Chapter 28
992 Words
28
They’d arranged for Wendy to go into the coffee shop a minute or so ahead of Jack, and to grab a drink and sit at another table — just in case. As Culverhouse entered the café, he noticed the only black man in the room was sitting towards the back, looking nervous.
He strode over and stopped at the table. ‘You my date for the evening?’
‘If you’re the guy in charge, yeah,’ the man said, standing up to shake his hand.
‘Jack Culverhouse.’
‘Uh, Ty.’
‘Ty? What’s that short for? Bear in mind I’m going to need to know your full name at some point anyway.’
The man sat back down and wrung his hands. Culverhouse sat down opposite him.
‘Do you want a coffee or something?’ Tyrone asked.
‘Nope.’
‘What about tea?’
‘No. I don’t want anything other than for you to tell me what this is about.’
Tyrone nodded. ‘Right. I just dunno where to start, you know? It ain’t easy. All I know is something ain’t right.’
Culverhouse rolled his eyes. ‘Lots of things “ain’t right”. It “ain’t right” that there’s war and suffering in the world. It “ain’t right” that I can’t get the foil lid off a Pot Noodle without leaving a little bit stuck the rim. It “ain’t right” that I’m sitting here when I should be busy running a major investigation.’
‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ Tyrone said, leaning forward.
‘Go on.’
Tyrone took a deep breath before speaking. ‘I know someone torched Freddie Galloway’s place and I know the sorts of people he got involved with. Listen. If I can help you, the only way I can do that is if I admit to some bad stuff. Stuff I’ve put a long way behind me. I don’t wanna end up being questioned or charged or anything.’
‘What sort of “stuff” are we talking about?’ Culverhouse asked, keen not to commit to anything.
‘Not as bad as torching a bloke’s house and killing him, if that’s what you mean.’
Culverhouse sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. ‘Listen, if you’ve got information that you think might help, it’d be a good idea to tell me. If it’s information that could change the investigation, and you don’t tell me, you could be perverting the course of justice.’
‘I know... It just ain’t that easy. I’m exposed big time here.’
Culverhouse rolled his eyes again. ‘Alright. Let’s look at this from another angle. What would you say if this wasn’t you sitting here, but a friend of yours? Say that friend had information that could help.’
‘He should help,’ Tyrone said. ‘It’d be the right thing to do.’
‘Well there you go, then.’
‘But it ain’t easy for him, y’know?’
‘Yeah, I know. You’ve told me three times. What do you reckon the bad stuff is that this... mate... of yours might not want to admit to?’
Tyrone shuffled uncomfortable in his seat. ‘You wired?’
‘No. Pat me down if you like.’
Tyrone thought for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Let’s say, this friend of mine, maybe, like, he was involved in a gang that did an armed robbery or something.’
‘Something like... Oh, let’s just pick one at random, shall we? Like Trenton-Lowe, for example?’
Tyrone looked down at his hands. ‘Yeah. Like that one.’
Culverhouse nodded. ‘Then I’d tell your friend that first of all he’s a f*****g i***t for inviting a police officer to a meeting to admit to being involved with shooting a police officer in the face. And second of all,’ he said, noticing the worried look on Tyrone’s face, ‘I’d point out that it’s a case that closed years ago and that time has been served. Most importantly, by the shooter. Then I’d ask him if people were leaning on him and making it awkward for him to talk.’
‘Yeah. You got it in one,’ Tyrone replied.
‘And I’d ask him if one of those people might have died recently. In a fire, perhaps.’
Tyrone didn’t reply, but Culverhouse could see from the look on his face that he was spot on.
‘That’s not all, though, is it?’ Culverhouse asked.
Tyrone clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, before taking a deep breath. ‘f**k’s sake, I shouldn’t be talking about any of this. It’s not something I’ve ever told anyone. Listen, all these years it’s been fine. We had a vow of silence, no-one broke it, no-one got hurt. I kept up my end of the bargain. I never spoke to no-one about nothing. But someone’s started threatening me.’
‘Someone involved in the Trenton-Lowe job?’
‘I dunno. Yeah, I think so. I think it’s all connected, but I dunno how. I just get a vibe, y’know? Listen, you know John Lucas got out of prison, right? The day Freddie Galloway’s house gets burned down. That ain’t right, is it? That weren’t him. I can guarantee it.’
‘So what are you saying? You know who it was?’
‘I think so, yeah. There was only four of us involved.’
Culverhouse tried to work it out in his head. ‘You, John Lucas, Freddie Galloway and Benjamin Newell?’
‘Yeah. He got sent down for a little while but not as long as Lucas. Lucas totally took the rap ‘cos he pulled the trigger. That night, Lucas and Newell left by the front entrance, where we came in. Me and Freddie went out the back. The whole thing was Freddie’s idea, he had the inside contact. He put the team together. Me and Freddie got away from there. Never identified, nothing. No-one ever blabbed. But Lucas took the rap, right? So I totally get that he’d want to get even. It makes sense for him to want to torch Freddie Galloway’s place and probably to come after me next.’
‘But you don’t think he did?’
Tyrone shook his head. ‘Nah. Doesn’t feel right. But Benjamin Newell got f****d over too that night. He got caught while me and Freddie escaped out the back. And the reason he got caught was because Lucas fired that f*****g gun. If they’d got out of there earlier, or gone another way or whatever... Well, y’know. They wouldn’t have been caught. And even if they were, Newell wouldn’t have got the sentence he did if Lucas hadn’t shot the cop.’
‘So what you’re saying is—’
‘What I’m saying is John Lucas weren’t the only one who could’ve held a grudge. Newell had three people to get back at. And wouldn’t it be perfect if he’d not only managed to get away with popping Freddie off but managed to pin it on Lucas too? Two for the price of one. Worth waiting eleven years for, don’t you reckon?’
Culverhouse had to admit that it might well be. It was starting to sound like a solid theory. ‘In that case, how’s he going to get back at you?’ he asked Tyrone.
‘Yeah. That’s what I’m worried about.’
- Writer
