‘You know the landlord there’s a meth addict, don’t you?’
‘Really?’
‘Apparently they cook it up in the kitchen — ’
‘Cal,’ I said firmly.
He grinned at me. ‘What?’
‘Will you just shut up and fucking listen to me for a minute?’
He didn’t stop grinning. ‘Yeah, no trouble … go ahead, I’m all ears.’
‘Right,’ I sighed.
‘All ears and no mouth.’
I glared at him.
He made a zipping motion over his mouth.
I waited a moment, staring into his endearingly lunatic eyes, and then I spoke slowly and calmly. ‘Last night … before I was attacked … I think someone was following me in a silver-grey Renault.’
Cal said nothing, just raised his eyebrows.
‘I thought I’d lost them,’ I went on. ‘But just before the first guy hit me, I saw the Renault parked down the street. Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean that I was beaten up by whoever was following me in the Renault, but I’d say it’s a pretty good bet. Wouldn’t you?’
Cal just looked at me, his mouth clamped shut.
‘You can talk now,’ I sighed.
He smiled. ‘Did you get the number?’
‘Yep.’
‘Shit. Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?’
‘I would have if you hadn’t kept — ’
‘Interrupting you?’
I looked at him. ‘Have you got a pen?’
‘Just give me the number,’ he said, grabbing the nearest laptop.
I gave it to him, and watched as his fingers skipped across the keyboard, his eyes fixed manically on the screen.
‘How long is this going to take?’ I asked, glancing at my watch.
‘That’s odd,’ he said, frowning at the screen. ‘Are you sure you gave me the right number?’
‘Yeah.’
He nodded. ‘You couldn’t have misread it, or maybe just remembered it wrong?’
‘I don’t think so. Why, what’s the matter?’
He tapped a few more keys, then shook his head. ‘It’s a blocked number. The database won’t give me any details.’
‘What does that mean?’
He carried on staring at the screen for a few moments, then he took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. ‘It means,’ he said, blowing out smoke, ‘well … it could mean that you’re in a lot of trouble.’
‘Why?’
He looked at me. ‘A blocked registration number usually means the vehicle’s registered with the military, the police, or secret services.’
‘Secret services?’
‘Yeah, you know, MI6, MI5, GCHQ …’ He smiled at me. ‘You haven’t been fucking around with spooks, have you?’
I shook my head. ‘Not as far as I know.’
‘If it’s a police vehicle,’ Cal went on, turning back to the screen, ‘I can probably work out a way to access the details. But if it’s military or intelligence … well, that’s a bit more tricky. More risky too.’ He looked back at me, and I could tell that he was intrigued now, desperate to know more about the case. But despite his tendency to jabber away all the time, especially when he was speeding, Cal would never just come out and ask me what I was working on. He’d always wait for me to tell him. And if — for whatever reason — I didn’t want to discuss the case with him, he’d simply accept my decision without question.
‘Do you remember that local girl who went missing about a month ago?’ I said to him.
He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. ‘Yeah … Anne Mellish or something? She was a model — ’
‘Anna Gerrish.’
‘That’s it.’
‘And she wasn’t a model. She was just …’ I paused for a moment, annoyed with myself for thinking of Anna as just anything — just a barmaid, just a junky, just a part-time whore. She was just a person. ‘Well, anyway,’ I went on. ‘Anna’s mother has hired me to look into her disappearance. That’s what I was doing at The Wyvern last night. Anna was a barmaid there.’
Cal nodded. ‘And what about the Renault and the guys who beat you up? What’s their connection?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What’s the situation with the police? Are they still looking for her … have they got any leads or anything?’
‘I’ll find out in an hour or so,’ I said, glancing at my watch. ‘I’ve got a meeting at 11.30 with the DCI in charge of the case.’ I looked at Cal. ‘Do you know Mick Bishop?’
He scowled. ‘Yeah … I know him. He’s a cunt.’
‘Yeah.’
Cal frowned. ‘Didn’t he have something to do with the charges against your dad?’
I nodded. ‘You could say that.’
Cal looked at me, waiting for me to go on. When I didn’t, he took the hint and changed the subject. ‘Well, anyway, I’ll see what more I can do with the registration number if you want … it might take a while, though.’
‘Yeah, thanks, Cal.’
‘And if there’s anything else I can do …’
I shook my head. ‘Not just yet … I want to try and find out if there’s anything more to all this first.’
‘Yeah, OK,’ Cal said, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice.
‘But I’ll let you know as soon as I need you,’ I told him. ‘All right?’
The smile he gave me then wasn’t the grin of a street-wise hustler, it was the smile of the child he used to be. The smile of Stacy’s little nephew.
‘You know I really like working with you, Nunc,’ he said almost shyly.
‘Don’t call me Nunc,’ I said, smiling at him.
‘How about just Nuncle?’ he grinned.
‘How about I kick your arse?’
He laughed.
I looked at my watch. ‘I’d better go,’ I said. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot …’ I took the damaged memory card out of my pocket and passed it to him. ‘Can you see if you can do anything with this?’
‘What happened to it?’ he said, examining the card.
‘It got hit with a hammer.’
He looked at me, his eyebrows raised.
I shook my head. ‘You don’t want to know.’
He glanced back at the card again. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Don’t spend too much time on it, it’s not that important.’
‘Whatever you say.’
I stood up and took out my wallet. ‘What do I owe you?’
‘For what?’
‘The registration number, the card …’
He waved me away. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, just … well, just remember what I said, all right? I like working with you. I miss it when you don’t come round.’
I looked at him, trying to think of something to say, something that would tell him how much he meant to me … but in the end I just kind of nodded, and he nodded back, and that was about it. I think we both would have liked to have held each other then … but, for whatever reason, it just didn’t happen.
We didn’t speak for a while as Cal showed me out of the flat, and I could tell that he was beginning to come down from whatever it was he’d been taking. But after he’d waited patiently for me to hobble up the stairs, and we were heading along the hallway towards the front door, he suddenly seemed to perk up again.
‘What did you think of Barbarella?’ he asked me, grinning once again.
‘Barbarella?’
‘Yeah, the girl who answered the door … her name’s Barbarella Barboni.’ He looked at me. ‘She used to be an acrobat … well, she still is I suppose. The circus sacked her.’
‘What?’
‘She was with that circus that came to Hey in the summer. You know the one I mean? She did all the acrobat stuff, you know … tumbling, juggling, that human pyramid thing. She was really good, apparently.’
‘So why did she get sacked?’ I asked, slightly bemused.
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know … she’s never really talked about it.’
I looked at Cal. ‘Has this actually got anything to do with anything?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I was just telling you, that’s all.’ He grinned again. ‘She’s very bendy.’
‘I bet she is.’
‘She’s also a very fine pickpocket. So, you know, if you ever need a pocket picking …’
‘I’ll bear it in mind.’