GBH (23 page)

“He will do what he can.”

“Which is fuck all.”

James had cooled down slightly; this time he only sipped at his brandy.

“And as you mention them,” he said, “what do you think they intend to do? Lock the doors at the Steering Wheel and hope you didn’t pick up Johnny’s key?”

“I’ve done them a favour. Their best-laid plans were fucked up, thanks to their terrible brother. He was a liability, and now he’s proved it. I’ve done them a favour.”

“And supposing they don’t think you’re intending to stop at Johnny?”

“I’ll tell them,” I said. “When I go round and see them.”

“When you what?”

“When I go round. To thank them for putting me on to Mickey. Without their help I’d never have known, would I?”

James took the rest of his brandy at one go. I raised my glass.

“To absent friends,” I said. “The cock-sucking bastard.”

THE SEA

S
HE STANDS UP AND
I stand up and pick up my jacket and she watches me and says, “What are you doing?”

“Putting my jacket on.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cold out.”

“I don’t want you to drive me home,” she says.

“What?”

“I want to walk home along the beach.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a nice night and I like walking along the beach.”

I put my jacket back on the chair.

“I could have you back in five minutes,” I say.

“I know.”

“Whereabouts exactly is it you live?”

“In Mablethorpe,” she says, giving me the smile.

“Well, I’ll show you out.”

“You’d better. You’ve got more locks than the Bank of England.”

“That’s because I’ve got more money than they have.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“I don’t suppose much would,” I say, as we walk out into the hall and towards the front door.

“Not any more, no,” she says.

I unbolt and unlock the front door and open it for her.

“Are you?” she says.

“Am I what?”

“Surprised. At the way the evening turned out?”

“I’m neither surprised nor not surprised.”

“Wasn’t quite what you expected, though, was it?”

“I didn’t expect anything. If showing out and holding back turns you on, well, everyone to their own.”

“That’s what I always say,” she says. “Now I’ve gone you’ll be able to run a few movies, all by yourself. Look out for me, won’t you? You’ll recognise me by the wig, if by nothing else. Good night.”

THE SMOKE

I
PHONED THE
S
TEERING
Wheel before I went round.

When I got there, there were only Charlie and Walter waiting for me.

I sat down opposite them, only this time I wasn’t given a drink.

“Do you want to know what happened?” I said.

“You think we don’t know?” Charlie said.

“I think you ought to know the details,” I said.

“You fucking chancer, you—” Charlie began, but Walter halted him.

“Listen to him,” Walter said. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

“You what?”

“Just shut up,” Walter said.

“First of all, it was through Johnny that I found out about what was going down; so you’ve only got yourselves to blame.”

“Like what was going down?” Charlie said.

“Leave it out,” Walter said. “Just listen to what he’s got to say.”

“So,” I said, “like I said, it was through Johnny I found out.”

“And you topped him, just for that,” said Walter. “Just because one of your blokes—”

“I didn’t top him.”

“You what?”

“Mickey did.”

“Same thing, isn’t it?”

“You’re not understanding me,” I said. “I said Mickey topped him.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, off his own bat.”

“Why should he want to do a thing like that?” said Charlie.

I shook my head in despair of them.

“Mickey finds out what Johnny’d been saying,” I said. “Right? He didn’t know I’d found out. So he didn’t want me to hear, so he arranged to meet Johnny and he topped him. So I wouldn’t.”

“You’re barmy,” said Charlie.

“Listen,” said Walter to his brother. Charlie listened.

“But I found out. I followed Mickey. By the time he’d got there he’d seen off Johnny.”

“So who saw off Mickey?” said Charlie. “Johnny?”

“Who do you think?”

There was a silence.

“You?”

“You’ve got it in one.”

“You knocked off Mickey?” Charlie said. “For—”

“Shut up,” said Walter.

“You’re saying you topped Mickey for topping Johnny, for what he did?” Walter said.

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t have maybe topped Johnny myself, if I’d seen him first. But I thought I’d let you know, Johnny brought it on himself. Once Mickey got wind, that was it.”

A silence.

“So,” I said, “I came to tell you how things happened, before you started getting steamed up over something you started and finished yourselves.”

Another silence. Then Walter said, “You’re saying you topped Mickey. Because of what he found out?”

“Of course.”

Walter took his cigarettes out and lit one up and then watched me.

“You couldn’t stand it, could you?” he said. “Not even your best man.”

“Could you?”

“You couldn’t live with it, could you? Him knowing. So you topped him.”

“Knowing?” I said.

“What was going down.”

“Of course not. Seeing as how—”

“Hang about,” said Charlie. “I’m not with this.”

“I am,” said Walter. “He’s barmy. But that’s beside the point.”

“What is the point, Walter?” I said.

“The point is,” said Walter, “as far as Johnny’s concerned, that’s still down to you, however you choose to write your memoirs.”

“Too right,” said Charlie. “Too fucking right.”

I was quiet for a moment.

“All right,” I said. “But you’re madmen. To start all over.”

“Not quite as fucking barmy as you are, Fowler,” Walter said.

“So I’ll be hearing from you?” I said.

“What do you think?”

“Let’s get it done now, Walter,” Charlie said.

“No,” said Walter. “I want time to think. Let me count the ways.”

“Apart from the fact you haven’t the bottle, just the two of you,” I said.

“We’ll wait,” said Walter. “There’s plenty of time. There’s plenty of things to remember.”

THE SEA

I
LOCK AND BOLT
the door behind her and go back into the lounge and pour myself another drink.

It’s possible. Think.

It would certainly explain a lot. Why I thought I’d seen her before, why I’d transferred my memory to the girl from Grimsby who’d looked so much like her, instead of pointing it towards the real source, a half-remembered face from a blue movie.

It’s possible. But is it probable? Consider.

It certainly wouldn’t be too coincidental; to the average man, who maybe sees about half a dozen during his whole life, sure. But the odds on coincidence, being in the business I’m in, are much shorter. I’ve seen thousands. So there, coincidence is probable.

But the coincidence of her being here, where I am. That is where coincidence begins to be improbable.

Removing the coincidental aspect here, the probability is that she knows who I am.

She knows that I am George Fowler. And she has been in a blue movie. Probability again: one of mine. I’ve seen more of my own than I have of the competition’s. Thus the vague memory.

So she’s been in one of my movies. And she knows I am George Fowler.

Of course, she wouldn’t have known at the time. She
wouldn’t have got within a hundred people of knowing who I was then, the way I had everything structured.

But now, the probability is that she does. The probability is that she knows I am George Fowler, and who George Fowler is.

How?

Not even James knew I was here. Not even the number. I never even phoned him from here.

How?

And why?

The probabilities of why are easier to evaluate.

She’s been sent. Or she’s working for herself.

If she’d been sent, whoever by, I would no longer be here, in one way or another. They wouldn’t risk this kind of cat and mouse.

So she’s working for herself. And to her, the cat-and-mouse game doesn’t seem so much of a risk. She’s even dropped a hint to point me in the direction of the Blues. That’s why she came. And left at that point, to leave me to consider.

Consider what? Her reasons, her connection?

Her reasons.

In her position, a lot of very very good reasons, hundreds and thousands of them, all signed by the chief cashier of the Bank of England. Because she knows who I am, and she knows enough of what happened in the Smoke to appreciate the value of knowing where I am.

Which would put her in a position of risk from me. Which doesn’t seem to worry her one little bit.

Because I don’t know where she lives.

Because she’ll now have the unlisted telephone number of this place.

And the next thing I will get is the phone call and the proposition and I will probably never see her again.

Certainly never see her again.

Only hear from her, if she’s greedy.

No wonder she didn’t mind signing with Eddie and his Barren Knights.

Eddie?

The How.

Eddie.

Think about that.

Probable. The probability here being that he’s not as pig-thick as he appears.

The probability being that they were closer than they appeared to be.

Much closer.

Eddie had mentioned, hadn’t he, that he believed she’d been down the coast last season, at Skegness.

Believed.

Met her.

Met her and got together with her. No secrets. She’d tell him about the Blues.

Then what happened in London happened. The press. After a while I reappeared here.

Eddie had known me from before. When I’d been up here, other times.

This time, when I’d reappeared, he’d clocked.

And they’d talked.

And the result, this.

Eddie?

The How?

Probable?

Probable.

Proof positive lay beneath me, on racks, in the basement.

Where I never went.

Where I’d never been, since Jean. Because the temptation was too great.

Because she was down there, waiting for me to give her life.

THE SMOKE

“D
ID THEY BELIEVE YOUR
story?” Jean said. “About Mickey killing Johnny and you killing him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will it make any difference? If they believe it?”

“It might. They know it was all their own fault in the first place. It might cool them off for a bit.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“They won’t do anything yet anyway. Because of Johnny, Parsons’ll be looking in their direction as well. In time, they will, sure. But it was for now I wanted to calm them down, while Parsons is sniffing about. And later on, we’ll have had a bit more time to review the position. Entrench, as they say.”

“With Collins gone? And no Mickey?”

I poured myself a drink.

“We’re well rid of them.”

“We’ve got to replace them.”

“Of course; that’s why I wanted a little time before the Sheps figure out what stroke they’re going to pull next. We’ve got to have a look at the available material.”

I sat down and Jean came and sat next to me.

“Whatever we do,” she said, “you’ll have to be careful. They’ll never let up because of Johnny. I know it.”

“Yes,” I said. “I know it, too.”

We were silent for a while.

“Incidentally,” I said.

“What?”

I slid my arm round her shoulders.

“How did it feel?”

“How did what feel?”

She slid towards me, very close.

“You know what I mean,” I said.

She was quiet. Her hand began to stroke my thigh.

“You know,” I said. “When you shot Mickey.”

THE SEA

I
WAIT TILL DAYLIGHT
.

There’s no way I’m going down there in the dark. So I think my way through to the Sunday dawn. Eddie. And the girl. With her, he could be the star he felt he ought to be. With her, and with my money. Some of which I’d already donated to him, to keep him on the road. Nice one, Eddie.

But watch the girl, Eddie. Stardom for you may not tie in with her astrological chart. Keep the ejector seat on safety, Eddie. In this particular case, you can’t use breach of contract, can you?

If I’m right.

The dawn comes, and with it the cold, and the sky slowly lightens.

I put another log on the fire and get out of my chair and pour myself another drink.

Irony, I think to myself. Everything is irony.

I mean, I was going to spring this place on Jean. Before everything had gone wrong. As a present, as a surprise.

That was why everything was down there on racks. Everything we’d ever made together, every video, every movie, plus prints of almost every Blue I’d ever had in circulation. For our entertainment, for her surprise. Cross-referenced and neatly stacked. It made the equivalent layout at The Yard look a little bit thin.

And of course there was stuff down there that was not strictly for pleasure. The stuff I’d had to grab and run with when I’d left London. Most of the administrative stuff, the records. Just leaving enough essential copies with James to continue with the aspects of the business he was capable of running. As well as the money. A lot of the money was down there, too. Enough to last me until I became of pensionable age, at least.

And that was the last time I’d been down there, to deposit the stuff. After that I’d shot the bolts and locked the padlock and put the key in my pocket and never taken it out again.

I feel in my pocket. The key feels as cold as the sky beyond the plate glass.

THE SMOKE

“F
IRST OF ALL YOU
’
D
have to prove he worked for me,” I said to Parsons. “If you like you can look at the files. I don’t think you’ll find a P45, do you?”

Parsons didn’t say anything.