Read Online The Crooked Beat by Nick Quantrill - Free Book Online Page A

quick jobs before we go back. Won’t take long. Need to have a word with some people.’ Holborn glanced at Ridley. ‘Alright?’
    Ridley knew he wasn’t being given a choice. They headed past Craven Park, home of Hull KR. ‘Wouldn’t piss on that place if it was on fire,’ Holborn said. ‘It’s more than the cheating bastards deserve.’
    Hull KR had taken the Cup, winning 10-5. One try apiece, but Hull KR kicked their penalties. Hull FC hadn’t. Hubbard v Lloyd. Only one winner. Holborn pulled up in a pub car park.
    The pub was nondescript, the area bland. A row of shops stood on the other side of the road. A butcher, a convenience store and a betting shop. It was the same as everywhere else. The pub was decorated in red and white. Holborn pushed people out of the way as he headed to the bar, daring them to challenge him. No one did.
    Holborn spoke to Ridley, pointing to the man pulling a pint for a customer. ‘I want you to meet Jimmy Geraghty, landlord of this shit-hole.’
    Ridley nodded to the man in front of them. ‘Alright.’
    ‘Can I get you gentleman a drink?’ Geraghty said.
    ‘Bet you’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?’ Holborn said, pointing to the Hull KR memorabilia.
    ‘What can I do for you?’
    ‘Let’s do it in private shall we, Jimmy?’
    Geraghty shook his head. ‘I’ve got people to serve.’
    Holborn smiled. ‘I don’t give a fuck, Jimmy. Your fan-club can do without you for ten minutes.’ He turned to Ridley. ‘Did you know Jimmy used to play for Rovers? Over 250 games for them, back when they were really shit. A fucking legend, weren’t you, Jimmy?’
    ‘If you like.’
    ‘Upstairs.’
    Geraghty led the way into the family living room and closed the door. Ridley looked around. The photographs covered the man’s rugby career and his growing family with two young boys. Geraghty was about forty years of age, but any muscle he’d had was now fat.
    ‘You know what we want, Jimmy,’ Holborn said. ‘Let’s not piss about.’
    ‘I haven’t got the money.’
    ‘I heard that, Jimmy, and that’s what brings me here. It’s the wrong answer. Try again.’
    ‘I haven’t got it.’
    ‘Mr Salford’s not going to be best pleased with your attitude.’
    ‘I can’t help that.’
    Holborn laughed. ‘That’s not the attitude we’re after, is it Don?’
    Ridley said nothing, knowing this was heading in a direction which wasn’t right. Holborn lunged forward and punched Geraghty in the stomach. Ridley watched Geraghty go down, winded.
    Holborn shook his head. ‘You try to help some people out but this how they treat you.’ He bent down. ‘Try again, Jimmy.’
    Geraghty struggled to his feet. Holborn punched him back to the floor. ‘Nobody said you could stand up.’ He turned to Ridley and pointed at Geraghty. ‘Be my guest. Take out some of the day’s frustrations on the fat cunt.’
    Ridley shook his head and walked over to the window. The street was quiet. If people weren’t downstairs celebrating, they were no doubt still in bed nursing hangovers from yesterday’s match.
    ‘Fucking hit him,’ Holborn repeated.
    Ridley shook his head again.
    ‘I’ve got the money,’ Geraghty said.
    ‘That’s better Jimmy,’ Holborn said. ‘Much better. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?’ He helped him stand back up.
    Geraghty went over to a drawer and took out an envelope.
    Ridley glanced at it and knew it was cash. Geraghty held it out towards Holborn.
     ‘What the fuck are you thinking, Jimmy? You don’t pass money to me. I’m a police officer.’
    Geraghty lowered his arm, a beaten man.
    ‘You pass it to Bancroft like normal. He’ll be in soon enough to see you.’ Holborn turned to Ridley and winked. ‘You remember your mate Andrew Bancroft, don’t you?’
    Ridley didn’t say a word, but thought back the altercation in the interview room. He knew him.
    Holborn spoke to Geraghty. ‘It wasn’t that hard after all, was it Jimmy?’ He nodded to