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The Trials of Freddy Dunning
Category:
Inspirational
Grooming continues
3
Codes and Numbers
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 of promotion.
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 for that matter; such were the limited breeding habits of the area.
‘The Brownlees are quiet and so too are 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 I 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,’ he concluded with a crestfallen look when his remark lacked support.
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 that 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; niceties were not part of their social skills either.
‘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 flipping his dirty fingers past four hundred pounds.
‘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, no you don’t understand. I am going on holiday with my Mum soon.’ Freddy’s announcement was said with enjoyment as his hands started to tremble and his rocking stance began.
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 continuing with his rocking back and forward on his toes and heels with his eyes fixed on Donkey who had asked the question.
‘Malta, that’s in the Mediterranean Sea, isn’t it?’ wondered Donkey.
‘Yes. It will be warm.’
‘Oh yes very warm. You will enjoy it.’
Donkey’s mind had left the sun behind 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.’
‘Don’t be silly Bones, that’s my house code,’ said Donkey.
‘I know,’ said Bones banging his fist into the palm of his other hand almost immediately after. ‘It’s.....it’s.. 1234 Freddy, isn’t it?’ asked Donkey.’
‘Wrong again, it’s 3629,’ said Freddy triumphantly. ‘It’s my Mum’s birthday. Third of June 1929.’
‘Got that Donkey? 3629,’ Bones asked trying not to show his excitement.
‘Sure have. We were far out, weren’t we?’ he replied facing Freddy with an expression of dismay.
‘Yes, you were far out,’ Freddy confirmed with several nods of his head.
Time to normalise the conversation once more with an alternative motive, thought Bones.
‘So when are you going to Malta?’
Freddy’s hands started to flap by his side involuntary.
‘12th April.....quite soon.’
‘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. He offered one to Bones who refused. ‘Not been getting lost recently, I hope?’ Donkey asked.
‘No, not recently.’
The memory of their meeting brought a smile to Donkey’s face. ‘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’s smile was like a Cheshire cat seeing a bowl of milk. 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 with concern.
Freddy put his hand in his pocket and produced his mobile phone. Donkey took it. He looked at it.
‘Very basic. No photo function. 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?’ Donkey enquired in a moment of mischief.
‘No Becky is my sister.’
‘Okay, I see. 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 screwing up his eyes as the name did not appear in the contact list.
‘That’s my sister’s dog. Boris is a Great Dane.’
Bones looked up at Freddy and smiled but kept silent. There was no need to ask why Boris was not on the contact list. 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’s puzzled face challenged Freddy’s declaration. ‘It makes life easier if you have a list of contact numbers, you know.’
‘Don’t need a list. I know them all.’
‘What?’ asked an astounded Bones as Freddy began to fire out the codes and names of his nieces and nephews, one after the other. Then came the butcher, the painter and finally the milkman’s numbers. Donkey smiled at Freddy’s ability on show.
‘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 harmonica in the key of D. He came to the end of Pachelbel’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?’ Bones wondered.
‘No, not on the loo.’
‘So why the long wait? I nearly switched off.’
‘I was playing music.’
Bones mouth was ajar in disbelief. ‘You could have put the sound down or off.’
‘No, I was playing real music.’
‘You mean you were playing something?’
‘Yes a harmonica. Pachelbel’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, the banker, 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 had switched off his phone. His latest deal had been achieved. Classical music was practically alien to him anyway.
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. 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,’ he said squeezing the notes to gauge the £500 content. Counting days were over with Freddy. He was ever so obliging.
‘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. I put mine under a flowerpot in my greenhouse. That way I can’t possibly lose my keys when I return. So that’s what I do when I go to my cottage, you see.’
‘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. Can’t we Bones?’ he asked nodding his head to encourage agreement. Bones reciprocated with a teeth clenched, closed mouth smile and many nods, without a word. His thoughts were elsewhere in the real world.
Bones realised Freddy was as relaxed as a laid back sloth. He showed no signs of his twitching or shaking episodes. It seemed the right time to home-in on their plan.
‘So Freddy, what do you do with your keys when you are away?’ asked Bones looking nonchalant and away from him.
‘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,’ agreed Donkey. ‘So where do you hide the back door key?’ he persisted.
Freddy had no hesitation in replying. ‘Under a slate stone by the pansy 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 am going to Malta. Quite soon now.’
On that note, they parted. As soon as Freddy was out of sight Donkey punched the air. ‘Yes yes,’ he said.
Bones offered a high five and Donkey crashed his palm into his.
‘God he’s gullible,’ said Bones.
‘Yea, this could run for a very long time,’ Donkey said kicking a pile of leaves from the pavement on to the road.
‘Hey man steady. Don’t let the fuzz get any cause to mess with us,’ said Bones, tapping the notes in his side pocket.
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