stunned at what was unfolding. ‘So you were using a false name, you’re not Kevin at all?’
‘I’m Kevin all right, but not Kevin Jones. That was a name I took on when I moved here, had a bit of trouble in Cardiff when I was a young lad, decided to leave it behind me, you know yourself.’
Tom was angry. ‘I don’t know myself, am I the mug here, will I have to take the rap for your dodgy dealings?’
‘Now hang on a minute, you were doing very nicely for the last year, more money than you ever made in your life. Did you think it was all kosher? You were in on the clocking every week, yourself and mad Myles, well able to take the fucking money. Don’t lecture me about dodgy dealing.’
‘Ok, ok, but you were the one making the really big bucks, I know what you were making on the caper, twenty grand a day sometimes. I must have been thick. What am I going to do?’
Kevin pulled a roll of notes from his pocket. ‘How much do I owe you for last week, roughly?’
Tom went through the sales he had made since Monday, adding the commissions in his head. ‘About two grand, give or take, including the finance commissions.’
Kevin counted off bills from the roll. ‘Here’s the two and another five, get yourself out of here for a couple of months, lie low for a while and it will blow over. They’ll just figure you as an employee; they’ll lose interest after a while. Don’t ever mention what I said about me having another name, ok?’
Tom was still in shock at the turn of events, and his head was throbbing from the effects of last night. ‘What do you mean, where would I go?’
‘I don’t know, go off to Spain for a couple of months, take a holiday, lie in the sun and meet a few nice chicks, just keep out of here for a while.’
Tom pondered the situation, it sounded attractive in one way. He hadn’t had a holiday in the year he had worked for Kevin, and the flat was rented, he could be out of there today, leave his stuff with Walter. Suddenly the day looked brighter.
‘Ok, I’ll do it, get a flight to somewhere in Spain and chill out for a while. The weather is miserable here now anyway, a change of scene will do me good.’
‘Good man. I’m heading away on the next ferry, don’t tell anyone you saw me, tell them you are off this week if you are stopped by anyone.’
He held out his hand, and he seemed genuinely regretful.
‘Good luck, Tom, you’re the best I ever saw, bloody great salesman, pure natural. I’m sorry it’s all gone pear-shaped, but good luck to you whatever you do.’
Tom felt no animosity towards Kevin; at least he had paid him and not done a runner on him like old Milton. In fact he would miss the mad bastard and the excitement of working in the yard. ‘Mind yourself, you daft Taffy bugger, and stay ahead of the posse.’
Tom slept late after a restless night; in the morning he went to a travel agency in the city and bought a ticket to Malaga. He caught a bus back to the yard and got off at the stop at the corner and then walked back to see if Willie was about. The gate was locked and he peered through the fence to see if there was any sign of life around by the shed.
He hadn’t noticed the dark blue car parked by the kerb, and he jumped when the man got out and spoke to him.
‘Tom, is your name Tom, do you work here?’
He knew immediately that the man was a cop; he had that cleancut look about him. He shook his head.
‘No, I was wondering if they were open, I want to buy a car.’
‘No, they seem to be closed today. You don’t work here then?’
‘No, of course not.’ Tom’s legs were shaking. ‘I need a new car, just thought I’d see what they had.’
The policeman looked him up and down, and then got back in his car. Tom could see that he wasn’t fully convinced, and he just wanted to get out of there before the cop radioed someone for a description. He skipped quickly across the street between the moving cars and flagged down a taxi going back
‘I’m Kevin all right, but not Kevin Jones. That was a name I took on when I moved here, had a bit of trouble in Cardiff when I was a young lad, decided to leave it behind me, you know yourself.’
Tom was angry. ‘I don’t know myself, am I the mug here, will I have to take the rap for your dodgy dealings?’
‘Now hang on a minute, you were doing very nicely for the last year, more money than you ever made in your life. Did you think it was all kosher? You were in on the clocking every week, yourself and mad Myles, well able to take the fucking money. Don’t lecture me about dodgy dealing.’
‘Ok, ok, but you were the one making the really big bucks, I know what you were making on the caper, twenty grand a day sometimes. I must have been thick. What am I going to do?’
Kevin pulled a roll of notes from his pocket. ‘How much do I owe you for last week, roughly?’
Tom went through the sales he had made since Monday, adding the commissions in his head. ‘About two grand, give or take, including the finance commissions.’
Kevin counted off bills from the roll. ‘Here’s the two and another five, get yourself out of here for a couple of months, lie low for a while and it will blow over. They’ll just figure you as an employee; they’ll lose interest after a while. Don’t ever mention what I said about me having another name, ok?’
Tom was still in shock at the turn of events, and his head was throbbing from the effects of last night. ‘What do you mean, where would I go?’
‘I don’t know, go off to Spain for a couple of months, take a holiday, lie in the sun and meet a few nice chicks, just keep out of here for a while.’
Tom pondered the situation, it sounded attractive in one way. He hadn’t had a holiday in the year he had worked for Kevin, and the flat was rented, he could be out of there today, leave his stuff with Walter. Suddenly the day looked brighter.
‘Ok, I’ll do it, get a flight to somewhere in Spain and chill out for a while. The weather is miserable here now anyway, a change of scene will do me good.’
‘Good man. I’m heading away on the next ferry, don’t tell anyone you saw me, tell them you are off this week if you are stopped by anyone.’
He held out his hand, and he seemed genuinely regretful.
‘Good luck, Tom, you’re the best I ever saw, bloody great salesman, pure natural. I’m sorry it’s all gone pear-shaped, but good luck to you whatever you do.’
Tom felt no animosity towards Kevin; at least he had paid him and not done a runner on him like old Milton. In fact he would miss the mad bastard and the excitement of working in the yard. ‘Mind yourself, you daft Taffy bugger, and stay ahead of the posse.’
Tom slept late after a restless night; in the morning he went to a travel agency in the city and bought a ticket to Malaga. He caught a bus back to the yard and got off at the stop at the corner and then walked back to see if Willie was about. The gate was locked and he peered through the fence to see if there was any sign of life around by the shed.
He hadn’t noticed the dark blue car parked by the kerb, and he jumped when the man got out and spoke to him.
‘Tom, is your name Tom, do you work here?’
He knew immediately that the man was a cop; he had that cleancut look about him. He shook his head.
‘No, I was wondering if they were open, I want to buy a car.’
‘No, they seem to be closed today. You don’t work here then?’
‘No, of course not.’ Tom’s legs were shaking. ‘I need a new car, just thought I’d see what they had.’
The policeman looked him up and down, and then got back in his car. Tom could see that he wasn’t fully convinced, and he just wanted to get out of there before the cop radioed someone for a description. He skipped quickly across the street between the moving cars and flagged down a taxi going back
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