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Authors: DEREK THOMPSON
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on a few words by now. He felt his chest swell a little. “Yorkshire, only I’ve been naturalised.”
“Aye, well, don’t lose touch with your roots. That right, Karl?” Ken gave him a playful slap on the arm.
As Thomas left the table, a mere errand boy for drinks, he heard Karl asking if Ken needed any money.
“Do I, fuck!” was Ken’s defiant reply
Returning to the table with Ken’s lager and crisps, he played the silence game to see what the tide brought in. Answer: very little. Karl was tight-lipped, while Ken had a haunted look about him, which Thomas hoped a few more beers would exorcise.
Eventually Thomas gave up and went to the bar for a set of darts. He played against himself, last man standing. The walks back from the dartboard showed him that conversation had resumed in his absence, though not much of it. Karl looked rattled and Ken was getting progressively more out of control. Finally, he stood up, leaned over Karl and hissed, “Don’t forget, you owe me.” Then he staggered off to the gents, colliding with the back of someone’s chair and offering an incomprehensible apology in his wake.
“Everything all right?” Thomas teased his thumb against a dart.
“Champion.” Karl’s face didn’t agree. “Listen, Tommo, do you fancy working tonight?”
“Sure.” He watched Karl’s face start to relax. “What time?”
Karl checked his watch and deliberated. “About two a.m. You might wanna get a nap in, given it’s barely ten. Either that or some strong coffee.”
“Do you and your mate need some space?”
“Ken?” Karl laughed. “If I know him, he’ll be out the back door and away by now.” Karl’s mobile trilled. He glanced at the number before he answered. “I’ll come out now.” He brightened and nodded to Thomas. “Perfect timing. Could you give me a couple of minutes?”
With Karl outside he made a beeline for the gents. Turning left from the exit instead of right, he found himself in a yard — crates stacked against the walls and heavy wooden gates at the far end. Ken must have been keen to disappear.
Karl was already in the driving seat when he got round to the car. He spotted him pocketing a key as he got in.
“Tommo, your friend from the old days — Ajit, was it? Do you trust him?
“Yeah, of course,” he said without thinking. He wondered where this was leading.
Karl started playing with the key again. “I mean really trust him, like you trust Miranda?”
He felt his face burning. “No. I don’t trust anyone else like that — not even you.”
“Good man.” Karl nodded slowly and started the car, dropping the key down by the handbrake. Thomas got a good look at it and the hairs on his neck stood up.
Chapter 13
Thomas flinched. Karl was slow to respond to his mobile alarm until a sharp nudge did the trick.
“Right, time to switch. You’ll be in the driving seat for a change.” He got out and let Thomas lever himself across.
Rain was already spattering the windscreen; the windows had misted up. It didn’t help that the inside of the car smelled like a kebab graveyard.
“Where are we heading?”
Karl read a text and sucked a tooth. “I’ll navigate as we go.” He fetched a battered street guide from under the seat.
They were near the Thames; Thomas was sure about that, though not much else. He followed Karl’s monotone directions, arriving near a block of flats.
“Okay, give me five minutes and then start the car. If anyone spooks you — especially if it’s the police — drive off and I’ll make my own way back. I’ll leave my phone here, locked. Worst case scenario, try flashing your badge.”
Thomas smiled, recalling the one and only time an SSU ID had headed off a parking ticket. These days it’d be more likely to double the fine.
Karl exited the car quietly and headed into the shadows. Now came the waiting. Thomas tripped his mobile to silent and read another text from Ajit: Don’t they have phones in London anymore?
A
“Aye, well, don’t lose touch with your roots. That right, Karl?” Ken gave him a playful slap on the arm.
As Thomas left the table, a mere errand boy for drinks, he heard Karl asking if Ken needed any money.
“Do I, fuck!” was Ken’s defiant reply
Returning to the table with Ken’s lager and crisps, he played the silence game to see what the tide brought in. Answer: very little. Karl was tight-lipped, while Ken had a haunted look about him, which Thomas hoped a few more beers would exorcise.
Eventually Thomas gave up and went to the bar for a set of darts. He played against himself, last man standing. The walks back from the dartboard showed him that conversation had resumed in his absence, though not much of it. Karl looked rattled and Ken was getting progressively more out of control. Finally, he stood up, leaned over Karl and hissed, “Don’t forget, you owe me.” Then he staggered off to the gents, colliding with the back of someone’s chair and offering an incomprehensible apology in his wake.
“Everything all right?” Thomas teased his thumb against a dart.
“Champion.” Karl’s face didn’t agree. “Listen, Tommo, do you fancy working tonight?”
“Sure.” He watched Karl’s face start to relax. “What time?”
Karl checked his watch and deliberated. “About two a.m. You might wanna get a nap in, given it’s barely ten. Either that or some strong coffee.”
“Do you and your mate need some space?”
“Ken?” Karl laughed. “If I know him, he’ll be out the back door and away by now.” Karl’s mobile trilled. He glanced at the number before he answered. “I’ll come out now.” He brightened and nodded to Thomas. “Perfect timing. Could you give me a couple of minutes?”
With Karl outside he made a beeline for the gents. Turning left from the exit instead of right, he found himself in a yard — crates stacked against the walls and heavy wooden gates at the far end. Ken must have been keen to disappear.
Karl was already in the driving seat when he got round to the car. He spotted him pocketing a key as he got in.
“Tommo, your friend from the old days — Ajit, was it? Do you trust him?
“Yeah, of course,” he said without thinking. He wondered where this was leading.
Karl started playing with the key again. “I mean really trust him, like you trust Miranda?”
He felt his face burning. “No. I don’t trust anyone else like that — not even you.”
“Good man.” Karl nodded slowly and started the car, dropping the key down by the handbrake. Thomas got a good look at it and the hairs on his neck stood up.
Chapter 13
Thomas flinched. Karl was slow to respond to his mobile alarm until a sharp nudge did the trick.
“Right, time to switch. You’ll be in the driving seat for a change.” He got out and let Thomas lever himself across.
Rain was already spattering the windscreen; the windows had misted up. It didn’t help that the inside of the car smelled like a kebab graveyard.
“Where are we heading?”
Karl read a text and sucked a tooth. “I’ll navigate as we go.” He fetched a battered street guide from under the seat.
They were near the Thames; Thomas was sure about that, though not much else. He followed Karl’s monotone directions, arriving near a block of flats.
“Okay, give me five minutes and then start the car. If anyone spooks you — especially if it’s the police — drive off and I’ll make my own way back. I’ll leave my phone here, locked. Worst case scenario, try flashing your badge.”
Thomas smiled, recalling the one and only time an SSU ID had headed off a parking ticket. These days it’d be more likely to double the fine.
Karl exited the car quietly and headed into the shadows. Now came the waiting. Thomas tripped his mobile to silent and read another text from Ajit: Don’t they have phones in London anymore?
A
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