There were four or five cars parked, three facing out towards the hedge and the fields, two with their noses against the back of the pub.
None of them were blue Granadas.
I parked in a corner, that bad feeling still feeling bad, looking out on the hedge and the fields.
I sat there, waiting, staring into the rearview mirror.
There were two men sitting in a grey Volvo, waiting, staring into their rearview mirror.
Two cars along, Eric Hall got out of a white Peugeot 304.
I watched him coming towards me, hands deep in his sheepskin.
He came round the back of the car and tapped on my window.
I wound it down.
He leant down and asked me: ‘What you waiting for? Christmas?’
‘You got the money?’
‘Yeah,’ he said and stood back up.
I was staring into my rearview, watching the two heads in the Volvo. ‘Where is it?’
‘In the car.’
‘What happened to the Granada?’
‘Had to fucking sell it, didn’t I? Pay you.’
‘Get in,’ I said.
‘But the money’s in the car.’
‘Just get in,’ I said, starting the car.
He walked round the back and got in the other side.
I reversed out and down the side of the George.
‘Where we going?’
‘Just for a drive,’ I said, turning into the traffic.
‘What about the money?’
‘Fuck it.’
‘But…’
Eyes on the road, I was into the rearview every second glance. ‘There were two blokes sat in a grey Volvo, back there. You saw them, yeah?’
‘No.’
I hit the brakes and swerved into the side of the road, into the verge.
‘Them,’ I said, pointing at a grey Volvo flying past. ‘Fuck.’
‘Nothing to do with you?’
‘No.’
‘You wouldn’t have been thinking of doing me in or shooting me or anything clever like that, would you?’
‘No,’ he said, sweating.
I reversed back down the verge and swung back round the way we’d come.
Foot down, I said, ‘So who the fuck were they?’
‘I don’t know. Honest.’
‘Eric, you’re a dirty fucking copper. An old hack like me turns up on your doorstep and asks for five grand, you just going to roll right over? I don’t fucking think so.’
Eric Hall said nothing.
We drove back past the George, the Volvo gone.
‘Who you tell?’ I asked him again.
‘Look,’ he sighed. ‘Pull up, please.’
I went a little way on then parked near a church on the Halifax Road.
For a bit we just sat there, silent, no sun, no rain, nothing.
Eventually he said, ‘I’m up to my bloody neck in it as it is.’
I said nothing, just nodded.
‘I’ve not exactly played by the fucking rules, you know what I mean? I’ve turned a blind eye every now and again.’
‘And not for free, eh?’
He sighed again and said, ‘And who the bloody hell ever has or ever fucking would?’
I said nothing.
‘I was going to pay you, straight up. Still will, if that’s what it takes. Not five grand, I haven’t got it. But I got two and half for the car and it’s yours.’
‘I don’t want the fucking money, Eric. I just want to know what the fuck’s going on?’
‘Them blokes in the car park? I haven’t a fucking clue, but I’m betting they’re something to do with that cunt Peter Hunter and his investigation.’
‘What did they suspend you for?’
‘Backhanders.’
‘That all?’
‘It’s enough.’
‘Janice Ryan?’
‘Shit I could do without right now.’
‘When did you last see her?’
He sighed, wiping his palms on the tops of his thighs, and shook his head, ‘Can’t remember.’
‘Eric,’ I said. ‘Fuck the money and tell me. By time Hunter’s finished with you, you’re going to need every fucking penny you can get your dirty little hands on. So start by telling me some fucking truth and save yourself two and half grand.’
He looked up out the top of the windscreen, up at the black steeple in the sky, then he put his head back in the seat and said softly, ‘I didn’t fucking kill her.’
‘Did I say you did?’
‘Two weeks ago,’ he said. ‘She called me, said she needed money to get away, said she’d got some information to sell.’
‘You meet her?’
‘No.’
‘You know what kind of information she had?’
‘About some robberies.’
‘Which robberies?’
‘She didn’t say’
‘Past or future?’
‘She didn’t say’
I looked at the fat frightened face, saw it sweating in my passenger seat.
‘You tell anyone this?’
He swallowed, nodded.
‘Who?’
‘A sergeant from Leeds. Name’s Fraser, Bob Fraser.’
‘When did you tell him?’
‘Not long after.’
‘Why’d you tell him?’
Eric Hall turned his face my way and pointing at his eyes said, ‘Because he fucking beat it out of me.’
‘Why’d he do that?’
‘He was pimping her, wasn’t he?’
‘Thought that were you?’
‘A long time ago.’
‘That magazine, those pictures? What do you know about them?’
‘Nothing. Straight up. She never mentioned them.’
