Nick Oldham - Substantial Threat

It was at that moment she realized the conversation they were having was taking place on the doorstep. ‘Ooh, sorry.’ She grinned. ‘Manners! Come on in and I’ll make a drink or something.’

Henry followed her inside. She led him into the lounge, which was furnished in such a way that he thought it looked like it might once have been the show house. It was a through lounge and in the dining room Henry saw an exercise bike and a rowing machine side by side.

‘Tea, coffee. .?’

‘Tea’ll be great.’

‘Tell you what, come through to the kitchen and we can keep talking, though I doubt I’ll be able to help you any more than I already did. It was a real tragedy, but it was a long time ago.’

She walked through to the spacious fitted kitchen and clicked on the kettle.

‘We haven’t caught the killer yet,’ Henry admitted, harking back to her question at the doorway. ‘I’ve been given the job of reviewing the case again to see if I can open up any new leads, that sort of thing, y’know?’

‘Oh.’ She leaned against a worktop, her hips thrusting forward. ‘I always thought that if a case wasn’t solved, it got closed down.’

‘No, not with a murder.’ He locked eyes with her — and he had to admit she had pretty eyes — but something grabbed his heart with icicle-like fingers and made him go on to say, even though he did not necessarily believe his own words, ‘I think there’s a good chance of rooting out the killer in this case.’ He squinted thoughtfully at the ceiling and added, ‘Particularly as it’s been given to me to investigate. It’s a matter of pride, you see. I’m very good at catching murderers.’ He came eye to eye with her again.

Jack Burrows nodded. Henry thought she looked a tad uncomfortable at the news. This pleased him no end because for no other reason than she was the owner of the property in which a brutal crime had been committed, he had made her his first suspect.

‘Two-fifty and certainly not more than three hundred quid at the outside,’ JJ had to admit. ‘Honest, that’s all it was. I skimmed a bit here and a bit there, and I’m sorry, but it were never two grand. Nowhere fuckin’ near. That sorta figure is one you’d’ve noticed, Ray. That would’ve been stupid.’

Cragg guffawed. ‘Two-fifty or three hundred is pretty bloody stupid,’ he observed, ‘and I think you’re a stupid person, JJ. Stupid enough to have a bad habit which clouds your judgement, makes you think you can steal from me, and now you’re stupid enough to expect me to believe you only took a fraction of what you really took.’

‘I’m being honest with you, Ray,’ JJ insisted, opening his arms.

Cragg snorted a laugh of contempt through his nose and stood up.

Carrie was still doubled up on the carpet in one corner of the room, moaning and shivering. There were streaks of blood on the wall next to her.

Marty and Crazy lounged by the door, hands in pockets, waiting for Ray to come to some sort of decision. Crazy was the more relaxed of the two, chewing gum and picking at a large spot on his face. Marty seemed restless, more eager for something to happen, his foot tapped agitatedly.

Ray crossed to the window out of which JJ had tried to escape. He folded his arms and gazed quietly out across the rooftops of a nearby housing estate, then down to the deserted play area four floors below. It was tempting to lean on the windowsill but he did not. He was always careful to leave as few traces of himself anywhere as possible.

‘You could’ve come to me and asked for cash,’ he said eventually. ‘We could’ve sorted something and you wouldn’t now find yourself in this. . pickle, would you?’

Despite the shakes and the booming sound still rattling around his cranium, JJ had managed to roll a replacement cigarette, which was now lighted and affixed to his bottom lip.

‘I didn’t think, man,’ he wailed plaintively. ‘It won’t happen again. I swear it on my goddaughter’s life.’

‘Bloody right it won’t happen again,’ Marty interjected, taking a step towards JJ, who cowered back in the settee. He knew Marty was a dangerous, sometimes uncontrollable bastard.

Ray spun on his half-brother, pointed at him and shot him a stare which stopped him in his tracks. He did not have to utter a word. Marty’s face creased angrily.

‘Normally,’ Ray said to JJ, half an eye on Marty, ‘I deal very harshly with people who shit on me.’

JJ tore his eyes from Marty. ‘I know.’ He swallowed.

‘But I’m actually feeling a bit lenient today — with you, that is.’

JJ held his breath, his lungs full of the harsh smoke from the filterless roll-up.

‘You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you, Ray?’ Marty said. ‘He needs dealing with good and proper.’

Ray ignored him and smiled briefly at JJ.

‘This is the first and last time, JJ. You skim from me again and you’re a dead man.’

JJ closed his eyes, relief flooding through him.

‘Jesus! You’re letting the twat off!’ Marty wailed, shaking his head despondently. ‘He’s fuckin’ stolen from you.’

‘My money, my decision,’ Ray said, ‘so shut the fuck up.’ He spoke to JJ again. ‘If you need any extra dosh, ask me, don’t just take it. We’ll work something out.’

‘Thanks, Ray, oh God, thanks.’

Ray sat down next to JJ again, placing an arm around his shoulders — again.

‘I do not believe this,’ Marty tutted.

‘Y’see,’ Ray said, his lips only inches away from JJ’s bad ear. ‘I’m not that bad.’ He gave him a squeeze. ‘There is one thing I’m curious about, though.’

‘What’s that?’

‘If you didn’t skim two grand off me, who did?’

Henry had followed Jack Burrows back through her house into the lounge. He sat on the expensive soft leather settee, sinking so quickly into it he was caught off balance and almost spilled his tea.

Burrows smiled. ‘Always gets people, that.’

‘Mm,’ murmured Henry doubtfully and sipped the hot drink while studying her face carefully, but surreptitiously. There was something familiar about her. He had an exceptional mind when it came to recalling names and faces, rarely forgetting either, but his recall of her was slightly skewed and out of all context. He frowned. ‘I know your face, but I’m struggling to place you,’ he admitted.

‘Sounds like a chat-up line.’

‘If I wasn’t investigating a murder, it would be,’ he said. Then he made the connection in his mind: murder. . body. . death. . ‘I’ve got it,’ he said with a hint of triumph. A sudden death, two, no, three years ago. . a suicide. The deceased had taken a shed-load of pills and not been discovered for about a week or so and had started to rot nicely, thank you. Henry had gone to the death as a matter of routine, but there had been nothing for the CID. Nothing suspicious in it. Henry had happened to be at the scene when the body remover arrived. ‘You’re an undertaker,’ he declared.

‘I’ve had enough of this shit now,’ Ray Cragg said bluntly. ‘You can go.’

‘You mean it?’ JJ said in disbelief.

‘Oh, c’mon, Ray,’ Marty whined. ‘You’re not gonna let him go, are you? Let’s break a few fuckin’ fingers at least. Twat deserves it.’

Ray scowled at Marty. ‘Yes, you can go, JJ,’ but then he pointed to the open window. ‘But you’ve got to go that way. I want to see you climb down the wall. You must be just like Spiderman.’

‘Eh?’ JJ said suspiciously.

‘You heard. I said you can go, but you’ve got to climb out of the window, just like you were doing when we came in.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘Never joke. If you want to go, that’s the way you’re going to have to do it, otherwise I’ll let Marty and Crazy give you a few digs and a few broken bones.’