Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) (9 page)

Becky took my sleeve, a strong grip. ‘Hey, it’s your round next. And the night’s only young. There’s lots to do.’ She smiled and leant forward. ‘I have a room here you know.’

I slid out of her grip. ‘Thanks for the drinks.’

She stood and joined me. ‘Listen, thanks for doing this. Watching out for Casper.’

‘Let’s see what happens.’ I walked back to the building. She walked along side me. I stopped at the doorway. ‘I’ll come find you. Once I’ve talked to him.’

‘Thanks.’

As I pulled the door open I motioned for her to go first. She stepped through but stopped and turned, so that I walked into her. Our bodies were pushed together, face to face, my chest shoved up against hers. She gripped me and held me there.

‘If you want to make sure it's him,’ she said, ‘ask him about this.’ She pulled her top down a little to show a mole on her left breast. ‘Think you'll remember?’ her voice was low, her breath on my face, warm, gin and lemon scented. She stepped away, smiled. ‘See you soon.’

‘Yeah.’ I made my way across the bar and carried on out, away from the hotel. I walked back fast, thinking about Round Up and things I needed to do to the bike.

Thinking about anything but Becky.
 

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
I took a walk on the beach. It was one of the things that had first attracted me to the town, reminding me of long gone holidays. Jamie, my old partner — he’d had a thing for beaches. That was the last thing we’d done together, sit on a beach further down the Northumbrian coast, me and him chatting. Shortly before I dissolved our partnership.

Not that the beach at Faeston was much to look at. It was gouged and holed where sand has been removed for building work, conditioning soil, anything. Rubbish lay strewn about: busted devices with no use — computers, phones and TV sets. Relics from a different time. And of course there was the sewerage. Turds washed up that hadn’t caught the tide.
 

Despite all the crap and junk, it felt good to walk along it, below the cliffs that protected High Town, the entrance to the bay just ahead. The stonework appeared out of the late summer fret as the sun burnt down through it. I was thinking, weighing up where this was all going. Whether I was right to tag along with Becky. Get involved with her brother.

It wasn’t like I wanted to stick with Round Up. I wasn’t even keen on the town anymore. This was where I’d ended up not somewhere I’d chosen. It had been easy to pick up work but I’d never planned to stay forever. I’d been drawn into the place; found a decent flat. Fixed the Triumph up and gone to the races. Sophie had latched onto me and made us into a couple. I’d got used to living in Faeston.

If living was the word.

I stopped by a rock pool and sat on a busted TV set. It was a really old one, a great box of cracked plastic. The tube had gone but the rest of it lay cock-eyed in the sand. I picked up a handful of stones and threw them into the water. Something brown floated around in the pool.

I was bored. Sick of the routine of Round Up. It was all about controlling and playing power games. There was no one with any sense of the outside. Their world was the town. They didn’t want to know about other places or how people did things elsewhere.

Becky wasn’t like that. She was a real outsider. Full of ideas and energy. She wasn’t someone to hang around in one place. Make a home and pretend the old-world still existed. She was more interested in being on the move and free to go where there were opportunities.
 

More like me.

But she was an odd one. There was lots she wasn’t telling me. Too much. And her brother was an unknown.
 

Jamie used to always go on about having a plan. And Gary. Now it was time for me to have one.
 

I’d got stuck in Faeston. Stuck in a rut. It had been fine for a while but it was time to go.
 

I walked off the beach and into town.

When I got to Round Up Central Nico wasn't there. But Will was, sitting up in the control room that had once been the security office. He grunted at me when I told him about the interrogation, that I’d been picked to do it. Before he led me off I grabbed a pencil and piece of paper.

Our footsteps echoed off the walls as we walked along the corridor. The only breaks in the grey concrete were the low, barred windows and bare light bulbs every two metres. Round Up were allowed a much electricity as needed and Nico made sure they got it.
 

I’d not really thought about what I was going to ask Casper. Anyway, I’d work it out as it went along. As usual.

We turned a corner and Will stopped at a steel door. There was a narrow slit two-thirds up sealed by a metal flap: it was one of the secure rooms, where we stuck troublemakers when they were brought in.
 

‘This is it.’ Will took out a key and put it in the lock. The mechanism turned with a dull clank. ‘There are two of our men inside with him. I’ll wait outside.’
 

‘I don’t need the men.’

‘Well you’ve got them.’
 

The door swung open. There was no light. The only illumination was from the small window high up on the far wall. Three people stood in the cell: two Round Up men, who I didn’t recognise, and the prisoner, Casper. He had blond hair, cut short, almost shaved. He was in his thirties, a similar age to Becky. His face was bruised and he had a black eye. He looked as if he was having difficulty staying upright. Before the three of them was a table with a seat at either side.
 

‘This is the interrogator,’ said the Will.
 

I went in and he left, shutting the door behind him.
 

One of the guards watched Casper but the other one just stared ahead. At the locked door.

I approached Casper, trying to ignore them.
 

Normally we did Round Up interviews two on one. Prisoner versus good cop and bad cop. Sometimes bad cop, bad cop. I didn’t like having the two guards in the cell.

‘I’m Trent,’ I said.
 

Casper didn’t react. I thought about repeating it, but then he looked at me, one eyebrow raising.

‘I just want to chat. Ask a few questions.’

He nodded but lowered his head again.

‘Can he sit?’ I said to one of the men, the fella staring into space.

The other one answered for him. ‘We were told to keep him standing.’

‘He needs to sit. So I can quiz him.’

He glanced at his companion. For a second they seemed to communicate with minor facial expressions. ‘I suppose so,’ he said.

They nudged Casper forward and he stumbled into the chair, resting his elbows on the table, sighing. I sat opposite, leaning back in my seat. The two men were rigid behind him, as if something was going to happen.

‘You two can go. I’m fine here.’

The same guard replied as before. ‘We were told to stay.’

‘At least go over to the wall. Give us some space.’

Again they looked at one another, did that mind-reading thing. After a moment they moved towards the door and stood each side of it.

‘Well, Casper,’ I said in a loud voice. ‘I guess you know what this is about.’

His head was in his hands and he leant forward.

‘I’m just here to chat. Ask questions.’

He looked up. ‘Is that so?’ His voice was sharp, gruff.

‘Yes, questions.’ I leant forward and wrote BECKY on the piece of paper.
 

This got him. He straightened up, grinned at this, a mean smile, as he eyed me. Under Becky’s name I wrote SHE’S IN TOWN. SAFE.

I raised my voice. ‘I need to know where you came from; why are you here; who you work for?’

‘Oh yeah?’

There was one last test for him. And her. I wrote: MOLE.
 

He smiled and tapped his chest, beside his left nipple. Then he sat back, arms crossed. Smug.

‘So,’ I said, louder. ‘What brought you here?’

‘Just passing through.’

‘Passing through to where?’ I had to get something from him. Something to give Nico. Keep him off my back.

‘Somewhere else.’

‘We need to know where you were going; where you came from?’

‘Oh?’ He sighed and fidgeted but said no more.
 

‘What about your vehicle? The tank?’

‘Tank?’ Then nothing.

‘Tell me how you got it; how it works?’

‘Seriously?’

I put my elbows on the table. So did he. Now we were face to face, up close. ‘If you don’t tell me something,’ I said, ‘then they’ll send in someone else. They’ll beat it out of you.’

We eyeballed each other for a moment.
 

‘Why did you come through town. Shoot the place up.’

‘Didn’t mean to.’

‘Go on.’

He sighed. ‘I was meant to go round but took the wrong road. Then people started shooting so I shot back…’

‘And where were you going?’

He sat back again, his lips tight and brow furrowed. The arms were crossed on his chest and he took a deep breath. For a minute we sat and looked at each other, him silent but lips moving as he ground he teeth.

‘Look,’ I said. ‘You’re stuck here. Either you talk to me or Nico will start hurting you.’

He tilted his head to one side but said nothing.

‘We know a little about the tank.’

He put his hands on the table, licked his lips. ‘The Eblis…’

Then there was a sound from the door. It unlocked and opened.

Will came in. ‘We’re needed on a job. Urgent.’

I crossed out everything I’d written on the piece of paper then added EBLIS -THE TANK and YORKSHIRE: something I’d guessed by the route he had come into town.

Casper looked up at me, shrugged, raised both eyebrows. I turned and followed Will out. As the door was shutting Casper watched me, the two guards now back at his side.

Maybe he was Becky’s brother. A lot of her story fitted. He wasn’t someone I’d warmed to. Not a man I’d trust.

Will shuffled off ahead of me. ‘This is a big one,’ he said. ‘We’ve got ring leaders. We’ve got the main troublemakers in the town.’

I
T
WAS
SHORT
WALK
from Central to where Nico had the lads. They were at the Seaview Hotel, once grand but now a mess like most of the South Side. Will took me straight in, through the bust doors and up onto the first floor. The carpets were stained and ripped, much of the wooden panelling ripped off the wall. He led me on towards a room at the end where the door was open. It was a double bedroom with only a settee and bed, filthy bedding knotted up on it. The bay window looked across the town, though the glass was so dirty it was hard to see much. It smelled of sweat and piss. Nico paced up and down in front of three teenage boys sitting on the settee. They were scruffy. Thin. Gregg stood behind them and Will joined him, leaning against a busted table. I stood away from them.

‘See, the thing is,’ said Nico. ‘You crossed the line.’

The lads looked at each other and frowned. The one in the middle sat upright. ‘It was a misunderstanding,’ he said. His voice wavered as he spoke.

Nico smiled and walked back and forward, playing with his shades. ‘Oh, it was that, it really was —’

‘We won’t do it again.’

Nico laughed, a short bark that made them on their seats. He slid his shades on and pointed at each of them in turn. ‘This has gone too far, too fucking far.’ He nodded to Will who came round and joined him. Will felt around in his dungarees. He fumbled in his pocket for what felt like an age before he pulled out a length of cord. He wrapped it around one hand and pulled on it with the other.
 

Nico shook his head. ‘We need to teach you a lesson. Set an example.’

The lads didn’t move. They were all transfixed by the cord in Will’s hands.

‘Nico,’ I said.

Nico stopped pacing. He turned towards me and raised his right hand. His lips were tight and eyes fixed on me. That was a look that told me to back off. Leave it. Will and Gregg stared at me as well. Gregg tapped a pocket on his dungarees. There was a bulge in it the size of a pistol, one he’d love to pull out and jam in my face. Take me out and remove a competitor from the Round Up hierarchy.

I stepped backwards, away from them all. I wasn’t needed here and didn’t want to be part of it. I’d ease myself into the passageway and get the fuck away.

Nico started to pace again. He nodded to Will who swung the cord from one hand, left and right. The lads watched but didn’t move. Will moved up to the settee and they shrunk back. The cord jumped around in his hand above them. Then he flicked it towards Gregg behind the settee. Gregg grabbed it, wrapped it around one hand then the other. He dropped it onto the lad in front of him, over his head. His neck.