As we neared the end of the courtyard, Tommy tapped the driver on the shoulder.

‘Here’ll do, Mickey.’

The car pulled up, and Mickey switched off the ignition. I could hear the whirr of the turbo fan and the tipping and tapping of the engine as it cooled. Tommy grabbed my collar, but I twisted my neck away to show the fight wasn’t done. It made no difference as he just tugged harder. So what did it prove? I could no longer tell courage from desperation.

Jimmy turned to face me. ‘Ready?’

I stared straight ahead. ‘Ready, steady, go, Jimmy. Ready, steady, go.’

‘Good.’ He glanced over at Tommy, and they both smiled.

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sunday – 17:53

The broken bridge at the back of the mill is known locally as “Weighton Pier”, but the joke isn’t on Wigan’s excuse for a seaside attraction. Its name came from the saying about taking a long walk off a short pier. Apart from “jumpers”, no one used Mill Bridge anymore. But Old Weightonians knew all about its dark history. Jerry-built for workers coming across from the other side of the river, its third stanchion had been swept away in a storm and never rebuilt. So much for the swinging eighteen-sixties. Suicide jockeys loved it, though. If the fall didn’t kill them, the fast flowing ride over a downstream weir certainly would.

Having clambered up steel steps, we all walked out onto the bridge. I was arm in arm with Tommy and Mickey, while Jimmy and Keith were a few paces back, bringing up the rear. It was a toss-up who’d get the first dance.

I had to hand it to Jimmy. He was living up to his self-styled mantle as Weighton’s premier enforcer. Behind me, I could hear the echo slap of his footsteps on the thick timbers and wondered what was going through his crackpot brain. He’d obviously thought the whole stunt through, and the note passing in the car was all part of the choreography. But with me stuck in the embraces of the Chuckle Brothers, my chances of escape were slight. The only option was to distract Jimmy. But how?

‘Jimmy, you do know they haven’t finished this bridge yet?’ I angled my voice into the air above me.

‘All part of the plan.’

‘You lettin’ me in on it?’

‘Don’t you like surprises?’

‘Not ones that involve gunfire, no.’

He laughed. ‘You worry too much.’

I turned my head slightly from side to side, desperate to spot anything that might hint at salvation. Nothing stood out. ‘No need for me to worry, then?’

‘Not as long as you can swim.’

I couldn’t stop a nervous glimpse at the river below. ‘Like a torpedo.’

‘Good. It’ll come in handy if you survive the drop.’

Either side of me, Tommy and Mickey indulged in a noisy laugh, rolling their respective shoulders. It was a good time to test for resolve, but the knuckleheads didn’t loosen their grip.

‘Got it all figured out then, Jimmy?’

‘Yeah, it’s what I do. Devil’s in the detail.’

A few more strides and we’d be at the end of the shortened bridge. The sound of thrashing water seemed ever louder in my ears.

‘You comin’ with us all the way? Only, I’m no good at goodbyes.’

‘Me neither,’ said Jimmy. ‘But it gets easier with practice. Anyway, I wouldn’t miss this one.’

As we reached the iron railings that marked the endpoint, Mickey let go of my arm and Tommy swung me around. He grabbed my upper arm with one hand and my jacket collar with the other. It felt like I was fastened to eternity. And eternity didn’t smell too fresh.

Jimmy looked on, smiling serenely. ‘What can I say? It’s been good times and bad times. And now it’s time-out.’

‘Your speechwriter been working overtime again?’

‘That’s what I like about you, Eddie. Most of the lowlife I know would be shouting, screaming, and crying by now. Still, all in due course, I suppose.’

I opened out my shoulders. ‘Newsflash for you, Jimmy. I’m not scared anymore. Tell you the truth, I don’t give a shit. Do what you want.’ My bravado made up for the lack of a decent flight plan. And I wanted to unnerve him anyway I could.

‘Well, enough chat.’ Jimmy nodded at Tommy.

‘One thing,’ I said, holding up my free hand.

Jimmy looked at me, expressionless.

‘Tell me about my Dad?’

‘That again. It’s eating at you.’

‘Well?’

‘I’m no good with history. But I do see the future.’

‘I’m guessing it’s not bright?’

He gave a sly nod. ‘I see a journey. A short journey. And when you reach your destination – you can ask him yourself.’ He winked at me and then wheeled around to address his crew. ‘Positions for take-off.’