why do you always ask the same damn questions? You know why. You’re forgettable. No one notices you. No one even gives you a second glance.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean. You can handle yourself. Doesn’t matter who or what you come across, you treat them all the same. You don’t rush in there with your fists flying like everyone else I’ve got who could go.”
Bit of a backhanded compliment, but that’s as good as it gets with Hinchcliffe.
“So what’s your problem?”
“Little issue with the neighbors,” he says, grinning again. “There’s something going on down there, I’m sure of it. I’ve been talking to them for a while, trying to get them to pack up and come up here. Thing is, they wanted to stay where they were, so I figured I’d keep them with us and let them get the place organized for me, then get in there and annex them.”
“I take it things aren’t going to plan?”
He screws up his face and takes another drag on his cigarette.
“It’s not that,” he explains, “I’m just starting to get a little uneasy. There are about thirty of them, and they’re not being as cooperative as I’d like. I think they’re stockpiling and digging in, and I need to get a handle on things.”
“Before someone else does?” I suggest. He pauses, and for a fraction of a second I think I might have overstepped the mark. Then he grins again and points at me.
“You got it! See, you don’t miss a trick, Dan. That’s why I like you!”
He doesn’t like me and we both know it. Fucking idiot.
“So what do you want me to do?”
“There’s a guy called Warner running things down there. John Warner. He’s a local. Came with the territory.”
“You don’t trust him?”
“I don’t trust anyone,” he answers quickly. “Do you know Neil Casey?”
I struggle for a few seconds to place the name. I know he’s one of Hinchcliffe’s top cronies, but, truth be told, they’re all the same to me. Their personalities have become diluted. Rufus says they’ve been de-individualized, and I know what he means. I can only tell them apart by comparing their scars and their level of aggression. I lose track of which one’s which, but I think I know who Casey is.
“Tall guy, nasty scar on the back of his head?”
“That’s him. I sent him down there a few days ago, and he hasn’t reported back to me yet. You know the routine, Dan, if you’re working for me and I send you outside Lowestoft, you make contact at least once every twenty-four hours. That’s the deal.”
“You think they’ve got rid of him?”
“I don’t know what I think, and that’s why I want you to go there. Try to get a feel for what’s going on and let me know if there’s anything I should be worried about, OK?”
I don’t want to go anywhere, but what else can I say? Hinchcliffe doesn’t ask, he tells.
“OK.”
“Good man. Take a car from the pool, pick yourself up a radio, and get down there as soon as you can.”
“Now?”
“Why? You got something better to do?”
“No, it’s just that I don’t feel—”
“Get down there now and report back to me tonight. The sooner you go, the sooner you get back, and the happier I’ll be.”
Bastard. I can’t stand being used like this, but what choice do I have? It’s do the job or risk a beating, maybe worse. I get up to leave, but I’m not even halfway across the room when the coughing starts again, worsened no doubt by Hinchcliffe’s smoking and the arid, dry heat in here. I’m doubled over before I know what’s happening.
“You’ve got to start taking better care of yourself, Danny,” Hinchcliffe shouts after me, “you’re a key member of my team.” I glance back at him but I don’t react. Is he being genuine or sarcastic? I can’t tell the difference anymore.
6
HINCHCLIFFE HAS BUILT UP a vast collection of cars in varying states of disrepair. He has several mechanics working for him, but their skills are seriously lacking, as
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean. You can handle yourself. Doesn’t matter who or what you come across, you treat them all the same. You don’t rush in there with your fists flying like everyone else I’ve got who could go.”
Bit of a backhanded compliment, but that’s as good as it gets with Hinchcliffe.
“So what’s your problem?”
“Little issue with the neighbors,” he says, grinning again. “There’s something going on down there, I’m sure of it. I’ve been talking to them for a while, trying to get them to pack up and come up here. Thing is, they wanted to stay where they were, so I figured I’d keep them with us and let them get the place organized for me, then get in there and annex them.”
“I take it things aren’t going to plan?”
He screws up his face and takes another drag on his cigarette.
“It’s not that,” he explains, “I’m just starting to get a little uneasy. There are about thirty of them, and they’re not being as cooperative as I’d like. I think they’re stockpiling and digging in, and I need to get a handle on things.”
“Before someone else does?” I suggest. He pauses, and for a fraction of a second I think I might have overstepped the mark. Then he grins again and points at me.
“You got it! See, you don’t miss a trick, Dan. That’s why I like you!”
He doesn’t like me and we both know it. Fucking idiot.
“So what do you want me to do?”
“There’s a guy called Warner running things down there. John Warner. He’s a local. Came with the territory.”
“You don’t trust him?”
“I don’t trust anyone,” he answers quickly. “Do you know Neil Casey?”
I struggle for a few seconds to place the name. I know he’s one of Hinchcliffe’s top cronies, but, truth be told, they’re all the same to me. Their personalities have become diluted. Rufus says they’ve been de-individualized, and I know what he means. I can only tell them apart by comparing their scars and their level of aggression. I lose track of which one’s which, but I think I know who Casey is.
“Tall guy, nasty scar on the back of his head?”
“That’s him. I sent him down there a few days ago, and he hasn’t reported back to me yet. You know the routine, Dan, if you’re working for me and I send you outside Lowestoft, you make contact at least once every twenty-four hours. That’s the deal.”
“You think they’ve got rid of him?”
“I don’t know what I think, and that’s why I want you to go there. Try to get a feel for what’s going on and let me know if there’s anything I should be worried about, OK?”
I don’t want to go anywhere, but what else can I say? Hinchcliffe doesn’t ask, he tells.
“OK.”
“Good man. Take a car from the pool, pick yourself up a radio, and get down there as soon as you can.”
“Now?”
“Why? You got something better to do?”
“No, it’s just that I don’t feel—”
“Get down there now and report back to me tonight. The sooner you go, the sooner you get back, and the happier I’ll be.”
Bastard. I can’t stand being used like this, but what choice do I have? It’s do the job or risk a beating, maybe worse. I get up to leave, but I’m not even halfway across the room when the coughing starts again, worsened no doubt by Hinchcliffe’s smoking and the arid, dry heat in here. I’m doubled over before I know what’s happening.
“You’ve got to start taking better care of yourself, Danny,” Hinchcliffe shouts after me, “you’re a key member of my team.” I glance back at him but I don’t react. Is he being genuine or sarcastic? I can’t tell the difference anymore.
6
HINCHCLIFFE HAS BUILT UP a vast collection of cars in varying states of disrepair. He has several mechanics working for him, but their skills are seriously lacking, as
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