Chapter 4
301 Words
WE WAS NEVER HEREThe two men walked up to the bar. One was tall, close-cropped hair and bulked-up muscles, the other was shorter, squatter, like a dumbbell, but there was no doubting his strength and viciousness. Freddie Jackson, barman at the West Garside Working Man’s Institute, did not know who they were but knew well enough what they were, strong arm enforcers for local gang boss Benny Blades or the Caunt Brothers from Sheffield, 16 miles away.
‘Jack Palmer been in here?’ the dumbbell asked.
‘Yeah, ‘bout an hour or so ago.’
‘Where is he now?’ the other heavy asked menacingly.
‘I don’t know, mate, I had to chuck him out, he was getting het up ‘cos I wouldn’t serve him no more.’
‘Where else does he drink, you know?’
‘If it’s not in here, I don’t care.’
‘I said, where else does he drink?’ Dumbbell said with a hard menace in his voice.
‘Yeah, OK. I’ve heard he drinks at the Dog and Duck on Leopold Street, don’t whether he’s there, though.’
‘Where else?’ asked the taller heavy.
‘Dunno, I only know about the ‘Dog’. What’s he done anyhow; he was in a right state?’
‘Only beaten his wife to a pulp.’
‘His wife, she in a bad way, I saw he had blood on him?’
‘She’s dead and now he’s got to pay.’
‘Ethel? Dead? Oh shit.’
‘OK pal, we’re off, but if the cops come round, when they come round, we was never here. you got that?’ Dumbbell said, giving Freddie the hard stare.
‘Yeah sure, got it, you was never here.’
‘Just make sure you remember that else we’ll be back and help improve your memory.’
- Writer
