Reach for Tomorrow (46 page)
Alec let his breath out between his blackened teeth in a slow hiss. ‘If this goes wrong an’ the Gallaghers get involved--’
‘It won’t go wrong, Alec, I promise. If some of the stuff Shane is dealing in could be used against him I’d say that was poetic justice, wouldn’t you? And you know the type of man he is, you’d be doing the world a favour.’
‘An’ you think I could get somethin’, is that it?’
‘Alec, I think you could get the crown jewels if you wanted to.’
When Rosie saw the slow smile on his face she knew she was winning, and his voice reflected this when he said, ‘A bit of butterin’ up works wonders, eh, lass? Aye, well I did hear of a job recently that caused a few red faces among some of Sunderland’s finest. Seems Mr Farley, him that lives in Farley Hall an’ is a magistrate an’ close friend of the chief constable? Well, it seems his mansion was robbed an’ his lady wife’s jewellery went missin’. Beautiful pieces some of ’em, so I understand, an’ naturally they’d be inclined to throw the book at the so-an’-sos that did the wicked deed, if they could catch ’em, that is. If somethin’ from that little haul was found about McLinnie’s person . . . Now, just supposin’ that comes to pass, do I take it you don’t want Zac knowin’ owt aforehand?’
‘You know him, he’s as stubborn as a mule at times. He won’t agree to this.’
‘Aye, well right at this minute I’m thinkin’ it takes one to know one, lass.’ His smile widened. ‘But one thing’s for sure, I won’t make the mistake of payin’ you a visit an’ speakin’ in the kitchen out of earshot like.’ Rosie had confessed to her eavesdropping the night before, which Alec had seemed to find amusing.
‘I had to do that, I knew Zachariah would try and do something foolish. Will you do it, Alec? Will you help us again? Please? If Shane McLinnie could be locked away for a good few years, we could move far away from here, Zac and me and the bairn - far enough that he could never find us.’
They looked at each other for a moment, the slender, well-dressed and quietly spoken young woman and the hard, rough miscreant, and then Alec said by way of answer, a twinkle deep in his cold eyes, ‘I’ve never felt inclined to tie the knot meself, lass, never fancied the idea of a woman layin’ down the rules, an’ by gum you’ve proved me right sure enough.’
But it was a compliment and Rosie recognized it as such, and when she grinned at him and said, ‘I’ll tell Zachariah afterwards, once everything’s sorted and Shane is caught and behind bars,’ he laughed out loud.
‘Aye, well just make sure I’m well clear when you do, lass, ’cos he’ll be after havin’ me guts for garters sure enough.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘I don’t like this, Zachariah. I hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘Stop worryin’, man, you’re as bad as him.’ Zachariah thumbed at Tommy Bailey, who was sitting next to Davey at the pub table and looked scared to death. ‘Look, I’ve told you, Alec has a couple of blokes watchin’, an knowin’ Alec they’ll be able to cope with anythin’. I only told you about tonight ’cos I thought it was only right to put you in the picture, you havin’ tipped me the wink in the first place. An’ there’s no need for you to come instead of Tommy.’
‘It’s better I do.’ Davey’s voice was quiet but his face was troubled. Tommy Bailey was a small man and very slight; if something went wrong he would be of no help to Zachariah against Shane McLinnie and his professional thug and they all knew it.
‘It’s near enough nine. If we’re goin’ we’d better be makin’ tracks.’ And then Zachariah looked straight at Davey and his voice didn’t falter as he said, ‘I appreciate this, man. You turnin’ up like this.’
‘Aye, well let’s just stick close and keep our wits about us, eh?’ Davey smiled as they rose to leave, and as the two of them stepped down into the street he tried to act as naturally as possible but it was difficult. There was something about all this he didn’t like - it was a bit too much like stepping willingly into the lion’s den.
It was still quite light and there was even the odd child playing out at the top end of the street where the terraced houses were, but Zachariah and Davey turned in the opposite direction towards the tram stop. The street was a long one and the Dog and Rabbit was situated halfway along on the left-hand side adjoining the high wall of a factory with a school beyond. On the opposite side of the road was another long high brick wall enclosing the grounds of a Catholic church, and beyond that a laundry, so effectively the street became little more than a tunnel at that point, with any activity at the top end where the houses were.
The tram stop was round the corner of the street they were presently walking down and part way into the next one, which was called Sadlers Row. Sadlers Row was even lonelier, being made up of shops on one side followed by a large area of waste ground, and facing this on the other side ran ten terraces called groves. There were eight houses with eight more back-to-back to each terrace, and they were dismal.
Just before they turned the corner, and as two young children of eight or nine darted past them in the deepening twilight, their bare feet making little sound on the dusty pavement, Davey risked a quick glance behind him. There were two figures some distance behind, but they were strolling slowly from what he could make out. They could be Alec’s men but there was no way of knowing for sure.
‘There’s a couple of blokes behind us, Zachariah, but they’re a long way off if there’s any trouble.’
‘Aye, well I can’t see sight nor sound of the organ grinder or his monkey,’ Zachariah said quietly under his breath. ‘Maybe they’ve bin frightened off. Alec said he’d be careful but it don’t take much to-- Hold on, what’s to do?’
They had just reached the last shop with the waste ground stretching before them, and Davey was never very sure of the sequence of events in the following minutes. As two figures emerged like bullets out of a gun from behind the wall of the shop, a fist caught him full between the eyes causing him to rock backwards but then he was fighting for his life, or so it seemed, as the big, thickset gorilla with Shane was on top of him with fists and feet. He heard shouts which he took to be Alec’s men, but he was having his work cut out merely to defend himself and he knew a moment’s panic: his opponent was bigger and heavier and altogether nastier than him, and plenty of his own punches were missing their target.
Just as Alec’s men reached them he saw Zachariah go down, but then the reinforcements were on Shane, bearing him to the ground even as Shane was aiming his big hobnailed boots at Zachariah’s crumpled body.
The shrill whistle and shouts of ‘Police, lads! Stay where you are!’ cut through the pandemonium in a moment, but in the instant Davey’s attacker turned tail and ran, one of Alec’s men who was grappling with Shane gave a horrible groan and rolled over, and then the other was clutching at his arm and screaming blue murder. Davey saw the glint of silver and then the knife itself, but it still took a second more for the realization that Shane had used a knife on them to register. He’d meant work all right, Davey thought feverishly. It had been Zachariah he’d intended to use that on.
Davey saw two policemen do a flying tackle on the gorilla a few yards away but Shane was already up on his feet and preparing to run. Zachariah was now in a sitting position and shaking his head like a boxer after the knock-out blow, but as Shane sprinted down the street Davey didn’t think twice. He thought he was going to get away, did he? Over his dead body.
He heard Zachariah shout for him to stop as he tore down the street after Shane, but his eyes were fixed on the figure in front of him. He could hear footsteps behind him as he wove in and out of the myriad back lanes and alleyways, but he didn’t look back to see who was following. He knew instinctively where Shane was making for. The docks. He would make for the docks like a rat to its hole, and in the web of brothels and gin houses and tenement slums he would attempt to go to ground. He wouldn’t be the first to disappear down there either. But McLinnie wouldn’t get away, not if Davey had anything to do with it.
As he continued the chase his breath was fire in his chest and he felt his lungs were ready to explode; but for the backbreaking years on the farm and the hard grind of the shipyard he would never have been able to keep up the punishing pace. But he couldn’t lose him. Shane’d intended to kill Zachariah the night - he hadn’t been messing with that knife - and he’d try again if he wasn’t stopped. It was the one thought, the only thought, in Davey’s pounding head as he followed the fleeing figure into the rabbit warren surrounding the docks.
The July night was warm and muggy and the sweat was pouring off him, his hair as wet as if he’d been underwater, and in spite of the urgency he was moving slower now, totally spent - but so was Shane McLinnie. They were both stumbling rather than running, and as they passed house after house where dirty, runny-nosed bairns were sitting on stone doorsteps, sometimes with a black-shawled woman watching them but more likely than not left to their own devices, he was aware of the pungent smell of unwashed humanity.
It was now nearly ten o’clock on a July weekday evening, and the docks were alive with activity, but of a different sort from during the day when the tugboats, pilot cobles, cargo vessels and the like churned the water, and the slowly dying secondary industries of ropemakers, fish-curers and many others spawned the banks.
Now the dark shadows were populated with sailors and visiting merchants and local men out for an evening pint, as well as the thieves and whores and vagabonds who preferred the night hours to go about their business.
Davey had nearly lost his footing a few times on the remains of gutted fish and offal and excrement as he panted after Shane, so when he saw the other man sprawl full-length he knew immediately what had happened. Shane was already scrambling to his feet as Davey reached him, the pool of rancid debris causing him to slip and slide as he struggled for balance. For a moment all the two men could do was stare at each other as they laboured for breath, their limbs quivering with exertion.
Shane was the first to speak. ‘Look, Connor, me quarrel’s with the other ’un, not you. It’s that runt I was after an’ I’d have thought you of all people’d understand why. How can you bear the thought of him touchin’ her, maulin’ her? He’s not a man--’
‘He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.’ Davey’s lower jaw was jutting out and his voice was a low growl.
Shane stared at him for a moment before he said, ‘I’m tellin’ you, you don’t know what he is. It was him who put the screws on me six years ago. Did you know that?’
Davey didn’t answer this directly but what he did say was, ‘An’ who told you that fairy story? You can’t trust any of them round here, they’d as soon sell their own soul as spit.’
‘It’s the truth I’m tellin’ you, I got it from the horse’s mouth, or as good as. It was from his woman, his whore. He’d bin visitin’ her for years afore he got rid of her when he set his sights on Rosie, an’ he used to talk to her, this Janie, the two of ’em were as thick as thieves. She told me.’
‘An’ you’d trust what she said when she’d been given the elbow?’
‘She didn’t know I knew him.’ Shane took a long hard pull of air. ‘She had no idea who I was, I never give her me real name. I made on I was fallin’ for her an’ then one time when she’d had a drop too much an’ was in a chatty mood I steered the talk round.’
They could both hear shouts coming nearer, and as Shane darted a quick glance behind him, Davey said, ‘Where is she? I’d like to talk to this Janie.’
‘Six foot under.’
‘Six . . . ? You did her in?’
‘No, no, man.’ Shane’s tongue flicked over his lips and then he said, ‘It wasn’t like that. Like I said, she’d had too much, she’d got to be a real soak an’ she was one of them that couldn’t hold it. She got maudlin an’ started talkin’ an’ I must’ve said somethin’, I dinna remember what, ’cos the next minute she’s tumbled who I am an’ the silly bitch starts screamin’ enough to wake the dead. I was just tryin’ to stop her screamin’, that was all.’
‘
You killed her.
’
You killed her.
’
Davey’s tone told Shane he wasn’t going to talk the other man round, and now the shouts and footsteps were almost on them. Shane’s hobnailed boot came up into Davey’s groin with enough force to send Davey stumbling backwards as he clutched himself in agony, but it was that movement that saved him from the thrust of the knife at his throat.
In spite of the pain ripping through his vitals he tried desperately to stay on his feet, and in the moment he raised his head and saw Shane bearing down on him and thought, I’m finished, I’m done for, he saw something catch Shane on the side of his head and send him spinning over the edge of the quay into the black water.
Only then did Davey allow himself to fall to his knees, and almost immediately the policeman who had thrown his truncheon at Shane reached him, two more pounding up a moment or two later.
He was going to be sick. Davey tried to fight the nausea but it was overpowering, and as he heaved his heart up on the filthy cobbles he could taste blood. He was shivering when he finished, and as the policemen helped him to his feet and he stood with them, and one or two interested onlookers to the incident who hadn’t melted away as soon as the police arrived, he watched the first policeman, who had dived into the water after Shane, being helped onto the side of the quay. The man glanced across at his colleagues either side of Davey and shook his head slowly. Shane McLinnie was dead.
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