“The charges against your man on the docks. I’m going to make them go away. He won’t need to say anything to anyone. He’ll keep quiet and what’s more, keep his job. You’re to leave him alone.”
“Detective Walsh, isn’t it?” Peters asked, not waiting for an answer, because he already knew. “I’m not quite sure who you think I am but let me tell you one thing about me. I am not the sort of person who takes the order. Far from it.”
“This isn’t an order,” Joseph explained, ignoring the knot in his stomach. “It’s a trade.”
“You see, now you have my attention,” Peters smiled. “What sort of trade?”
It wasn’t something that Joseph wanted to do, but he knew he had to. Everyone had told him as much, if not directly. Banks, Ray, even Dziko. They had all guided him to this decision and who was he to disagree with any of them? He could only do what they told him to, especially if it meant saving a life.
“I understand that people in your position sometimes need favours from inside the force. I will owe you a favour.”
“Just one?” Peters looked amused as he said it.
“That’s the deal.”
“And in exchange, I ignore Mr Wise’s indiscretion.”
Joseph’s legs weakened and for a moment he thought that he would pass out and fall to the floor. Harry Jones didn’t work for Peters. Garry Wise did. He tried to pull himself together, to remind himself that he was still saving someone. Probably two people. Peters was no fool. Sooner or later, he would have worked out that Garry Wise wasn’t the issue.
“You leave him alone. You never ask him to do anything for you again.”
“Well, that of course goes without saying. Mr Wise has shown his character to be lacking for the sort of tasks I might need him for. But I do have to wonder about your character. Whether or not this is something that I might regret in the long run. There is a saying after all, beware of Greeks bearing gifts.”
“I’ve never been to Greece, Mr Peters.”
Peters clapped his hands together and laughed. The laugh grew till he whooped with delight. “Oh, my dear detective, I dare say you have not. Fine, I think we can make that agreement stick, but I warn you. When I come calling, I will expect you to honour our agreement. Otherwise, both you and Mr Wise will find yourselves in my debt and both debts would have to be settled.”
“I won’t let you down,” Joseph said.
*
He didn’t drive far before he had to pull over and catch his breath again. His heart raced. He had known a lot of fear in his lifetime, but most of it had been immediate. This time would be different. This time the fear wasn’t in front of him. It was inside him. Lodged in the back of his mind, waiting to be unleashed.
38.
Gerald yawned. It had been a long day. He needed his bed. A double shift would do that to you, he thought as he leaned back against the warehouse, lighting a well overdue cigarette. Looking skyward he saw the stars creeping through the light haze made up from the smoke of countless London chimneys that had burned throughout the evening to keep homes warm. London had a lot going for it, he thought. But not the sky. Not at night. Not in the day. If there was one thing he really missed about home, it was the ability to look up and feel hopeful.
True, those hopes back home had always been about being in London. He always knew he was going to make his life there. When he’d sat out in the yard of his parents’ home in Barbados, looking up at the stars hadn’t been staring out into space. It had been looking into the future. The way they glistened, those tiny moments of light in an impossible darkness, didn’t cast his minds to other worlds. It kept him grounded on this one. He dreamed of London. His star in an eternal night. His salvation. Now he was here, what did he have to look to the stars and hope for? Everything else that was meant to be, would be.
He hoped it would be Janet. He really liked Janet. He knew he could love Janet. Gerald wasn’t foolish enough to think he had any say in that now. Janet would need to make that decision for them and until she did, he wasn’t going to let his heart go too hard. Even if he wanted to. As they said back home, ‘Egg ain’t got no right at rock-stone dance.’
“Here he is again.”
The sneer shattered Gerald from his day dreaming. He turned to see Derek. The man always looked angry. Today he looked worse.
“Boss man.” Gerald nodded at him seeing little point in saying much more. Derek would come over and have his rant. Then he would be done. That was just how he was.
“What did you call me?” Derek paced forward. “Are you mocking me, boy?”
Gerald pushed off from the wall, feeling his shoulders sink. Of all the things he couldn’t be bothered with right now, Derek’s racism was top of the list.
“Man, what’s up with you now?”
“You are, you bleeding lazy sod. You think there’s time to lean and have a cigarette right now? After the day we’ve had?”
“Hey, we all been working hard today. Ain’t no harm in having a quick smoke. I been doing inventory in here for a good couple of hours. You going to start criticising everyone for having a smoke, Derek?”
“Mr Nadderley.”
“Yeah, Mr Nadderley. For now.”
“What did you say? You think just because some pen pusher who spends less time in here than the bleeding Pope thinks you’re due a raise, that somehow makes me and you the same?” Derek had come right up to his face, nostrils flaring. Gerald had seen him angry before, but not this bad.
“So you got the letter then?” Gerald knew he shouldn’t have smiled as he said it, but something about Derek knowing that the two of them were about to be equals made all the name-calling, all the admonishments, all the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of this miserable creature in front of him worth it. With a bit of luck, he might even resign in protest, then someone Derek got on with could be promoted alongside him.
“You can shove your letter where the sun don’t shine. People like you aren’t capable of doing what I do.”
“What do you mean, people like me, Derek?”
“Bloody darkie bastards. You’re one step out of the bush, nothing more. You’re not built for this. Not got the faculties. You’re only there to hold the leash of the rest of your bloody monkey mates. You’ll fall on your arse before you know it and I’ll love every second of it.”
Gerald shook his head. No point taking this any further. He shook his head and laughed. “Ah Derek, behave, man.” He turned and started to walk away, entering back into the warehouse. As he did so, one final line formed in his head. He couldn’t resist the urge to say it, so he leaned back out of the door. “Hey, soon be you calling me boss man at this rate.”
Derek made a noise. Somewhere between a roar and a cry of anguish. Coming from him it sounded equally pathetic. Gerald laughed, shaking his head and turning away, heading back to work. He didn’t hear the feet behind him. Didn’t realise that Derek was coming for him. Not until the blow on the back of his head. His whole body stiffened and he fell. He panicked, trying to stop himself but his arms didn’t move. His face caught the floor side on, his head turned by the impact of whatever had just struck the back of his head. White flashes jumped before his eyes, like the stars in the night sky. They danced and flashed, appearing and disappearing at random. His sight failed. He felt something on him. Crushing his neck. He tried to kick, to struggle. The white stars grew larger. He felt his arms and legs fading away from him. As if dissolving into nothingness. Seconds later he followed them.
*
On Monday afternoon, Derek finally sat down with the two detectives and his lawyer.
