‘Hello?’ she said into the receiver. ‘Police…?’
Chapter Ten. Gorgeous George Phones his Brother
‘Stewart? Is that you?’
‘Who else would it be? What’s the matter?’
Gorgeous George Renshaw was out of breath. He’d managed to flee the scrapyard and disappear into the maze of streets nearby. He knew he had to talk to his lawyer, but for some reason he’d called his brother instead. He was heading towards a café he knew. It was only two blocks further up the hill.
‘Are you walking?’ Stewart sounded amazed.
‘A cop came to see me.’
‘So?’
‘So she recognised one of the cars. Don took it from Raymond’s. I was just getting rid of it.’
‘So it ties Don to the scene of the shooting?’
‘And me with him!’
‘All you have to say is that you don’t know anything about it. Don Empson came to you with a car he wanted turned into scrap. You know him of old, so you felt you had to oblige.’
‘That’s good,’ George said quietly. He knew now why he had called Stewart. Stewart was always the one with the ideas.
‘So now I’ve done you a favour, maybe you can do one for me and get my money back from whoever took it!’
‘Don’s on the case.’
‘Of course he is. Until the cops pull him in…’
George had reached the café. Its door opened with a little ping of a bell. The owner knew him, nodded and smiled. George took the table by the window, phone still pressed to his ear.
‘Where is he anyway?’ Stewart was asking. ‘His nephew’s still not turned up for work.’ There was the sound of another phone ringing at Stewart’s end. He told George to hang on while he took it. George stared out of the window, wondering how the world could look the same as always when his own personal universe was exploding. It was less than a minute before Stewart came on again. ‘That was the cops,’ he said. ‘They want to know where they can find Benjy.’
‘He’s not turned up yet?’
‘No.’ Stewart fell silent, until George began to fear the connection had been lost. But then he heard his brother exhale loudly. ‘Hold on a second,’ Stewart said. ‘How did the cops find you, George? How come they put two and two together so fast?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Don left the car with you, next thing you know, the cops are on to it. Meantime, nobody’s seen Benjy since yesterday lunch-time. Do you see what I’m getting at? It’s Don.’
‘What is?’
‘The cash! A little retirement present to himself. He’s been wanting out of the firm ever since the old man died. So he sets the whole thing up. Goes to hand over the cash but has Benjy waiting in the wings…’
‘Don wouldn’t do that.’ George’s head was spinning. A mug of strong tea had appeared on the table and he ladled sugar into it. More ended up on the table than in the mug.
‘Come on, George, think about it!’ Stewart was saying.
George was trying to think. It wasn’t easy. There was a hissing noise in his ears and his heart was pumping. Don hadn’t tried stopping the shooter. Don hadn’t gone after him. Don had left the Bentley for George to get rid of. Don was out there somewhere with Sam and Eddie.
‘You really think…’
Oh yes, Stewart really thought. ‘Do you have any idea where he is now?’
‘Going after Celine Watts. He’s got Sam and Eddie with him.’
‘And who are they working for, George? You or Don?’
‘They’re my guys.’
‘Then tell them to bring Don in. We’ll have a few words with him, see what he has to say.’
George nodded. ‘Meantime, what about Hanley?’
‘I’ve not tracked him down yet. Might have to pay a house call.’
‘He’ll be bricking it.’
‘To start with, yes. But eventually, he’s going to start asking for the money again.’
‘You’ll get your money back, Stewart.’
‘I know I will, little brother. I know I will.’
Bob Sanders has news for Jane
Bob Sanders was on the phone to Jane again.
‘Where are you?’ he asked her.
‘Just leaving the scrapyard.’
‘So a team turned up, then?’
‘At long last, yes. Any news on Empson and his BMW?’
‘No, but listen to this. A woman decided to call 999.’
‘That is strange.’
‘Her husband is Andrew Hanley. He’s on the council. In fact, he’s Head of Planning.’
‘I’m with you so far.’
‘Mr Hanley came home last night with blood on his shoes. Guess where he’d been?’
‘Where?’
‘Raymond’s Garage.’ Bob paused. ‘For a meeting with Donald Empson and an unknown amount of cash.’
Jane whistled. ‘Is he hurt?’
‘His wife doesn’t think so. He told her the blood was paint.’
‘So if he’s not hurt, and Empson’s not hurt, we’re still one short.’
‘And Benjamin Flowers still hasn’t put in an appearance. Maybe Mr Hanley can fill us in.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘Well, according to his wife, he fled the house when she confronted him. I’m guessing it may tie in with some other calls we’ve been getting about a man, no jacket and no shoes, running hell for leather through Murison Park.’
‘Is a patrol car on its way there?’
‘Yes.’
‘What would I do without you, Bob?’
‘Save a fortune on confectionery,’ he answered.
Don Empson is in trouble
Sam and Eddie were hungry. They were almost always hungry. That was why they’d pulled into a lay-by on the ring road. There was a snack van parked there. Don Empson could smell fried onions.
‘Best burgers in the city,’ Eddie had said. Despite which, Don had said he wasn’t hungry. He swallowed another three pills instead, washing them down with water from a bottle. His stomach was on fire. ‘Try to keep your stress levels down at work,’ the doctors had advised. Some chance. He’d bought the water when they’d stopped for petrol. He had tried phoning his police contact again, but Connolly hadn’t picked up. Dead ends, everywhere he looked.
He hoped Benjy was holed up somewhere and being looked after. It was Don’s own fault. The boy had never been right for the job. There had always been little plans and notions, quick-money schemes. More than once, Don had covered his nephew’s backside. There were gambling debts, poker games gone wrong. And expensive girlfriends to go with that flash car he drove. Weekends in five-star hotels. Wrong, all of it.
Don’s own fault.
The best he could hope for was to get the money back pronto, then try to smuggle Benjy out of the country. That was the only option, or else he was dead meat. This was what Don was thinking as he stared out through the windscreen. Sam and Eddie were chomping their way through the burgers, kicking at stones, laughing about something. Not a care in the world, so it seemed. When Don’s phone rang, he reached into his pocket for it.
He was wrong.
Not his phone, hers. He reached into his other pocket. He didn’t recognise the number on the screen. He knew better than to answer, his voice might scare off whoever was on the other end. Instead, he let the phone ring. And when it stopped, he waited until the screen told him he had 1 Missed Call.
Followed a few moments later by 1 New Message.
Don punched the numbers and pressed the phone to his ear. It was Celine Watts’ voice. She was calling her own phone.
‘Donna?’ she began, meaning her cousin, obviously. ‘Look, I hope you get this. Your own phone’s out of credit. Sorry I ran off like that, but I just want you to know I’m all right. I’ve got to get away for a bit, that’s all. Came into some cash, too, but relax, I’ll see you get some.’ Don’s fingers tightened around the phone. He knew whose money it was. ‘Anyway, just wanted you to know. I’ll call you again, once I know where I’m going. Take care.’ An electronic voice replaced Celine’s, ‘Message ends.’ Don stared at the phone’s screen and then punched some numbers in, the same numbers that had come up when Celine made the call.