Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 (7 page)

I smiled. ‘Nice one, Jimmy. But no, I put an ad in the paper.’ I traced a banner headline above my head. “Weighton’s first and foremost P.I.”. It’s all about the razzmatazz, right? Anyway, it must’ve worked because she called me.’

‘What exactly were you investigating?’ asked Jimmy, fixing me an intense look.

Shit. Questions, questions. I was beginning to miss Bugg. But the big question was how much Jimmy knew I knew.

‘She never really told me,’ I bluffed again. ‘First time we met she was just checking me out, see if she could trust me. She hinted it was to do with some hanky-panky, but I don’t know.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘Second time, well, she wasn’t very talkative. I put it down to her being dead.’

Cartwright stared at me, his head rocking slightly. Then he got up and walked around the room, all the while fiddling with his cuffs. Finally he perched on the desk, right in front of me. ‘If you’re lying to me, well, let’s just say this town ain’t gonna miss you.’

‘My mum’d be distraught. I wouldn’t give you anything but twenty-twenty.’

‘Well, let’s hope so. For your mum’s sake.’ He slapped my cheek gently. ‘Now, I want you to leave here, and forget all about me. Forget about Mrs Porson. Stay right out of it. You don’t say another word to Hobbs. Got it?’

‘Wouldn’t have it any other way.’

‘Remember, Eddie, I’m a big noise in this town.’

‘I hear ya.’

His eyes compressed into a narrow stare. ‘Then hear this. Stay out of it, Eddie, or I’ll kill you.’

I made a definite nod. ‘Yes, Jimmy. No problem.’

‘I’m telling you,’ he repeated, leaning closer. ‘Don’t fuck with me now. This isn’t a game.’

In the way of head movements, I wasn’t sure what was required, so I nodded and shook my head, repeating the pattern.

As I was leaving, Cartwright called out, ‘Your Dad had a big mouth, too.’

The bastard had known all along.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Thursday – 16:12 (still the day before)

I switched buses three times until I was sure Jimmy’s men had given up following me. And with the whole of 9B’s back row to myself, I had space and time to think. I had lots of questions but no solid answers. Why was Cartwright interested in Porson? Had he been blackmailing her? Had he killed her? Who was the tail from the police station? I was pretty sure the guy was from out of town, but if he was one of Jimmy’s men, why had he run off when Tommy appeared? How long had Kate waited for me at the café? Would she speak to me again? Why was I in this shitty mess?

With the sun streaming through the bus window, I sat back and practised my breathing. Doctors say it’s the only way to live. My mind began whirling like a cement mixer, and I dared not stop in case it got stuck. Meanwhile, sleep took my ticket.

A crashed gear woke me, snapping my head forward. Startled, I was afraid to look up, half expecting to see one of Cartwright’s heavies glaring down at me, but it was only a young redhead with kid in tow, smiling from a row further down. I jerked my head from side to side to take in the surroundings, pleased to see comfortable familiarity standing to attention on both sides.

I had missed my intended stop, and was now deep in the heart of Eddie G country. Meanwood Street was one stop away. Gee, it was great to be back home.

I checked my watch and sure enough it was food time. Mum would be pleased to see me. Of course she would.

Like all mums, my mum knew when I was about to dock. As I arrived at the gate, she was standing tall at the front door. She would have made a great detective. She had
Magnum
beat no problem. Mind you, that applied to most people.

My hand wasn’t even on the gate when she spoke. ‘What’s going on, Edward?’

‘Good to see you, too. And it’s Eddie, you know.’

‘Me and your dad – God rest his soul – christened you Edward. That’s how it stays.’ Her long arms folded slowly.

I swung the gate open. ‘What’s for tea? I’m starving.’

‘Not before you tell me.’ She filled her chest with air, making it seem like the door frame had shrunk.

‘Tell you what?’

‘You know
what
?’

I shook my head. ‘What is what?’

‘Don’t lie to me, Edward. I know you’re in trouble.’

‘Define trouble?’ I put one foot on the doorstep, staking my claim.

‘I’m not stupid and I’m not talking about calls from school or visits from Mr Clement about his bloody shed window.’

I gave her the “no way” headshake. ‘All down to William Moore. You know that. His cricket ball, his bat, his mistimed cut. He had previous with Clement, too. If
Rough Justice
ever gets its bloody act together the world will know the truth.’ I held up three fingers. ‘We have forensics, motive and a smokin’ gun. Case dismissed.’

She just looked at me, her face implacable.

Then the penny dropped.

‘I get it, now,’ I said. ‘Bob “The Louse” Jones called you, yeah?’

The brief look of puzzlement on her face was genuine. ‘I haven’t heard from him. And he’s not a louse.’

‘So who’s been tweetin’?’

She eyed me carefully. ‘First I had a visit from a Detective Bugg. Then three men called at the house on behalf of Mr Cartwright. Said you’d know them.’

‘Ah,’ I said, taking a backward step, ‘takeaway it is.’

~

I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the
Post
, and half way through a second cup of tea, when Mum raised the subject again.

‘Come on, Edward, what’s going on? Is it to do with this case you’ve taken on?’

She was straight on the money. Pinpoint enough for a whole case of cigars. I pressed my hands around the hot mug until they began to burn. ‘If I tell you, promise not to worry?’

She leaned against the gas cooker, crossing her arms. ‘I’m your Mother. It’s like asking me not to open your mail.’

‘Deal or no deal?’

‘You will
tell me, and I will still worry.’

I tried a partial change of subject. ‘A man is blessed to have so many visitors in one day, don’t you think? Did these impertinent fellows say what they wanted?’

‘The police had a look around and left.’

‘Without a warrant?’ I made the “sheesh” noise. ‘You know better than that, Mum. You did live with a policeman, remember?’

She raised a finger and wagged it in that “watch your step young man” fashion. Then she switched back to Bugg mode. ‘Why did the police come here?’

‘Probably looking for a bent shovel,’ I wondered out loud.

‘What does that mean?’

‘Nothing. What about the others?’

She paused and looked at me before replying. ‘They were looking for you, wouldn’t say why. They told me not to worry; they’d find you in town.’

‘There you go.
Everyone’s
tellin’ you not to worry.’

She shook her proud head. ‘They were very polite. Too polite. Really made me shiver, love.’ She stepped over to the table and put her hand on mine. Her eyes blinked away tears. ‘I was scared. Not for me, but you. Please tell me what’s going on?’

I felt a stinging pain attack my Achilles’ heel. I’d have to give a little. I hated to see her cry. She’d had enough of that when Dad died.

‘That case I’ve taken on – my lady client – well, she kinda died on me. The police are looking into it.’ I shrugged. ‘It’s what they do.’

She looked up sharply. ‘Died?’

I nodded.

‘Do they think you’re involved?’

‘Come on, Mum, you knew enough about Dad’s work to know the answer to that. I’m the only lead they’ve got. They’re making enquiries, trying to eliminate me as a suspect. That’s all.’

‘You’re not involved, are you.’ It was a statement, not a question.

‘I’d only just met the lady. Honest. There’s not much I can tell them.’

She offered a half smile, but it was only a staging post, disappearing as she went on. ‘What about the other men and this Mr Cartwright? Do I know that name?’

‘You may do. I know Dad knew him. He’s a businessman from Weighton, and he’s on the city council.’

Mum zeroed in a stare. ‘And he sends three heavies to see you because …?’

 ‘That’s a bit more difficult. I’m guessing here, but I think he’s connected to the lady who died. I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it.’

‘You won’t, Edward. I forbid it. You hear me?’

‘Yeah, in big decibels.’

Everyone seemed keen to tell me what to do all of a sudden. Mum was the only one I was ever likely to take notice of, though. Not that I would. I’d never not solved a case, and I didn’t intend to start with my first.

‘You are
off
this case,’ continued Mum, clasping her hands tight. ‘I’ll give the police a note.’

‘Nice one, but it won’t be necessary. I was never on the case.’

‘Good.’ She tried another smile. ‘I want you to go and see Bob. See if he can help.’

‘There’s no point dragging him into it.’

‘He’s sharp on this type of thing.’

‘Mum, I’ve seen side-partings that are sharper than Bob. Let’s just leave it, okay?’

She paused and nodded to herself. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

‘I’m uncanny, I know.’

‘Those policemen,’ she said, her chin wobbling slightly. ‘They didn’t know your father, did they?’

‘Nah. I tell you what, though, Mum. Since Dad left, it’s like the Keystone Cops down there.’

She didn’t reply at first, she was obviously thinking back to the hazy, crazy days of
Z Cars
. Then she caught up. ‘Why don’t you apply to join the police? Like your Dad wanted. Forget the private detective stuff. You know he’d be so proud.’

‘It’s not for me, Mum, but I’ll get there. In a different way, maybe. I promise.’ I hoped she believed me, and I hoped I wasn’t mis-selling myself, either.

Mum knew not to dwell on the subject. She shuffled on. ‘Is Debbie coming round tonight?’

‘I’m going over to her place.’

She wagged a non-permissive finger. ‘Make sure you wear a condom.’

‘Ma, give me a break!’

Mum narrowed her eyes, knowing she didn’t have to say anything else. With a move they could never teach you in Tae Kwon Do, she scooped up my empty mug and plunged it in the soapy suds already overflowing the kitchen sink.

I’d almost forgotten about the lovely Debbie, which could have been fatal, since I’d agreed to go to her flat for a big romantic night in. Or “sex,” as I wasn’t allowed to call it. But having been reminded of Debbie, all I could think about was Kate. I wondered if she was still sitting all lonesome at the Blue Café, a barely touched blueberry muffin pushed to the other side of the table. More likely she’d put out a contract on me, right behind Jimmy in the queue. Oh well, something else to put right.