Fire in the Blood (8 page)

Chapter 13

Ten minutes later Annie returned to the car smiling smugly and, thankfully, free of oily paw marks. ‘Job done boss, the address of the love shack is 219 Henry Street, top flat left, the red door with a big knocker. You won’t be surprised to learn that he’s a fan of big knockers, judging by the number of nudie posters plastered all over the garage walls.’

Reluctantly acknowledging Annie’s success, Jack smirked and said, ‘Okay then Annie, I’m officially impressed. So how did you do manage to, ahem, pull it off?’

A further fierce scowl from Annie elicited yet another swift apology, ‘Sorry.’

‘Well using the previously mentioned womanly wiles and a touch of the improvisation you talked about yesterday, I talked him out of his first idea, which was the kind offer of a quick and dirty shag bent over the bonnet of a rusty old Vauxhall Vectra. I said to him, “Please, a girl does have her standards. Now if it was a shiny red Ferrari, well … you know, that might be different.”’

Fidgeting with his shirt collar, Jack urged, ‘Okay, just get on with it. I’m starting to feel queasy.’

‘Anyway, I tell him that I’m on early shift at work for the next two weeks and, depending on where he stays, I’d be really grateful if I could just drop the car off at his place and then pick it up from there later on. So when he tells me his address, I say, ‘Great that works, I’m only a mile away. We fix up a day and time, then we shake hands. Job done. Of course he holds on, gives me his best smouldering look and says, “Don’t worry too much about the bill
,
babe. I’m sure we’ll be able to work
something
out.”’

Wiping his brow with a handkerchief, Jack held up both hands in mock surrender. ‘Enough with the details. I’ll show you how to do the invoice, then you can phone the client later and wrap this one up. Good job Annie, I think it’s time for a bit of music to celebrate.’

As Jack prepares to slip yet another homemade compilation tape into the dashboard player, Annie rolled her eyes in horror and enquired tentatively, ‘Boss, can I ask you something? You won’t be offended?’

‘As long as you don’t want a raise, fire away kiddo.’

Seriously cheesed off with the relentless country music soundtrack in the car, Annie hopefully asked, ‘Do you ever, like, listen to any
new
music?’

‘
Absolutely
,’ replied Jack, indignantly. ‘I bought the new Hank Williams album just last week.’

‘But hey, wait a minute. Didn’t you tell me that he’s been
dead
for about a zillion years?’

‘That’s right, Hank Williams Senior was called to the big roundup in the sky, way back in 1953. He was only twenty-nine when he died of heart failure and hard living. But the
good
news is that his music lives on and his son, Hank Junior, is still going strong.’

Annie was horrified by the news and blurted out
,
‘You mean there’s
two
of them? Come on, no way. That’s
too
much. One’s bad enough, but
two
. It’s like having two noses, or three tits … it just doesn’t work. It’s one
too
many.’

‘That’s bollocks Annie, if you’re a true country music fan you can’t have too many Hanks.’

Innocently, Annie replied
,
‘Well, you know what they say, boss. Too many Hanks and you’ll start growing hair on the palms of your hands
and
you’ll go deaf.’

Playing along with her tirade, Jack first checked his hands and then feigned deafness. ‘Eh, pardon? So, reading between the lines here, Ms James, do I detect a slight undercurrent of discontent, with the standard of the on-board entertainment?’

Annie was placatory, struggling to get her point across without being too insulting.
‘Look boss,

I
do
like a
little
bit of country music, honestly I do. People like Patsy Cline, Van Morrison and Johnny Cash can be
almost
cool, but only once in a blue moon. Like if I was pissed off, sitting alone in a crowded bar near closing time, waiting for someone who I know in my heart isn’t going to turn up … well okay, bring on a bit of country music and I’ll cry into my beer with the best of them. But I really don’t want to listen to it
every
time we get into the effing car. I haven’t checked with a lawyer, but I think it probably contravenes my human rights.’

Seemingly immune to criticism, Jack sort of apologised.
‘I’m sorry, Annie, you should have said something sooner. I wasn’t aware that I’ve been torturing you. Okay then, absolutely
no
problem. Tomorrow I’ll bring along some of my brand new Showaddywaddy
tapes. They’re
really
good.’

Annie shook her head and sighed in resignation. ‘You’re not listening, boss. You’ve never
once
asked me what kind of music I like.’

Chapter 14

Jack and Annie were parked outside the busy Greenbank Sports Centre, the five-a-side venue where Frankie Ross’s football team was due to play their next lunch time league game. They began examining a case full of photographic equipment, which was stored in Senga’s boot.

Annie, who was much more used to taking pictures with her smartphone than with conventional cameras enquired, ‘So how do you make sure we get the best pictures?’

‘Okay, I think the video camera is probably the best one for you because, after it’s switched on, it’s basically just point and shoot. You press the red record button when you want to start and what you see on the little screen is recorded onto the internal SD memory card. So play around with it for five minutes and, if you’re happy, then go round to the outside pitches so you’re ready for the teams coming out. I’ll take the stills camera with the telephoto lens up on the hill on the other side, so we have the action covered from different angles.’

A few minutes later, Annie confirmed that she was good to go with the video camera and announced, ‘Right, I’ve checked that the battery’s good and there
is
a blank SD card inside, so I think I’m ready.’

A final instruction was given by Jack. ‘Okay then, try to be discreet and remember to keep your phone handy, just in case.’

They were both in position as Frankie and his team mates jogged out on in bright sunshine onto the Astroturf pitch and started to limber up. Using his mobile, Jack asked, ‘Do you see him, Annie? He’s the brick shithouse with the shaved head. The sneaky bugger must have had a wig on earlier.’

‘He’d be hard to miss, boss. I think I’ll need to move back a bit to get all of him in the frame.’

As the match kicked off they both began taking pictures of general play featuring their target and later, near the end of the second half, Frankie scored what proved to be the winning goal with a thunderous left foot volley and then executed a spectacular forward somersault in celebration, just like the top pros on Match of the Day. Then standing with arms raised, the man of the match received the acclaim of his team mates.

Elated at the prospect of the fraudster being brought to book, with the help of her video evidence, Annie punched the air with excitement and exclaimed, ‘Gotcha, Frankie!’

As she turned away and anxiously previewed the recorded video footage, to make sure she had captured the action, Annie was startled to hear a gruff voice directly behind her. She turned to confront a suspicious, red-faced Frankie Ross, whose body was pressed hard against the other side of the chain link fence enclosing the pitch, almost within touching distance of her.

‘Hey
you …
yeah you. What’s the
fucking
story with the camera?’

Definitely caught unawares, Annie babbled, ‘Er, my boyfriend’s playing later, and he asked me to video his game. So I’m just, you know, like practicing with his camera. Hey, that was a
great
goal by the way.’

Frankie
s
tared at Annie for what seemed like a very long time, then growled, ‘The game’s nearly finished, why don’t you stick around and let me buy you a coffee and I can check out my goal.’

Trying to be friendly and casual, Annie smiled and replied, ‘Yeah sure, no problem. I’ll be inside, you know, at the café.’

As Frankie turned away Annie’s mobile phone rang.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Jack anxiously, having seen Frankie run across the pitch in Annie’s direction.

‘Well there’s good news and bad news, boss. I’ve got some
fantastic
video of him scoring the goal and
then
the somersault. That’s all good, but unfortunately he spotted me filming with the camera and he seems
very
keen to have a chat and check out the replay. I think he also heard me shouting out his real name. Sorry.’

‘Oh shit, it can’t be helped. Anyway I’ve got some decent pictures as well, so he’s toast. Let’s just wrap things up, Annie. I’ll see you back at the car ASAP.’

Annie then made her way as casually as possible towards the car park, observed by an increasingly agitated looking Frankie.

Back at the car, with the camera gear stored away safely in the boot, master and apprentice exchanged high fives and celebrated the successful completion of their assignment.

‘Okay, job well done Annie, let’s get the hell out of here.’

Annie started the car and moved off, before glancing nervously in the rear view mirror. ‘Boss, you know how you said before that you don’t
do
car chases.’

Jack was relaxed and dismissive, ‘Yeah all that crazy stuff’s just for the television, to make it more exciting. It never happens in real life. Why do you ask?’

‘You better take a look behind us.’

Jack quickly turned round to see Frankie’s people carrier bearing down on them at high speed with headlights flashing and horn blaring.

Annie nervously enquired, ‘Do you think he’s alone?’

‘No, it looks like he’s got the whole team with him.’

‘Oh my God …
now
what do we do?’

‘Well in situations like this,’ Jack said casually, ‘The essential thing is to keep calm and not panic straight away, just because things are looking a bit iffy. You see, keeping calm gives you a real edge. So just ignore them. Believe me, it’s all bluff. He won’t do anything.’

Their car was then rammed violently from behind by Frankie’s people carrier.

‘Fucking hell’s bells,’ exclaimed Jack.

‘I assume that it’s okay for me to panic
now
?’ squealed Annie.

‘Yeah, now would be good.’

Bang. Another violent shunt from the rear.

Red-faced and angry, Jack hissed, ‘Poor old Senga can’t take any more of this. Okay, that’s it … stop the car.’

Annie pleaded, ‘But there’s five of them, boss. What can
you
do? You’ll get yourself killed and I won’t
ever
get paid.’

Tight-lipped and determined Jack insisted, ‘I said stop the car right now, Annie. You stay inside. Lock all the doors and call the police.’

Annie reluctantly pulled up and Jack jumped out, slammed the passenger door and walked purposefully back towards the people carrier. Frankie had also exited clutching a baseball bat, followed by his curious team mates, who hung back slightly.

Shaking his head, apparently Mr Cool, Jack walked straight up to Frankie, who towered above him, and said, ‘That was a really stupid move Frankie. Senga is
so
not happy.’

Still wearing his football kit, a sweating bug-eyed Frankie brandished the baseball bat in Jack’s face and growled, ‘I want you to delete the pictures that the skinny blonde cow took. Right
now
.’

Apparently unsure what exactly was going down, Frankie’s team mates moved slightly closer and began to mutter to each other, ‘Hey, wait a minute, who’s
Frankie?
’

‘Yeah, and who’s
Senga?
’

The team captain stepped forward to try and restore order and clarify matters.
‘Hey, what the fuck’s going on here, Joe? What’s the big deal with the girl videoing the game anyway? For all we know this guy might be a scout for some big team, or maybe they just want to put a clip of your goal up on YouTube. Either way …
so
what?
I’d quite like to see it again myself.’

Realising he was in danger of losing the backing of his team, Frankie bent forward, right in Jack’s face, to menacingly hiss, ‘You heard me, auld man, gie me that fucking camera, or
you’ll
be getting the same treatment as your shitey auld car.’

Unflinching, Jack replied, ‘That’s just not going to happen, Frankie. The game’s up son.’ Then out of the corner of his eye he became aware that Annie had left the safety of the car and now had his back, standing to one side and slightly behind him, with her game face on and clearly ready to rumble. As he half-turned and motioned for her to keep back, Frankie took advantage of Jack’s momentary distraction and took a wild swing at him with the baseball bat. Jack ducked smartly, then stepped in close and delivered a short, powerful right jab to the bigger man’s groin, which instantly dropped Frankie to the ground in a sorry crumpled heap.

Rolling from side to side in obvious agony, with hands clasped tightly between his legs, Frankie hissed through clenched teeth, ‘
Oooooh
, ma fuckin
baws.
That wis a
durty
low punch, ya auld
shite
.’

Jack smiled sweetly and said, ‘Yes it
was
, wasn’t it? And not so much of the
auld
, okay? Oh and by the way, you’re due an apology to my colleague here for your earlier foul and abusive language, which is a clear yellow card offence. And since I don’t have a yellow card with me,
this
will have to do.’ He then picked up the baseball bat and, after taking a full backswing, thrashed Frankie across the backside with it.

‘
Oooouch
… ya
bastard
, get away tae
fuck
,’ wailed Frankie.

Handing the baseball bat to Annie, Jack smiled once more and said, ‘Dissent by players is completely spoiling football these days, don’t you think? Okay then, Annie,
your
turn.’

Annie declined the offered baseball bat, opting instead for the guilty pleasure which can only be satisfied when the toe cap of a Doc Marten boot connects directly with the arse of a stricken thug. She then added to Frankie, ‘And not so much of the
skinny
either, okay
dickhead?
’

Now a completely broken man, Frankie sobbed, ‘Okay then, hen, fuckin
okay
. Ah’m
really
sorry.’

Jack then made a show of slowly cracking his knuckles, as he turned and addressed Frankie’s team mates, who were standing around open-mouthed. ‘Okay guys, the show’s over, now listen up. I’m pretty sure none of you know what your naughty big pal here, real name Frankie Ross, has been up to. I can’t go into all the details right now, but let’s just say he’s probably going to be unavailable for selection for a while and you should maybe start looking for a new centre- forward. So, I suggest you just let this go, okay? Are we good on this?’

With the tension easing as Frankie’s team mates took in what had just happened, their captain replied, ‘Fair enough then, pal. I mean, like, none of us really know anything about him anyway. He just comes along, plays the games and usually heads off right away when we’re finished. He said his name was Joe and that’s about all I can tell you. Aye, he’s sometimes a bit mad on the pitch, right enough, but he can certainly play. I mean, we just jumped into the car with him because he said you guys had stolen his wallet from the changing rooms.’

‘Yeah well, don’t worry about it,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll probably see the full story in the papers in a few months. Best take him inside now guys. Give him a cuddle and see if you can find a big bag of ice for his Denis Laws.’

As Annie drove slowly away from the sports centre, dragging a section of rear bumper along the road, she was still buzzing with a mixture of adrenaline and relief that the confrontation was over, with only Senga and Frankie Ross having sustained any significant damage. She was impressed and secretly proud of her employer. ‘That was a
fantastic
punch boss. You hardly seemed to put any effort into it, but he went down like Mike Tyson had banjoed him. I didn’t know you were some kind of martial arts expert.’

‘Well my hands
are
registered as lethal weapons,’ said Jack modestly. ‘But only with Anne Summers. Mainly I put it down to clean living and early nights. Oh, and
this
might have had something to do with it.’ He then produced a heavy brass knuckleduster from inside his jacket pocket and said,
‘It was my leaving present from my team, when I finished up with the polis. Much more useful than a carriage clock or golf clubs. Although, to be fair, I only ever use it these days as a last
resort. Like if some dopey old bag in the quick queue at the supermarket checkout has more than ten items in her basket. That’s
so
annoying, don’t you think?’

Reflecting that, if her recent interview at JD Investigations had resulted in a different outcome, she would probably now be sitting isolated and miserable in a call centre somewhere, Annie laughed out loud and exclaimed, ‘I just
love
my job.’