trouble. I took a risk, but he’s never forgotten it.
‘Sheepshagger! What do you want?’ he greeted me.
‘Hiya, baboon features. How did you know I wanted something?’
‘You always want something. I haven’t seen you since you hit the big time bustin’ that drugs gang.’
‘Ah, the ABC gang, Mr Cakebread and his pals.Those were the days. You know where I live, Jimmy; you’re welcome to call in with a bottle any time. Bring a tin of salmon and I’ll make you a sandwich.’
‘I’ll pass, if you don’t mind, Charlie. I don’t want to be around when someone puts a bomb under your car.’
‘When I woke up this morning there was a horse’s head in my bed.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘It was a right bugger trying to get the milk float back down the stairs. Listen, I didn’t have to come to you. I’ve got other friends I haven’t used yet.’ I told him what the problem was and he was with me in fifteen minutes. After casting an expert eye under the Nissan he declared: ‘It needs what we technicians call a twenty mil. socket. Won’t be a mo.’
I collected a few plastic bags out of my boot and gave them to him. ‘Put as much of the mud as you can in these, please. I’ll stand at the gate and watch for the owner corning back.’
Jimmy looked at me in alarm. ‘You mean he doesn’t know you’re doing this?’
‘No.’
‘Chuffin’ ’eck. ’Ave you got a warrant?’
‘No. Get on with it.’
‘Chuffin’ ’eck. Does this make me an accessory after the fact?’
‘No, just an accessory’
‘What’s the difference?’
‘It’s more serious.’
‘Chuffin’ ’eck.’
Jimmy sprawled on the ground at the back of the vehicle and I stood at the gate looking down towards the Penistone Road. A few big blobs of rain made dark spots on the pavement. Right on cue, the white shark-nose of the Toyota came into view, paused in the middle of the road for a moment while the traffic cleared, then swung into the lane.
‘Jimmy! He’s here,’ I called. ‘Pack up quick! Pretend you’ve been messing with my car.’
I walked into the road to stall Dewhurst. Fortunately Jimmy’s van was blocking the entrance to the drive, so he’d have to wait until it was moved before he could go in.
The Supra came to a silent halt and the nearside window slid down. I squatted on my heels so that my face was level with it and Dewhurst leant across.
‘What’s happened? Has something happened?’ he asked. He sounded agitated.
‘No, Mr Dewhurst, nothing’s happened. I’m sorry to startle you like this. I just called in to see you, but when I tried to start the car again it wouldn’t work. I sent for a mechanic and he’s just fixing it. He won’t be long. Have you heard anything?’
He hadn’t. I asked him if Maggie had spoken tohim today. I knew that she rang him early every morning and tried to see him in the evening. He was full of praise for her, and said he was grateful for the support she was giving Mrs Eaglin. After a few minutes Jimmy joined us. He did well.
‘It’s fixed, Mr Priest. Will there be anything else?’
‘Not for now, Jimmy. Thanks a lot. Will you send me a bill, please?’
‘It’ll be in the post tomorrow. Will you, er, be needing a VAT receipt or will it be, er, cash?’
Cheeky sod. He moved his van and the Supra turned silently into the drive, as if driven by electricity. The garage door swung up and Dewhurst drove straight in. When he joined me again he was carrying a fat briefcase. After a few flashes and beeps the garage door closed itself and we went into the house.
Dewhurst hung his jacket on a hanger, filled the kettle and flopped into an easy chair, gesturing towards another for me.
I sat down and said: ‘I thought I’d come to tell you that Barclay’s bank are holding the money for us. As soon as you hear anything else we can have it over here.’
‘The full half-million?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Genuine money?’
‘The real stuff. It’s being
‘Sheepshagger! What do you want?’ he greeted me.
‘Hiya, baboon features. How did you know I wanted something?’
‘You always want something. I haven’t seen you since you hit the big time bustin’ that drugs gang.’
‘Ah, the ABC gang, Mr Cakebread and his pals.Those were the days. You know where I live, Jimmy; you’re welcome to call in with a bottle any time. Bring a tin of salmon and I’ll make you a sandwich.’
‘I’ll pass, if you don’t mind, Charlie. I don’t want to be around when someone puts a bomb under your car.’
‘When I woke up this morning there was a horse’s head in my bed.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘It was a right bugger trying to get the milk float back down the stairs. Listen, I didn’t have to come to you. I’ve got other friends I haven’t used yet.’ I told him what the problem was and he was with me in fifteen minutes. After casting an expert eye under the Nissan he declared: ‘It needs what we technicians call a twenty mil. socket. Won’t be a mo.’
I collected a few plastic bags out of my boot and gave them to him. ‘Put as much of the mud as you can in these, please. I’ll stand at the gate and watch for the owner corning back.’
Jimmy looked at me in alarm. ‘You mean he doesn’t know you’re doing this?’
‘No.’
‘Chuffin’ ’eck. ’Ave you got a warrant?’
‘No. Get on with it.’
‘Chuffin’ ’eck. Does this make me an accessory after the fact?’
‘No, just an accessory’
‘What’s the difference?’
‘It’s more serious.’
‘Chuffin’ ’eck.’
Jimmy sprawled on the ground at the back of the vehicle and I stood at the gate looking down towards the Penistone Road. A few big blobs of rain made dark spots on the pavement. Right on cue, the white shark-nose of the Toyota came into view, paused in the middle of the road for a moment while the traffic cleared, then swung into the lane.
‘Jimmy! He’s here,’ I called. ‘Pack up quick! Pretend you’ve been messing with my car.’
I walked into the road to stall Dewhurst. Fortunately Jimmy’s van was blocking the entrance to the drive, so he’d have to wait until it was moved before he could go in.
The Supra came to a silent halt and the nearside window slid down. I squatted on my heels so that my face was level with it and Dewhurst leant across.
‘What’s happened? Has something happened?’ he asked. He sounded agitated.
‘No, Mr Dewhurst, nothing’s happened. I’m sorry to startle you like this. I just called in to see you, but when I tried to start the car again it wouldn’t work. I sent for a mechanic and he’s just fixing it. He won’t be long. Have you heard anything?’
He hadn’t. I asked him if Maggie had spoken tohim today. I knew that she rang him early every morning and tried to see him in the evening. He was full of praise for her, and said he was grateful for the support she was giving Mrs Eaglin. After a few minutes Jimmy joined us. He did well.
‘It’s fixed, Mr Priest. Will there be anything else?’
‘Not for now, Jimmy. Thanks a lot. Will you send me a bill, please?’
‘It’ll be in the post tomorrow. Will you, er, be needing a VAT receipt or will it be, er, cash?’
Cheeky sod. He moved his van and the Supra turned silently into the drive, as if driven by electricity. The garage door swung up and Dewhurst drove straight in. When he joined me again he was carrying a fat briefcase. After a few flashes and beeps the garage door closed itself and we went into the house.
Dewhurst hung his jacket on a hanger, filled the kettle and flopped into an easy chair, gesturing towards another for me.
I sat down and said: ‘I thought I’d come to tell you that Barclay’s bank are holding the money for us. As soon as you hear anything else we can have it over here.’
‘The full half-million?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Genuine money?’
‘The real stuff. It’s being
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