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Authors: Phil Redmond

Highbridge (32 page)

BOOK: Highbridge
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Luke acknowledged the point with a nod. ‘And that's something else I'm going to ask him. Go or No Go.'

‘And what happens if it's a No Go? If he can't live with it?'

Luke pondered for a moment. The same issue. Easy to say people should be shot. Different doing it. And different living with the trauma of feeling responsible. ‘Let's see what our man says first.'

That man was now walking down the High Street looking for Bobby McBain's controversial car parking scheme. Joey was curious and had time to kill while the guys at Glass & Shine removed the stench of Becky's stomach from the rear door side panel of the Q7. With a bit of luck they'd all get away with Natasha thinking he had had the car cleaned as a surprise.

It didn't take him long. He just followed a convoy of cars that turned off the High Street into Saddlers Street. As he rounded the corner he saw they were then turning into a wide open space, that once housed the junior school. On one corner was a small shed, outside which a young lad with a shock of red hair was collecting money. Joey walked over and asked the lad if he knew where Bobby was. A phone came out and within five minutes Bobby's Range Rover arrived.

‘You trying to scrounge another coffee, Nolan?' the gravel voice called as the driver's window slid down.

‘If you're buying.'

‘Get in.'

Another five minutes and they were walking into Costa. Again. And for once, Bobby had turned off his phone.

‘Politicians are like ex-wives, Joe,' Bobby said. ‘Never know what they want and when they get it they're never satisfied.'

‘What you on about now?'

‘You asked me about the car park. They carp on about wanting inward investment and businesses to invest in the community. When you do, they start harassing you.'

Joey laughed. ‘I don't think they had you squatting on their land in mind, Bob.'

‘Er, careful, Joe. It's not theirs. It's ours. The people's. That's what they don't get. And that carrot head manning the car park? Slung out of school because of his “antisocial” behaviour. His dad's inside. His mum's got something missing upstairs and he's number nine out of, er, twelve I think. That's conjugal visits for you. So no wonder he's anti-social, eh? But he's a brilliant lad. Hard worker. Because I give him what he wants. A bit of love and respect.'

‘So you're Uncle Bob, are you?'

‘I am more than the Council lot, but … That's all I wanted, you know. Bit of encouragement. Want to grab a seat? I'll sort out the order.'

Bobby then walked to the front of the queue to give the order to the young lad on the till. Joey looked round. Every seat seemed to be occupied. Until Bobby noticed him, still hovering. He walked over and gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment, which was immediately picked up by a group by the window and one near the toilets. Both stood up and offered Bobby their seats. He pointed Joey towards the window group then, with an appreciative wave, he went back to collect the coffees. Joey, slightly embarrassed, eased himself into the still warm chairs.

There was no such embarrassment from Bobby as he came back with napkins and cutlery. Still in full flow about the Council.

‘They're supposed to be there for us, aren't they. Not themselves.' The pebble-dash cracked again. ‘That's our job, isn't it. Looking out for us and ours.'

Joey gave a nod of agreement. He couldn't fault Bobby's logic.

‘Anyway,' Bobby continued. ‘They knocked down the junior school, right? Guffing out some tosh about falling school rolls while the population's actually increasing. How'd they get away with it, eh? But they did, and created that big open site. So, I moved a few lads in there and we charge a quid an hour or a fiver for all-day parking. And on market day. Coining it, mate. Coining it.'

‘Haven't they tried to move you off?'

‘Oh yeah.' The gravel laugh again. ‘They hate me. Hate me. I'm even worse than the travellers, aren't I? I'm never going to move on, am I? But in terms of investing in the community I may be trespassing, but I'm not asking for water and 'lecky, and I'm providing a much needed service: cheap parking and a little haven from the traffic wardens. Everyone wins.'

‘Except the Council.'

Bobby just gave a dismissive shrug. And then surprised Joey by adding, ‘Doing it for my own lad, actually.'

Bobby saw Joey's curious look. ‘Got a few legit things building up to pass on to him. That's why I sent him to Hazelhurst like your Sean's kids. Give him a better education than the one we didn't get.'

‘We learned a lot more on the streets,' Joey agreed. ‘And at night school.'

The gravelly laugh. ‘Didn't we just. But it wouldn't be so romantic in that park these days, having to step over dead smackheads.'

‘How'd it get to that stage, Bob?'

‘Life doesn't change, Joe. Just the illegal highs. In our day it was send someone into the offie to get the booze, and then back to the swings to split it up before coming down the cut and through the fence at the back. We learned a few things in those goalmouths, didn't we?'

We did indeed, Joey thought back, as the lad from the till brought the coffees over. Bobby gave him two £20 notes.

‘Keep a fiver and put the rest towards what they had,' he said as he nodded over to the previous window group now standing near the toilets finishing their drinks.

‘So now it's drugs instead of drink?' Joey asked as the lad left.

‘Both. It's never either–or, Joe. People want it all.' Abruptly Bobby switched tack. ‘They'll have to find a new playground, though. When they turn that old one into houses.'

‘Er, how's that go?'

‘Everyone knows what's going on. Council. Cops. They can't stop it. So they reckon that if they get rid of the playground there'd be one less place to hide.'

‘Just move the problem somewhere else?'

‘But it might stop my Max and your Alex discovering they've got a dead druggie in goal.'

‘When do you reckon that'll all happen?' Joey asked, completely surprised by the news.

‘Soon as the Council can fiddle the planning. The real reason they demolished the old junior school, and the reason they really hate me, is that it's right behind the playground. One big plot to sell off. And I'm the poison pill in the middle.'

‘How do you know all this stuff?' Joey asked. But didn't get an immediate response as one of the previous window group came over and thanked Bobby for covering their drinks. Joey smiled. Amazing. He walks in, throws them out of their seats and they end up thanking him. Did people respect or fear him? He remembered him always being in trouble. And saying that if they treated him like a gangster, then he was going to be the best Highbridge had ever seen. No doubts on that score.

‘Go on,' Joey continued. ‘I keep up with the local paper while I'm away. So how'd you know more?'

‘This stuff's never in the papers, Joe. Cops are a good source of stories and the Council's a big spender on ads. Why would the paper really want to upset them by asking awkward questions? Like why the Council is demolishing stuff so they can sell off the playground for houses? You should check it out. Someone will want a sparky if the house deal goes through.'

‘And will it? As you seem to know everything.'

Bobby just cracked the pebble-dash. ‘My business to know, Joseph. Talking of which. How's your girl's mate today? Sounded like a right slimeball trying to get in her drawers last night. Want us to give him a seeing to?'

Joey felt his back stiffen. A reminder. He was, after all, supping with the devil. And his daughter was going out with the devil's son. No matter what Joey wanted, the devil would protect what he thought was his own.

Joey just grinned and shook his head, no need. He also wanted to steer the conversation back to Bobby.

‘Anyway, did you talk to them beforehand?' Joey asked what he thought was a perfectly obvious question. ‘They might have let you do it?'

Bobby shook his head. ‘Trouble is, Joe, it's like being back in school. They never let you stand up, do they? Never let you get back on your feet. Always waiting to knock you down because of what they think you are.'

‘I remember,' Joey said, thinking back to the way he'd been treated differently to Sean. He was the swot. Joey was the scally.

‘I'm branded so can't change, even if I wanted to. So they won't even talk, never mind listen to me. Which is OK, because I can play them. Like the travellers. I'm forcing them to go through proper processes and all that bollocks. That'll drag on so long and get so heavy-handed that local support'll force them to let me keep the site. Or find me another one. That'll make it legit. The lad'll then have a car park business to keep going. Just have to keep one step ahead of the buggers. And, I don't know why I'm telling you all this.'

‘Because you're leading up to the real point?' Joey asked. ‘Rather than distracting me with some tosh about worrying about your kid's inheritance.'

He knew Bobby too well.

Matt was nearly right. It had taken only two hours to recover the Transit, travel to Leather's and set up three of the four cameras on the way back. At each location, Matt had jumped out the side door, rigged and positioned each camera, then set up a cheap but clean laptop on the way back with a 3G dongle. Like the cameras, it too was disposable. They had already placed the camera outside Leather's gates and two on the speed limit signs without any trouble. Apparently two council workmen rigging monitoring equipment. Hiding in plain sight. Invisible.

Unfortunately, when they got to the preferred location of the fourth, the lamppost next to the Welcome to Highbridge sign, they discovered real Council workmen. Not hiding. Actually in plain sight. The lamppost was undergoing routine maintenance. That was ninety minutes ago and there were only so many times they could drive past to see how things were going. The cloak of invisibility would only last so long. Especially since Billy had told them that their new cloned registration plates only had a life of six hours as the donor was in having an MOT.

‘Let's hide the van, then come back to this one,' he suggested to Luke, who then pointed the Transit in the direction of the swing bridge.

*

‘Fantastic. No. Saturday's great. Thank you. Please tell Craig how delighted we all are,' Sean said as he ended the call and allowed himself a smile. A more demonstrative gesture would have been to punch the air, or go into a semi-crouched position while thrusting his clenched fist forward. However, with young Ben and Deborah on the tills he felt the need to maintain a certain managerial decorum. Nevertheless, he was pleased.

‘He's still coming then,' Glynnis asked. She had been hovering while he was on the phone.

‘Yes, Glynnis,' Sean replied, his smile broadening. ‘Saturday morning to take a look round.'

‘Brilliant. I knew he would. Once his mum asked him,' Glynnis responded, a smile also spreading across her face. ‘Oh, it's exciting, isn't it?' This was aimed more at Ben and Deborah.

‘My mum will be excited,' was all Deborah said.

‘Can I tweet it yet, Mr Nolan?' It was Ben, the resident social networking expert.

‘Er … No, not yet, Ben,' Sean replied. ‘Let's wait until he confirms the real thing on Saturday.'

‘But you'd better have your thumbs on standby then,' cautioned Glyniss. Cos as soon as he walks in it'll be all over town. I'm telling you.'

Sean shared a knowing smile with Ben. Typical Glynnis – until she turned her attention to him.

‘And here's something that might wipe the smile off your face. Remember that 10 per cent discount you gave away to that druggie lot. Well, a couple of your councillor mates are coming in to use it later.'

Glynnis was right. The smile had disappeared, as she continued. ‘You know, the ones that are married and claiming two sets of expenses. They phoned up to ask if it applied to lunch as well.' Glynnis's distaste was obvious.

‘Oh, what did you tell them?'

‘I said, you're a man of your word. And if you're daft enough to offer it in the first place, then you'd be daft enough to give it on lunch as well.'

And with that she headed back to the café.

‘Can I tweet that, Mr Nolan?' Ben asked. ‘About the councillors coming in?'

‘No. I'm giving them enough without the publicity.' He tried to make it sound light. But he was already wondering how much it would cost him in the end.

‘Probably scare off people as well,' Deborah suddenly chipped in, before turning to help a woman unload her trolley.

But if they do come in, Sean thought as he headed for his office, at least I can tell them about the business with Noah. And ask what they are doing about it all. That should be worth 10 per cent.

‘There, that's it,' Bobby said, sitting back in his chair. ‘It's just a, what do they call it, a hypothetical.'

Joey knew it was more than that. If Bobby did, as he claimed, know everything that went on in town, then he was now fishing. The devil was after the detail. And the last thing Joey wanted to do was help him get it.

‘So, your plan—'

‘Hypothetical,' Bobby corrected.

‘Your idea is to round up a few of us and sort out the fat get in the chippy?'

Bobby nodded. Casually. ‘Like we used to.' But then it came. Casually again but as Joey knew, fishing. ‘Or would you use Carlton and his oppo for that?'

As he'd been expecting it, Joey was able to look surprised. ‘Go on, then. What's that mean?'

Bobby leaned forward in his seat. This was not for everyone's ears. ‘Just that they like a bit of aggro those boys, don't they. Sign up for it. Get used to it. Must be hard holding back when they know they could sort out stuff like this with a well-timed knock on the door in the middle of the night. Bag over the head. Off the viaduct and into the river. Who'd know?'

BOOK: Highbridge
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