Read Dead or Alive Online

Authors: Ken McCoy

Dead or Alive (25 page)

‘Who the fuck are you?'

‘Ma name's Jimmy Lennon and I know ye name's Jez Copitch and ye work fer Mister Vincent Formosa who's a very dangerous man.'

‘How d'yer know that?'

‘Because I'm in the business of knowing things. It's how I make ma livin'. I might be able te help ye … for a small consideration.'

‘Help? What sort of help do I need?'

‘I know many things, Jez. For example I know ye're in desperate need of help, which is why ye'll let me in ye house purely out of curiosity. I know about kidnapped children and murdered men and women. In fact, it has been said I know too much fer ma own guid.'

‘All right yer can come in.'

‘Can I bring ma bike in? I've heard it's a bit dodgy around here wi' all the bike thieves. I think maybe they do it te take the piss out of the polis by committin' bike crime under their noses.'

There was some truth in this, so Jez said, ‘What? Oh, I suppose so.'

Sep wheeled his bicycle in and left it in the hall. Jez's house was as Sep might have expected. It was a rented establishment with rented furniture. He would have done well to hire a housekeeper for a day or two a week, such was the state of the place. Much worse than Sep's, who considered his own house to be fairly untidy. Without being invited he sat down at a table, Jez sat opposite.

‘Right, Jimmy Lemon.'

‘Lennon, like the Beatle, only I'm trying to ensure you don't end up like him, with a bullet in your back.'

‘Why would anyone want to shoot me?'

‘I think you know.'

Jez frowned. He certainly did know, but how did this scruffy bastard know?

‘Tell me how yer can help me an' how much is it gonna cost?'

‘From a financial aspect, nothing,' said Sep.

‘What the fuck have you got that might be worth anythin' ter me?'

‘I'll tell ye what I know. I know the names of five people who know where the Strathmore kids are bein' held. You're one of 'em and another's that wee baldy twat from Birmingham or some such place.'

‘Kev Clarkson?'

‘Aye, that's the feller.'

‘Kev knows fuck-all about where the kids are.'

‘Well I'm sayin' he does. He's the one who rammed the back of the car going ter pick 'em up from school.'

‘I don't know about that.'

‘That's because you don't know as much as I do, Jez. Kev rammed the back of the woman's car who was going to pick the kids up. It delayed her long enough fer Lee Dench to pick 'em up in an identical car.'

Jez frowned. Maybe this Lennon character was right about Kev. Shit! How did he even know about Kev?

‘How d'yer know all that?'

‘I also know that Detective Inspector Cope is as bent as a nine bob note and your boss is arrangin' with him for ye to take a fall for them kids. I know so many things, Jez.'

It was the fact that this man even knew about Cope which held Jez's attention. Only Jez was supposed to know about him and he was sworn to secrecy under pain of execution. This Lennon guy was a man to be taken seriously.

‘What else d'yer know?'

‘Oh many things. They say ye killed a guy in the ring but what ye didn't know was that the dead guy had been taking steroids which affected his heart and that was the cause of his death.'

Sep had made that one up. He knew about the death in the ring but not about the steroids. He'd heard of such a thing happening and Fiona had told him all about Jez's past. ‘Ye didnae ken that, did ye?'

‘Maybe I did. So, what's all this bollocks about Formosa setting me up for a fall?'

‘It's nae bollocks, man. Formosa's gonna collect two mill for the wee kids and fit ye up wi' killin' them. Ye'll go down for it, leaving him no longer under suspicion by the polis. Formosa's a man who tidies up after himself, right enough. Life fer you wi' zero fuckin' parole – that's ma guess. Doin' time as a child killer's the worst kind o' time, as ye probably know yerself.'

Jez gave this much thought. It definitely sounded like something Vince might do. He knew all about Dench and his whore girlfriend.'

‘And you're here ter help me are yer?'

‘Well, ye definitely need help from someone.'

‘And do I need ter pay for this help?'

‘Well, I like to be paid by exchange of information. For example, the information I require is the whereabouts of the Strathmore children. If I get that, it'll get Formosa off the streets for good thereby making your life much healthier.'

Jez clenched his fists and glared at Sep, who held his gaze. ‘How do I know this isn't all fuckin' lies just ter get information outa me?'

‘Ye know I'm telling the truth about Cope and about the guy ye killed in the ring and about Kev Clarkson. How would I know about that? How would I know ye know where the kids are? How do I know these things, Jez?'

‘This is shit! What's ter stop me knockin' fuck outa you right now?'

‘Me,' said Sep, calmly. ‘I were trained in the army – Special Forces. I know twenty-seven ways te kill a man and you were just a boxer.'

Jez looked Sep up and down. ‘Army trained? What army was that – the Salvation Army?'

‘Don't let the whiskers fool ye. I'm a bit past ma best but I'm not in bad shape. Yer way past your best. I reckon I could take ye, as big as y'are. Trouble is, I take ye, I might kill ye, or we end up enemies, both wi' pain and broken bones. I don't want that. I'm here on business.'

Jez's face relaxed into something slightly more amenable. He shook his head in confusion and got to his feet. Sep sat there and watched him walk around the room; a man troubled by what he'd been told, unaware they were mainly lies, albeit reinforced by an injection of the truth that Sep knew about Cole's association with Formosa.

What Jez needed was one more piece of impressive information to bring him over to Sep's side. Sep could see the man was deeply troubled and desperate for help, but he also needed to be sure the help was genuine. Jez, confused and deeply worried by his desperate situation, turned his back on Sep and began walking up and down the room. He was walking away from Sep when he spun on his heels and pointed at him.

‘OK, what else?' he said. ‘What else d'yer know what can help me?'

‘Well, I know ye've lost Formosa's car.'

Jez was astounded. ‘Jesus fucking Christ! How the fuck d'yer know that?'

‘I might even know where it is,' Sep said it casually as if it were information of no great moment, then added, ‘given enough incentive te go out and find it.'

‘What?'

‘Ye asked me if I knew of anything else that might help ye. I imagine getting Formosa's car back might ease things for ye in the short term – until he comes to fit y'up as a child killer. I cannae help ye wi' that. Ye can only help yeself wi' that.'

‘How the fuck d'yer know about the car?'

‘Man, I keep tellin' ye! It's ma business to know things.'

Sep's muscles were tensed in case Jez lost it and launched an attack on him. His story would only wash with a man grasping at straws, a man desperate to believe anything that might get him out of the deep hole he was in. Sep looked up and saw a red-faced mountain of rage and despair, so he now spoke in the friendliest of tones.

‘Come on, man. Neither of us want te see the wee children killed so that Formosa can keep lining his pockets. Ye not a child killer, surely?'

‘No, I'm fuckin' not!'

‘Tell me where the kids are, Jez, and I can straighten ye life out, man.'

‘Why d'yer wanna know?'

‘If ye must know I'm working for their father, and if you tell me what I want te know I'll also be workin' fer you insofar as I'll be making sure they lock that bastard Formosa away fer the rest of his unnatural life.'

‘Why? What's he done to you?'

‘When I was down in the Smoke he fitted me up with an armed robbery that was nothing te do with me. I did six years fer the bastard. No man whoever worked for him came out on top.'

Sep was fairly certain this last bit was true and he hoped Jez would think it to be true as well. He added: ‘Do you know of any man who made a success of working for Formosa? Any man who lived to enjoy his money?'

Jez couldn't think of anyone, but it didn't occur to him that this question might be asked of any criminal gang boss without producing a positive answer. Gang bosses didn't work for the welfare of their employees.

‘Where are the kids, Jez?'

‘Yer know where the Bentley is do yer?'

‘I know who to ask.'

‘You bring me the car and we'll talk about where the kids are.'

‘This is something of an impasse, Jez. How do I know that ye won't just drive off in the car and tell me nothing? My alternative is to go to one of the other guys who knows where they are and bollocks to the car. Mebbe I'll try Kev Clarkson. I reckon he'll be easier te crack than you.'

Jez looked unhappy at this suggestion. He was at his tipping point and just needed a nudge. Sep looked around the room and spotted a boxing trophy on top of a shelf. He pointed to it.

‘I take it that's something from your boxing days.'

‘Yorkshire ABA heavyweight champion,' said Jez. ‘I won that when I was eighteen years old. Youngest ever senior champion.'

‘Never really made it as a pro, though, eh?'

‘Wi' better management and a decent trainer I could have done well.'

‘Tell ye what. Let me take that cup. I'll be back tomorrow wi' a photo of it on ma wee camera, standing on the bonnet of the Bentley just te prove I've found it. I'll also let ye in on Formosa's plan te fit ye up as the kiddies' murderer.'

‘This guy who took the car,' said Jez. ‘He'll let you walk in and take it from under his nose, will he?'

‘He will if it's who I think it is. I'll tell him that Formosa will definitely find out who nicked his Bentley and the best thing he can do is hand it over to me and I'll get it back without Formosa ever knowing it was taken.'

This sounded immensely plausible, especially to a man in as much trouble as Jez. Sep pressed on by imparting more baffling knowledge.

‘Your alternative is to tell yer boss that ye lost his pet car while ye were out fishing and take what comes – and the best of luck wi' that.'

‘How the fuck d'yer know I were fishin'?'

‘I'm a man of unusual knowledge and talent, Jez. To the extent that I can tell y'of a much better place on that river to fish. A place where ye can catch a nine pound barbel without much problem. Have y'ever caught a nine pound barbel, Jez?'

Jez shook his head and sat back down. His senses completely defeated by this tramp-on-a-bike who had come to his door and baffled him with so much dangerous knowledge. He certainly wouldn't put it past Vince to fit him up with the kids' murder. He didn't hold with killing kids and this way he could stop their murder and save himself a life stretch.
If this tramp were to be believed
. Shit! There was something believable about the man; something assured; something that belied his appearance. Jez felt he could trust him. Jesus! He'd lost Vince's car which was a death sentence in itself. What the hell else did he have to lose?

‘How much do you get from the father?'

‘Enough to give ye ten grand.'

It was another lie but it was Sep's final card.

‘How do I know I'll get it?'

‘We're playing a trust game here, Jez. It's probably not a game y'ever played before but I make all my connections by being a man of ma word. People trust me, as will you after this is over.'

Jez hung his head and thought long and hard about what to say. ‘OK,' he said, at length, ‘you bring me that photo and I'll take you to where they are, then you take me to the car. But you didn't get any of this from me.'

‘No problem,' said Sep. ‘Are the children guarded?'

‘No, they're locked up tight. A man takes them food once a day.'

‘That will probably be about noon or thereabouts?'

‘I would think so.'

Sep left it until the next afternoon before turning up with a video rather than a photograph. It might have aroused suspicion had he turned up with it too quickly. Jez peered at it and saw the car number plate, then the camera pulled back to reveal Jimmy Lennon in all his scruffiness standing by the car, holding Jez's boxing cup.

‘Right,' Jez said, ‘about Vince fitting me up. How's he gonna do that?'

‘Well, he'll nae be doing that when I get the kids. No dead bairns te frame ye with.'

‘Oh … right.'

‘If ye must know, the cops have a sneaky way of transferrin' fingerprints using an adhesive lifter and transferrin' 'em on to a surface sprayed wi' a chemical called ninhydrin. Cope's an expert at it and he's already taken ye prints off the Bentley and he's ready te transfer them on to the gun that was supposed to have killed the children.'

In fact the expert at this was Sep who had only used it once to persuade a killer to confess to a murder that Sep was certain he'd committed, in the hope of getting a reduced sentence. The man confessed to many murders, justifying Sep's illegal subterfuge, insofar as he'd taken a serial killer off the streets.

‘The bastards!' said Jez, looking at his fingers.

‘Vince wants rids of you,' said Sep.

‘Why?'

‘You've been with him too long and you know too much. Like I said, how many of his men live long enough to enjoy their money? Formosa killed Dench because Dench was informing on Formosa to Cope who's in Formosa's pay. You won't be in any danger if you turn Queen's Evidence, with you being in a safe house.'

‘You mean go to court and give evidence against Vince?'

‘It's the only way you'll get him off your back, unless ye want to kill him yourself. By the way, did ye realize the Bentley's registered in your name and at your address?'

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