Reginald Hill - Killing the Lawyers

‘We’ve got the fastest boards and the most generous indoor bends in Europe,’ boasted Hardiman. ‘They’ll soon catch on, anyone after a world record, Luton’s the only place to be. There’s Zak down there.’

Joe had already spotted the girl sitting at a table on the lowest tier with three people, two men and a woman. These three were drinking coffee. Zak was sucking on a bottle of her beloved Bloo-Joo which she removed from her mouth and waved as they approached.

‘Hi, Joe,’ she said. ‘Glad you could make it. You guys, this is Joe I was telling you about. Joe, meet my sister Mary, my agent Doug Endor, and my coach, Abe Schoenfeld.’

Schoenfeld was late twenties, athletic of build and glistening with what looked like spray-on health. He said, ‘Hi, Joe,’ in a Clint Eastwood accent. Endor, who was about thirty, tall, craggily handsome, and wearing an eat-your-heart-out-paupers mohair suit, offered his hand and said, ‘Glad to know you, Joe.’ Sister Mary didn’t even look at him. She was shorter than Joe and muscularly built. He tried to see a resemblance to Zak and couldn’t.

‘Grab a seat, Joe,’ said Zak.

He sat. Hardiman said, ‘Catch you later, Joe,’ and walked away.

Sulking because he hadn’t been asked to stay? Or maybe you didn’t invite directors to sit in their own sports centres.

‘So tell me, Joe, what’s your line?’ said Abe Schoenfeld.

Joe glanced uneasily at Zak. She’d intro’d him as Joe I was telling you about . Presumably she’d given the agreed story about taking pity on the out-of-work uncle of an old friend. But what work was he out of?

Zak said, ‘Abe means, what’s your physical thing, Joe. He reckons everyone is some sort of athlete, even if it’s only second-hand.’

‘Like watching, you mean?’ said Joe. ‘I’ve got a season ticket for the Town.’

‘That’s soccer, right? You play?’

‘Used to kick a ball around when I was at school.’

‘But not now? Nothing else? Tennis? Maybe not. Rock climbing? Swimming?’

‘Go to a judo class,’ he said.

‘Knew there was something,’ said Schoenfeld. ‘You can always tell the guys who haven’t dropped right through. You should do weights. Right body shape, good shoulders, heavy legs.’

‘You’re right about the legs,’ said Joe. ‘Feel heavier every time I go upstairs.’

‘Abe is always looking for new talent,’ laughed Zak. ‘OK, you guys, I’m going to show Joe around, let him know what he’s going to be doing.’

She stood up. Joe followed suit. So did Mary.

Endor said, ‘Mary, doll, spare a mo? Couple of fings I need to talk over.’

Professional Cockney, Hardiman had said. Sounded real enough to Joe.

‘I’ll be back in the office next week,’ said Mary coldly. ‘Just now I’m on vacation, remember?’

She walked away with the faintest hint of a limp.

‘Mary works for your agent, does she?’ asked Joe as he followed Zak out of the restaurant area.

‘That’s right. Why do you ask?’

‘No reason,’ said Joe, surprised by the sharpness of her tone, ‘She don’t look very happy.’

‘Well, that’s her business, wouldn’t you say?’ said Zak coldly.

Joe took a deep breath. One of the early maxims in the so far very slim Joe Sixsmith Book of Advice to Would-be Detectives was, if you’re going to quarrel with your client, get it over with before the bill mounts up.

‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s my business if I’m going to work for you. I need to be able to ask you anything I like and get a straight answer.’

There it was. She was frowning. She was a nice kid but seeing her with her entourage had underlined that she was also, if not yet a queen, certainly a princess getting used to the deference of her own court.

Could be it was off-with-his-head time.

Instead she suddenly smiled and said, ‘OK. You do the press-ups or you change your coach. Right?’

‘Sounds reasonable,’ said Joe. ‘Talking of which, you did change your coach last summer. Or rather by going to America you cut off your connection with Hardiman. Any hard feelings?’

Always best to get all versions of a story.

‘You’ve been reading the wrong papers, Joe,’ she said. ‘No, it was pretty painless, the right move for both of us at the right time.’

‘Well, that was handy,’ said Joe.

‘Things sometimes work like that,’ said Zak, with all the confidence of one who hadn’t yet received too many half bricks in the neck from life. ‘If we hadn’t stayed good friends, you don’t think I’d be here now? When Jim heard I was coming home for Christmas, it was him got the idea of boosting the official opening of the Plezz by having an athletics meeting with me running an exhibition. I wouldn’t have done it for anybody else.’

‘How did Abe react?’

‘No problem. He reckoned I’d be ready for a real tester about now.’

‘So this is a real race? Not just an exhibition run?’ Thinking, it would be a lot easier for you to ‘lose’ in a real race.

‘It’s a real race. Lots of top trackers who wouldn’t mind showing me their bums. Abe wouldn’t have come across if he didn’t think he was needed.’

‘He’s staying with you?’

‘No way,’ she laughed. ‘We’re all full up at home, and I try not to track my business into the house anyway. No, Abe’s very comfortable at the Kimberley.’

Joe whistled. ‘With their prices, I should hope he is.’

The Kimberley was one of Luton’s top hotels.

‘He says it’s OK,’ said Zak, coming to a halt and opening a door marked Women’s Locker Room . ‘Come on in. I’ve got the place to myself at the moment. This here’s my locker.’

‘Oh yes. Great. Nice locker.’

‘Where I found the second note,’ she said gently.

He examined it carefully because that’s what she seemed to expect him to do.

‘No sign of forcing,’ he said professionally.

‘No. I checked. What about fingerprints.’

‘Left the powder in the office,’ he said. Then, recalling another of his maxims, don’t get smart with the clients, he added, ‘What I mean is, no point. Key in, turn, pull open with the key, drop the note inside, push, turn, remove key, and you’re away without laying a finger on the door. Anyone else using the Dome before it officially opens?’

‘I know the Spartans, that’s my old club, have been using the track evenings for training to help it settle. Plus there’s the workmen putting finishing touches. Plus people using other bits of the Plezz could easily stroll in here. Shouldn’t you concentrate on who’s got access to the spare keys? Can’t be too many of them.’

Oh dear, thought Joe. Like a good princess, she wasn’t going to be shy about telling the help what they ought to be working at.

He said, ‘Got your key handy?’

She passed it over. Joe moved along the wall of metal lockers. They came in blocks of eight. Zak’s was second from the left. He counted two in the next block and inserted the key. The door opened. He did the same with the next block:

‘This way the manufacturers only need eight variations on locks and keys instead of an infinity,’ he explained.

‘But it’s lousy security!’ she protested angrily.

‘Saves ratepayers’ money,’ said Joe with civic sternness. ‘As for security, your crook’s got to work it out first.’

‘You worked it out,’ she said not unadmiringly.

‘That’s my job,’ he said modestly, not thinking it worthwhile to reveal that the lockers at Robco Engineering where he’d worked nearly twenty years had suffered from the same deficiency which he’d worked out after ten.

‘So that means there’s my key, and the duplicate key and the master key plus the keys for every second locker in every block in every changing room in the complex?’