The stakes get higher.
3
3
Inspector Mark Rawlings was the lead officer in the Drugs Squad at Wigan. His sharp dark suit and highly polished shoes gave the impression that he was a graduate heading ever upwards. The truth was until earlier this year sergeant Rawlings was the lead raid man dressed more like a road sweeper as he barged through front doors and leapt up stairs to make drug arrests. He had earned his desk top spurs.
He removed his glasses and wiped them with his tie. ‘Gentlemen, I’m pleased to report in this past month a dip in housebreaking, fewer violent crimes and crimes of a sexual nature. However credit card frauds and the black market are still on the rise. Both are the new cash for drugs. But not all are on to it yet. What’s the talk of the streets, Jim?’
Sergeant Jim Boyd had already done his thirty years and could consider retiring but he loved his job. He was the quintessential street Bobby who knew the kids, their parents and their parents too; such were the breeding habits of the area.
‘The Brownlees are quiet, so too Eck and Tam Barker. No real news of ‘Donkey’ Riley or ‘Bones’ Ritchie.’
‘Sounds good but maybe Bones and Donkey are inside still,’ said Officer Paul Rice.
‘No, they have been out for six weeks already. In fact saw them at the football at the weekend. More suitable recreation at last perhaps,’ said Inspector Rawlings. Then the officer gave a thoughtful look and caressed his chin. ‘Or the lull before the storm might be more likely,’ said the officer.
On Monday night Freddy made his way at 9:20 p.m. to the red pillar box. He had gone to his bank earlier in the day and given a plastic bag to have the money rolled up and placed inside. No questions were asked except one. ‘Is this you having a party then Freddy?’ the teller had asked but Freddy neither smiled nor replied. His business at the bank was over for the moment.
True to their word Bones and Donkey arrived on time with smiles on their faces. They greeted Freddy warmly patting his back as they did so. They came directly to the point.
‘Have you got the money, Freddy?’
Freddy did not answer. Rather he put his hand into his blue jerkin and pulled out the plastic bag.
‘Is it £500?’ asked Bones.
‘Yes, £500,’ he replied.
Nevertheless Bones took hold of the Lucca and opened out the money. He counted it himself.
‘You won’t regret this Freddy,’ said Bones.
‘I can’t do this every week,’ said Freddy.
‘No, no of course not. We don’t want to make you poor while your money is growing every day. We won’t let that happen, honest Freddy,’ said Donkey in a caring voice.
‘No you don’t understand. I am going on holiday with my Mum soon.’
Donkey and Bones looked at one another. They saw a break in their illicit gold pot income. They had to think round this difficulty.
‘So where are you going?’
‘We are going to Malta,’ said Freddy rocking back and forward on his toes and heels.
‘Malta, that’s in the Mediterranean Sea, isn’t it?’ wondered Donkey.
‘Yes, it is. It will be warm.’
‘Oh yes very warm. You will enjoy it.’
Donkey’s mind had left the sun and had returned back home. ‘So will there be anyone looking after the house while you are away?’
‘No, no one.’
‘I see. You had better put on your burglar alarm then,’ suggested Bones looking thoughtful and catching his co-conspirator’s eye.
‘Yes we will.’
Bones looked up to the sky. ‘I wonder Freddy...I wonder if the burglar alarm code you have is 9876?’
Freddy laughed quietly. ‘No it isn’t.’
‘I know,’ said Donkey almost immediately after..... ‘It’s.....it’s.. 1234.’
‘Both wrong, it’s 3629,’ said Freddy triumphantly.
‘Got that Donkey? 3629.’
‘Sure have. We were far out.’
‘Yes, you were far out.’
‘So when are you going to Malta?’
Freddy’s hands started to flap by his side involuntary. ‘18th April, this year.’
‘That’s only three weeks away,’ said Bones.
‘Yes it is.’
‘Got your swimming trunks packed Freddy?’ asked Donkey laughing.
‘No, not yet. But I will.’
They walked further along the road. Donkey lit up a cigarette. ‘Not been getting lost recently?’
‘No, not recently.’
The memory of their meeting brought a smile to Donkey’s face. ‘To think had you not been lost, we would not have met and now you are going to be rich. That’s what friends are for not so?’
‘Yes, ......I don’t have many friends.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Bones. ‘You don’t need many friends but you do need good friends like Donkey and me.’
Freddy smiled and as he walked along with them his head began to nod. It was as if he was in a world of his own. He was.
Donkey took out his phone. ‘Let’s keep in touch. What’s your phone number Freddy?’
‘I don’t use my phone much.’
‘But you’ve got a phone haven’t you?’ asked Donkey.
Freddy put his hand in his pocket and produced his mobile phone. Donkey took it.
‘Let’s see,’ he said scrolling down the contact list.
‘You’ve not got many contacts, Freddy.’
‘No, not many contacts.’
‘Is Becky your girlfriend?’
‘No Becky is my sister.’
‘Then you have a brother too?’
‘Yes, I have a brother.’
Bones smiled. ‘Alec that right?’
‘Alec is my brother.’
‘So that’s your family; mother, brother and sister, yeah?’
‘And Boris.’
‘Boris? Who is that,’ asked Bones.
‘That’s my sister’s dog. Boris is a Great Dane.’
Bones smiled but kept silent. Donkey laughed and Freddy looked empty.
‘Don’t phone many folk then?’
‘Yes, I phone my sister and brother and their children, and lots more too.’
‘So why don’t you use them in your contacts list?’
‘I don’t need to,’
Donkey screwed up his face at Freddy. ‘It makes life easier if you have a list of contact numbers.’
‘Don’t need a list. I know them all.’
‘What?’ said an astounded Bones as Freddy began to call out the codes and numbers of his sister and his brother.
‘That’s amazing. You’ve got a great memory Freddy,’ said Bones.
‘Yes, a good memory.’
Donkey’s mind was racing ahead. ‘So what’s your phone number then?’
‘It’s 07194286791.’
Three days later Freddy’s phone rang as he was playing his B flat harmonica. He came to the end of Pachebel’s Cannon before picking up his phone and just before Bones switched his off after a two minute wait.
‘Freddy?’
‘Yes, is that Bones?’
‘Yes, were you on the loo?’
‘No, not on the loo.’
‘So why the long wait? I nearly switched off.’
‘I was playing music.’
‘You could have put the sound off.’
‘No, I was playing music.’
‘You mean you were playing something?’
‘Yes a harmonica. Pachebel’s Cannon.’
‘Okay, never mind. I’m phoning you to let you know your money is making great progress. And...wait for it....I can even make you much more. Interested?’
‘Yes, interested.’
‘Okay let’s meet again before you go on holiday. Same place on Spencer road same time and bring another £500. That way your £1,000 will go much further, I promise you.’
‘Okay, same time and place with £500.’
‘Yep. Tomorrow evening. You can get the cash tomorrow some time. You won’t regret it Freddy. I’m your friend and we’re making you rich, ain’t we?’
‘Yes, making me rich.’
‘So that Cannon piece of music, can you play it again. I’ll listen in.’
‘Yes, I’ll play it beside my phone so you hear it.’
‘Great.’
Freddy began to play note perfect as usual but before he had got to the seventh bar, Bones has switched off his phone.
The following night Freddy returned to the post box on Spencer road. It was a collar raised, slouched back drizzly night. His two friends arrived without any meaningful waterproofs and looked miserable as the rain water dripped from their noses.
‘Hi what a night,’ said Donkey.
‘Yes, not nice,’ said Freddy.
‘Anyway I’ve got some good news for you. In setting up these accounts there was a joining fee. It was £50 and so I paid it for you from my own money. Well you actually paid it so here’s the £50 back Freddy. Shows I’m really working for you, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes, making me money.’
Freddy took from his inside jacket pocket another plastic bag of notes.
‘Thanks Freddy, it will be making money tomorrow morning.’
‘That’s good,’ said Freddy raising a weak smile.
‘Just one thing on my mind Freddy,’ began Donkey carefully choosing his words. ‘About you going away, best put an extra key somewhere. Post your own keys through the letter box so you can’t possibly lose your keys when you are in Malta. That’s what I do when I go to my cottage.’
‘What cottage?’
‘It’s in the highlands of Scotland, near Oban. I’ve got a holiday home there. Overlooks the sea, so it does.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Yes, it is. All from my profits. The ones you are making now. We can take you there someday when we have time.’
Freddy seemed relaxed; no twitching or shaking. It seemed the right time for another one way deal.
‘So Freddy, what do you do with your keys?’ asked Bones looking nonchalant.
‘It’s only the back door key we hide,’ said Freddy rocking to and fro ever so slightly. Was this a sign of anxiety thought Bones.
‘Yea, no need to hide both front and back,’ suggested Donkey. ‘So where do you hide the back door key?’ he persisted.
Freddy had no hesitation in replying. ‘Under a stone by the flower bed.’
‘Good place Freddy. No one could find it there,’ said Bones taking a sideward glance at Donkey. Donkey nodded, job done.
The rain slackened off. The air was cool.
‘Warm air in Malta Freddy,’ said Bones.
‘Yes,’ said Freddy nodding continuously. ‘I look forward to going.’
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Ron