The Crooked Beat by Nick Quantrill Page A

time.’
    ‘Do you think it was to do with rugby?’
    I didn’t have an answer. ‘It could have been.’ I knew she meant well, but it was stirring up too many bad memories. I didn’t want to talk about it.
    Sarah stood up. ‘You’ll understand, then. I need to know what happened to my dad.’ She paused for a moment. ‘And if it’s going to get any worse.’
     
    The bar grew increasingly busy as the night went on. My mood changed when I saw George Sutherland making his way through the crowd towards me. I hadn’t spent much time trying to sort the cigarette problem out.
    He pointed at me as he approached. ‘I want a word with you.’
    I didn’t respond. The people standing close to me started to drift away.
    ‘I thought it was time we had a catch-up about our mutual business interests,’ he said.
    I shook my head. ‘It’s not convenient.’
    ‘I think it is.’ He beckoned me closer. ‘We can do this the easy way or the hard way.’
    He glanced over to the door where Carl Palmer was standing and smiled. ‘Come for a drive with us or I’ll need to have a word with that brother of yours.’
     
    I got into Sutherland’s car. We headed down Spring Bank and crossed the city centre, picking up speed as we hit Hedon Road. There was little traffic on the road heading east. I asked where we were going, but received no answer.
    Sutherland waved the question away. ‘Any news for me?’
    I told him I had nothing new.
    ‘Not much of a detective, are you?’
    ‘Probably not.’
    ‘I want my money, Geraghty.’
    I didn’t reply. We passed the docks and Sutherland spoke again. ‘What do you think to all this green technology shit they keep banging on about, then? Might even make a more suitable career for you if you’re lucky.’
    Palmer laughed at his boss’s joke.
    ‘Who knows?’ I said.
    We lapsed back into silence and slowed down as we pulled off Hedon Road. We headed past the flattened site of Fenners and took a right turn at the Preston Road traffic lights.
    Sutherland spoke. ‘We need a word with someone. Seems like he hasn’t learned his lesson, either.’
    ‘Who?’
    He smiled. ‘Another debtor.’
    Palmer pulled off the main road and drove slowly down a dense road of terraced houses. Every speed bump he hit acted as a punch to my stomach. I realised that I’d been here recently. Palmer pulled up and Sutherland told me to get out of the car. I thought briefly about refusing, but it would be pointless. Whatever was about to happen, I was going to have to be a part of it.
    Sutherland knocked on the door, took a step backwards and waited. I was looking at the neighbour’s house. They were either in bed or out. They certainly weren’t going to challenge three men banging on a door at this hour. Sutherland knocked again, louder this time. When the door was opened, Sutherland stepped to one side and let Palmer take his place. Palmer didn’t wait to be invited in, instead forcing his way through into the house.
    ‘After you,’ Sutherland said to me.
    I did as I was told and followed them into the living room. Terry Gillespie was already on the floor, Palmer standing over him. Sutherland nodded and Palmer dragged Gillespie up before throwing another punch, this one breaking Gillespie’s nose. The smell in the room was disgusting. It had been takeaway pizza and cheap lager for tea. Sutherland picked up a chair from the dining table and placed it in the middle of the room. I kept myself out of Gillespie’s eye-line. I didn’t know how he’d react to seeing me. Palmer threw another punch and Gillespie’s head lolled to one side. He took a length of rope out of his pocket and tied Gillespie to the chair. I looked away as Palmer continued to beat him.
    It stopped when Sutherland spoke. ‘You let me down, Terry.’
    Gillespie could barely focus. He didn’t answer.
    ‘If you can’t pay me back, you need to make it up to me.’
    Gillespie smiled. ‘Fuck you.’
    Sutherland sighed and stepped aside.