Living my life on the edge of what is and is not legal sort of happened without a plan or deliberate action on my part. It just happened and … well it took a car crash to make me take stock of my life.
Wheeling and dealing with sometimes slightly dodgy goods, was the norm for me so spending three months on my back and then in a wheelchair recovering from two broken legs and a fractured pelvis came hard, really hard for me. As someone who was out and about morning, noon and night the enforced idleness hit me hard.
Who am I?
Well, my name is Tony Spencer or, just plain ‘Spence’ to my friends. I am a native of the Perry Barr area of the fine city of Birmingham, UK.
Now I’m twenty-five and boy, how the years have passed since I left school with no qualifications and just fell into a bit of wheeling and dealing. Somehow, I nearly always made a profit so I continued and continued until I’d become quite good at it. I like to think of myself as a more successful ‘Del Boy’ from the TV show, ‘Only Fools and Horses’. Sure, some of the things I dealt in were a bit dodgy and may have even fallen off the back of the proverbial lorry but as long as I made a profit and I kept just the right side of the law then I was up for it.
Then it all changed for me. To put it simply, I got too big for my boots. I became involved with something very illegal and it all went very pear-shaped. The people who put up the money for the deal wanted it back with interest and all eyes seemed to point in my direction as the cause of the failure of the enterprise. I turned out to be a convenient scapegoat because, on the day of the deal going down, I was hit by a car as I walked along the street. That made it impossible for me to defend my corner but after a period of reflection, I was glad that I didn't have to.
I’d been sort of killing time until I drove to the agreed place for the deal to go down. I’d had a coffee in my favourite café in West Bromwich and was walking back to my car when a driver of a Ford Fiesta collapsed at the wheel as it came in my direction. Well, in the direction of me and a woman who was pushing a baby in a pushchair. Instinct took over and from what the Police told me, I probably saved the woman and her child’s life. When they told me what I’d done, I was surprised as I didn’t remember a thing after finishing my Coffee.
As I was being taken to hospital, a few miles away on an industrial estate close to the M5/M6 Motorway junction the 'deal' that I'd been involved with was going down when it was rudely interrupted by the Police who arrived all sirens blazing and armed to the teeth. Some of the players in the deal were known to carry guns so, in retrospect, it was understandable.
To cut a long story short, everyone but my good self was carted off to various Police Stations around Brum by the Plod. Two of the nastier specimens of humanity that were now under arrest were taken down to London to a top security Police establishment.
Meanwhile, I was oblivious to all those goings-on and was in the hospital undergoing several operations to fix the injuries that I'd incurred in the accident.
Two of the main ringleaders had been nabbed by the police a few days later when they met to discuss what went wrong. They started singing like canaries and soon a good number of their associates were also in custody. This was a major PR triumph for the police. The police accidentally revealed that they had a source inside one of the parties to the deal. As I was the only participant not in jail, the finger was firmly pointed in my direction.
I had several visits from the Police while I lay in my hospital bed, but in the end, they decided that my alibi was rock solid and it wasn’t in the public interest to prosecute me but that was scant relief for the pain that my injuries were giving me.
Eventually, the day came for me to leave the Hospital. I was not looking forward to having to fend for myself in my current state of mobility so my lawyer had arranged for me to spend a few weeks in a rehab centre. Yes, I had a lawyer. My fairly frequent brushes with the law meant that I had one on what the Americans call ‘speed dial’.
The rehab centre I was sent to, was a disaster. It was full of old folk getting over their falls and strokes. It wasn’t their fault but the facilities at the centre were built for their problems, not mine. I just didn't fit in.
I lasted just over a week before I called my Lawyer.
“Can you come and get me out of here before I go stir crazy?”
“Anything.”
“Yes. Anything and anywhere that has a small gym and a swimming pool so I can do all the physio that the doctors want me to.”
“I look forward to seeing you soon,” I said as I hung up the phone.
Three days later my escape plan was complete. My dear lawyer had rented a house with an indoor pool and fitness centre for me. The lease was just for three months. The Doctors estimated that it should be long enough for me to get mobile if I put my mind and back importantly, my heart into it. Just going through the motions would not cut it.
What I did then was up in the air. My enforced stay in bed had given me time to think about my life. If I hadn’t had the accident, I would more than likely be in prison waiting for trial. I’d had a close shave. Far closer than any I’d ever had before. This shook me to the core in more ways than I cared to imagine.
My lawyer, Tommy Cotton, bless his cotton socks, had engaged the services of a rehab nurse come physio, come housekeeper. She would look after my body and soul until I was ready to face the big bad world again. He was very coy about her. All he’d say was, ‘you are paying me a good wad of cash for my services. I would not want that to stop so just relax and wait and see’.
The house was located well off my regular patch. All he’d say was that it had been leased to a Premiership Footballer who had played for a club in the north of England and had been transferred to a club in Turkey in the January transfer window. The lease was up at the end of June. It was now late March. I had three months to get mobile again. It looked like I would be in for a lot of hard work.
The letting agent let us into the property. Thankfully, it had step-free access so my wheelchair was easily able to be pushed inside. I could get around a bit with the aid of crutches but I wasn’t that steady on them.
The Nurse who’d been engaged to look after me during my journey was looking anxiously at her watch.
“Do you need to be somewhere?”
“Yes. I have my shift starting in three hours. The M6 will be a car park all the way to Birmingham,” came her slightly anxious reply.
“My nurse is due here very soon,” I said hopefully.
"You can always take the A34. It is often better than the M6 at this time of day," I added, using my experience of roads that didn't have ANPR Cameras every few miles.
"I very much hope so," came her reply.
Nearly half an hour later, her replacement turned up.
“Well, hello!” she said in a cheery voice as she bounded into the house.
“Sorry for being a bit late, the road works on the M6 near Wigan delayed my journey down from Glasgow," she added with a broad Scottish accent.
My new nurse was about 5ft 6in tall with jet-black shoulder length hair tied back in a ponytail. She appeared to be a little older than me.
“And this is my patient then?” she said in that ‘nursey’ sort of voice.
I tried to smile at her.
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Och, silly me, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Heather Watson.”
"Hello, Heather."
“Can I go now?” asked the other nurse.
"In a moment. We must do a proper handover. I'm sure you know the form,” commented Heather in a tone that told me that she meant business.
The other nurse’s shoulders visibly sagged.
Then Nurse Heather said to me,
“Stay right where you are while we get the handover done.”
With that, the two of them disappeared into what I assumed was the kitchen.
Their disappearance gave me a chance to look around the living room.
The house was decorated in a style that was definitely not to my taste. The hallway was full of what could only be described as 'tasteless tat'. A huge reproduction Louis X1V mirror dominated one wall. Two similarly styled chairs sat on either side of it. It all looked rather out of place with a beech floor. The more I looked at the place the worse it became. It appeared to be all fake style and no substance. Not my cup of tea in any shape or form. The word 'bling' kept popping into my mind as I looked around.
I’d just have to live with it until I could get mobile enough to pack it away.
The two women had been gone for almost ten minutes before they reappeared.
"It is all done, I'm now in charge," said Nurse Heather, in a very confident manner.
She showed the other nurse out the front door, and stood there watching her predecessor drive away.
“Now!” said Heather as she came back inside.
"Why don't I make you comfortable, and then I will put things away. Then, we can become acquainted before I get us something to eat. I'll bet you are fed up with Hospital food, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m very fed up with tasteless gunk. If anything, the rehab place I was at, had worse food than the hospital.”
She chuckled at my description of the food at the Rehab place.
“Good. I bought us a few supplies once I got to this part of the world. Once we get settled and a routine planned, I can do some proper shopping and get more of the things you like. Ok?”
“Yes. But…”
“What is it?”
“I need to use the toilet. I’m bursting.”
“Why didn’t you say so sooner,” came her effervescent reply.
The following day we got down to business. It didn’t take long for me to understand that Nurse Heather enjoyed torture. Nothing else could describe it. The pain was horrible yet there was always a smile on her face. Before the end of the first day, I was dreaming up ways to kill her in the most painful ways possible.
Then she redeemed herself by cooking up some truly excellent food.
We soon settled down into a pattern where she tortured me in the morning, gave me rabbit food for lunch followed by more torture in the pool followed by a session with weights and a massage. Then in the evening we would eat heartily and talk about all sorts of things until I fell asleep.
Despite my wanting to alternatively kill her (for the torture she was putting me through) and kiss her (for her cooking) progress was being made. I started to get more mobile and some strength returned to my legs.
The big difference with Heather over the physios at the hospital was that she concentrated on my whole body and not just the broken bits. This was the opposite of how the physios in the hospital and rehab centre worked so
I didn't blame them. Their job was to get people mobile enough to be discharged.
As a result of her attention if not masochism, I lost weight and got a lot fitter. My legs started to work without them complaining angrily.
We’d been at it for almost six weeks when we received some rather bad news.
I was in the pool doing yet another length using only my legs when I heard the front door bell ring.
“Heather, I think that is the front door.”
“Are you sure Laddie?”
Then it went again. This time she didn’t argue and disappeared to answer it.
I took the rare opportunity to have a breather while I waited for her to return and the inevitable haranguing, I’d get for slacking off.
Heather soon returned accompanied by someone I hadn't seen since the early days in the hospital.
"Hello, Inspector. Come to give me another grilling?"
“Not at all Tony,” he replied.
“Perhaps we might have a conversation with both of us on dry land?”
“Oh! Yes. Let me get out of here. That is if my slave mistress agrees?”
Heather went a little red in the face.
“In the circumstances, I think an early termination of our work today would be agreeable with me,” replied Heather slightly indignantly.
I smiled as I made my way toward the steps to exit the pool.
“Heather, perhaps you could put the kettle on?”
“Inspector? Tea perhaps?” I asked.
“Not for me. This is not a social call.”
Heather took her cue and disappeared while I exited the Pool.
I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“Why don’t we sit down and you can give me the bad news?”
“You know?”
“Know what? I’m pretty cut off here. I haven’t watched much TV since my accident. You coming here can only be to give me some bad news. Am I right?”
“Three of your alleged compatriots have been granted bail. This is despite them making very public threats to come after you. They seem to think that you grassed them up.”
“And you did nothing to convince them otherwise?”
“I am afraid not until it was too late.”
“Then they must be looking to settle a few scores?”
“I think that you need to disappear.”
“Isn’t this out of the way enough? After all, only you and my lawyer know about it.”
“Ah, your lawyer. There is something you should know about him.”
“That he’s gone over to the dark side?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“He went over a few years ago. I have a few things on him that would not do to see the light of day. Until now, that has been enough to keep him on my side.”
“But if you were to disappear on a more long-term basis?"
I smiled at the inspector.
“Do you think that Tommy Cotton is my only legal representative?”
He didn’t reply but a wry smile crossed his face.
“Look Inspector, you know the score. You don't last in my sort of business for as long as I have without preparing for as many possible fates as possible. If someone bumps me off and I sincerely hope they don't for a long time yet, you boys in blue are going to have a lot of very nice evidence of all sorts of wrongdoing dropping on your laps. However, you should not count your chickens just yet. This accident and my subsequent injuries, have given me time to think. I’ve decided to stop living on the edge so to speak. The time I have spent here has allowed me to take stock and well, come to terms with my life in general.”
“What? You are going legit?”
I smiled.
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear Inspector. I’m not just going legit, I’m giving up the wheeling and dealing for good. No more, cough, cough, buying and selling stuff off the back of a lorry so to speak.”
“What are you going to do?”
I grinned back at the Policeman.
“Now, now Inspector, do you honestly expect me to reveal all my plans before they are fully formed? But rest assured, they will be all very legal and above board. You can be sure of two things. One is that I won't be back anywhere on the West Midlands Police's patch. Two, I won't be doing any buying, selling or trading of any sort. I will be doing something that will be completely different.”
It was his turn to emit a small laugh.
“Now Tony, do you think I will fall for that one? I guess that you have no clue about what you are going to do next. But that's all right by me."
“Inspector, having a fractured pelvis is no joke. Having three metal plates put in mine and two more in both of my legs was more than enough to make me rethink my life from the ground up. Believe me, Inspector, the pain I suffered after the accident was… well not what I'd wish on my enemies and believe me, I've made a few over the years including I'd wager, a few of your colleagues."
“So, you are a reformed criminal then? Pull the other one, I’ve seen hundreds of people like you talk the talk about going straight but never do.”
I laughed.
“I guess that it is up to me to prove you wrong then?”
"Not if you know who has anything to do about it you won't even get the chance."
I knew that he was right.
“Thank you for coming to let me know what has happened. Have a safe journey back to Brum.”
I walked him to the front door. As I opened it, he took hold of my arm and said,
“There was one more thing. Your home was been done over. Done over big time.”
“So, what? There was nothing of real value to me there."
“What about those pictures on the wall? Someone took a blade to them big time.”
"Oh, those? They were copies. Not the real thing. I had them copied by a guy in Bristol. His day job is making sets for that film company down there that do those Wallace and Grommit films.”
The Inspector looked at me strangely.
“They were strictly for show. To impress the ladies.”
I let out a sigh.
“Not that it worked though.”
The Inspector said his goodbyes and drove away.
Once the front door was closed, I looked for something to hit. The fake mirrors and ghastly furniture were very close and even more tempting but I didn’t. I’d lied to the Inspector, but that was not exactly new, but the pictures that had been destroyed were only too real and worth around £5000 each. Oh well, there was nothing else that I needed from the place. I made a note to get my lawyer to clear the place and put it on the market. At least the sale of the place should give me a little profit.
I was brought back to earth by Heather.
“You look like you’d like to ‘nut’ someone.”
“I would. Did you hear all that?”
She nodded.
“Can I do anything?”
“Got a punch bag in your pocket?"
We both laughed.
“Come into the kitchen and have a cuppa. We can talk things through.”
“Why? You aren’t involved.”
“I’m here so I’m involved by implication. Besides, I’d like to find out if you meant what you said about changing tack and going straight.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Heather saw my hesitation and said,
“Come on, I don’t bite you know. Unless that is you support Rangers? You don’t do you?”
As I hadn’t a clue what she meant; I followed her into the kitchen.
“Now you be seated while I make the tea.”
I almost said ‘yes miss’ but instead, I went and sat on one of the stools.
Heather didn’t take long to produce the promised tea. As she put the steaming mug down in front of me, she asked,
“Now tell me all about it. Think of it as part of your rehab. Rehab of your mind. So, come on tell Auntie Heather all about it.”
As she said it, she gave a little snigger.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing really. I was watching TV last night in my bedroom. I saw a rerun of the final episode of the US series CSI. A woman named Heather had a significant part in it. She was a therapist and former Madam.”
That meant nothing to me because I hardly ever watched TV. If WBA were on ‘Match of the Day’ and hadn’t lost, I’d watch but very little else.
I drank some of the tea and began my story.
“I first got into wheeling and dealing when I was about thirteen. I didn't mean to but the temptation of making some easy money… Well, you can guess the rest. Import, Export, factory clearances, just about anything to avoid having a proper job and turn a profit. Don’t get me wrong, I made a lot of money and only a small part of it was declared to the HMRC but in the big order of crooks, I was small fry.”
I took some more tea before carrying on.
“There was no reason to give it up while I was making a profit. I became addicted to the thrill of getting one over on big business. In the end, I was importing over 100 container loads of products from the far east every year. That was all legal and declared, but that wasn't enough. I was always looking out for what prospectors call the ‘Mother Lode’. When I had the opportunity to move a container load of clearly stolen Scotch Whisky, I could not say no. The others as in those who got nicked and did the actual robbery were supposed to meet me and hand over the scotch. When I didn't show because I was in the hospital and the plod turned up to nab them, they thought I'd turned them in. I hadn't naturally and the police were not going to let on that they had a mole in the gang. What made it worse was that the Whisky turned out to be guns and ammunition.”
“Hold on a moment. You know that how?”
“Something that the Inspector let slip when he interviewed me in the Hospital. It does not matter now. All that matters is that there are some of the gang are out on bail. If I know them, they will be looking for me, and when they find me, they will make my accident seem like a prick on the finger. Those people don’t take prisoners, and anyone who crosses them does not live long.”
“Why did you get involved with them? If you know that they are that bad?”
“Money. They knew I had or rather one of my business associates had this strange ability to make a 40ft container of hooch disappear without a trace so that the long arm of the law can't find it. They offered me a decent cut so I went along with it. At first, it was all hooch and we all made money but this last operation was in hindsight very different. The principals were far more guarded about when and where the drop was to happen. I only found out where it was half an hour before my accident."
I sighed.
“That is as they say history now.”
“Who was this mob that you were tied up with?”
“Jonjo Mackay and his crew.”
Heather went white in the face.
“I gather from your reaction, that you know of him then?”
“Anyone coming from the East End of Glasgow knows Jonjo. Let’s just say that our paths have crossed in the past, more times than I'd like to admit to anyone but my priest in the confessional.”
Then she said after looking me straight in the eyes,
“Are you really, really sure about going straight?"
“I am very sure about that. It has been just about the only thing that has driven me to get this far with my rehab.”
Heather sat watching me for almost a minute before she said anything.
“Do you mean what you said about going straight? Be honest with me?"
She’d already asked me that but I played along with her.
“I do. Time to settle down, get a proper job and be a decent member of society for once.”
Then Heather surprised me by saying,
“Then we had better do something about not letting those keen on doing you harm find us hadn’t we?”
“We? They are after me not you.”
“Really? If this was Glasgow and I’d been shacked up with you for the past six weeks, and if a bunch of nasties found me with you, I’d be a corpse floating down the Clyde on the next outgoing tide. I am a loose end that needs clearing away. They wouldn't want to take a chance that you'd told me everything. You have, so I'm in danger too."
I looked at Heather for a few seconds before realising that I’d been hoodwinked.
“You deliberately got me to talk, didn’t you?”
“What if I did? I’ve taken a bit of a liking to you. Besides, I’ve been paid in advance for my work here, and I think that your rehab is about done so I’d like to help you evade your former associates. That is if you will have me?"
“I… But… Don’t you have some footballer who needs your services?”
“The season is just about over and to use a rather well-worn quote, ‘I don’t give a dam if I never see an ACL ever again’.”
“ACL?”
“It stands for the Anterior Cruciate Ligament. It is located in the knee and one which a lot of footballers seem to suffer from these days.”
She looked at me hopefully.
“Look, I know that you can say no but I think that the two of us work well together.”
“I don’t know.”
“You are a bit of a loner. You have more or less admitted that. I am as well but I feel good with you. I’ve never felt that with anyone before. When I arrived, I thought that I was helping a petty criminal get well again, but there is a lot more to you than just your wheeling and dealing. You have a decent brain unlike so many of my clients who can only think about football, and how to wangle a transfer to Real Madrid or Barcelona which would allow them to make as much money as possible in as short a time as possible. When they are not fit to play, they are on a much-reduced income so they get me to work them very hard and most of the time I’d hardly get any thanks from them when my job was done. I was just the hired help. You are not like them as evidenced by our talks in the evening.”
I didn’t say anything so she carried on…
“When was the last time you had sex? As far as I know, no ‘other half’ came to visit you in hospital and you have not been making lovey-dovey calls to anyone while we have been here. Then there is the fact that you while taking an interest in me, haven’t tried it on with me the entire time I’ve been here.”
I started to feel naked. Nurse Heather was peeling away my protective layers one by one. For someone from the east end of Glasgow, she was very astute. So much for preconceptions…
“What about you?” I responded trying to change the subject away from me.
“When did you last get laid?” I asked returning the question to her.
“That’s not the point,” she argued.
“Oh, but it is. You asked me so it is only fair that I can ask you. So, what about it eh?”
“I was fourteen. He was twenty and nine months later…”
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I should not have asked.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“How is your bairn?” I replied trying to use a Scottish word.
Heather looked sad. I saw her eyes well up.
“I’m so sorry. Me and my big mouth.”
I reached over and took her hand. She made a small movement to pull it away but she stopped and relaxed.
“Hamish died of Meningitis just before his first birthday. I just thought it was the sniffles. If only… Anyway, it was that that inspired me to become a nurse” she replied with a big sigh.
“I’m so sorry.”
“That’s all right. It was a long time ago.”
“But why aren’t you working in a hospital saving lives and all that?”
“I was but I had one too many arguments with the management about their waste of money. Now, I'm my own boss and better paid to boot. I’m still helping people though.”
I thought for a moment.
“I see and I’m such a basket case that I need a lot more help?”
Heather smiled back at me before saying,
“Well, Nurse Heather seems to think so.”
I laughed.
“But does Nurse Heather have a plan for us to escape?”
She giggled.
“I take it that I’m not going to like it then?”
“That remains to be seen. In the meantime, we need to prepare to leave don’t you think?”
“When?”
Heather looked at the clock on the wall.
“Well, what do we need to do to this place? You know before we exit stage left?”
I looked around before saying,
“Clean up, pack our things and get the agent in to inspect the place so that I can get the deposit back.”
“The day after tomorrow then?”
After a brief thought, she added,
“Only if you pitch in. I need to go out for a few hours tomorrow.”
“Shopping?”
“More like escape preparation.”
“You like playing games with me, don't you? You have been doing it all the time we have been here haven’t you?”
“I find it brightens the day up. Stops things getting boring.”
“Hmmmppphh.”
[to be continued]
The pair of us worked long into the night cleaning the house. Despite my best endeavours, Heather would not divulge what she had planned for us when we finally left out current location.
"Don't worry, Tony, I'm not going to turn you into your old friends. After the visit from the Polis, I checked them out via a friend of mine from Parkhead. His words were, 'don't do it. They will want to clear up all loose ends, and you will be one of those loose ends'. That means I'm a target just like you. He added that Jonjo’s gang had been run out of Glasgow for being too violent several years back. You really fucked up getting involved with them. You know who the ‘they’ that I am talking about are.”
Somehow, I got the idea that she was only telling me part of the story, but that would have to do for now.
“I already know that. Somehow someone managed to get something on me that would put me away for a five stretch, so I didn’t have much choice but to go along with them, at least for that operation."
“Then you know that I can’t walk away from you. They probably know that I am here and also where we are. If they don’t know right now, it might not be long before they do find out where we are.”
“So? What do you propose I do about it?”
Heather glared at me.
“Look numpty, it is US for the foreseeable future. If I’d known the sort of people you were hooked up with, I'd have never taken this gig. I didn't, and now I know I'm up the same shit creek as you whether I like it or not. That's why I went shopping yesterday."
“What did you get?”
"Not so fast buster, we have to do this the right way or not at all."
Heather’s words put me in my place all right.
“Ok. Message understood loud and clear.”
"Good. Now, exactly who are Jonjo Mackay, and his crew going to be looking for when they come calling?"
“You and me. So?”
Heather grinned at me. As she did so, a feeling of fear ran through my body.
“They won’t be looking for two women.”
“No. No and No.”
“Ok, go and give yourself up to Jonjo’s crew, and see how long you last.”
“Look at me. There is no way I can pass for a woman at the drop of a hat now is there?”
“So, you go disguised at first.”
Heather had an answer for everything.
“At first?”
“Jonjo’s gang of enforcers were known as the ‘Glasgow Mounties’ in that they never give up. If you want, I could call a pal of mine in Gorbals. He’ll tell you about Jonjo and retribution. He’s like his Pa before him, and his Pa before him. They never give up. No matter where you are, he'll find you if you stay as you are. You have to change. Otherwise…"
Heather did a mimic of a knife being drawn across her throat.
I got the message.
“I could go abroad?”
Heather shook her head.
“There was a man named Danny Frazer from Govan, he wasn’t a bad person...for a Rangers supporter. Someone put the word was put out that he'd double-crossed Jonjo. Danny knew Jonjo's reputation, so he ran and ran and ran. He ended up in Brazil. Jonjo found him almost five years later and had him decapitated in front of his family who had been kidnapped in Scotland, and made to watch via CCTV. Then he put his body on a spit, and after roasting it, he fed it to the piranhas. Then his family disappeared off the face of the earth. Nothing remained. Danny wanted to disappear, and Jonjo made sure that he'd never be found. So, in the end, he got what he wanted but not in the way he wanted. About a year later, it came to light that Danny hadn't ratted Jonjo out, but instead of doing the honourable thing, he made the family disappear. Loose ends are not his forte. A couple of years later, the person who had dobbed Danny into Jonjo was exposed as the real double crosser. Jonjo took him and the whole of his family on a fishing boat out past the 200-mile mark and threw them overboard with weights tied around their ankles. Then the boat carried on fishing as if nothing had happened. That is the sort of evil bastard he is.”
Heather sighed.
"Some people in the Scottish media have even compared Jonjo to the Krays. The Krays were pussycats compared to him. The Krays had a weird sort of ethics around families, and old people. Jonjo is all about Jonjo. He is devoid of emotion even towards family members. He's also one of those people, who by some quirk of nature can’t feel any pain. You could stick a knife into him, and he'd feel nothing."
She let that sink in for a moment.
“He and his crew were only run out of Glasgow because all the other bad guys in the city teamed up and beat the fuck out of his crew with him watching. Then they torched his home. He got the message that he'd be next, so he and his crew came south.”
I sagged visibly.
“Ok. I get it. What do I need to do?”
“Great. Both of us are going to go in ‘mufti’.
“Mufti? What the hell is that?”
"The word was originally used to describe Army officers wearing civilian clothes."
“And in our case?”
“We dress as Muslim women.”
“Hell No.”
"Why not? They won't be looking for two women wearing Hijabs. It has been shown in several studies that people tend to ignore the faces of women who are wearing hijabs. That is what we will rely on."
What Heather was saying, made sense. Perfect sense to her but not to me.
That evening I was introduced to Muslim dress.
Heather showed me how to put on a Hijab. After drawing blood a few times, I managed to pin everything in place.
At the end of the evening, she showed me the final part of my disguise, the Niqab.
“I have two here,” she explained.
"One has a veil, and one does not."
I looked at the ‘things’.
“Could you drive in a veil? I don’t think the ‘Polis’ would like that’.”
“Yes. But it can be lifted up and away from your face.”
“Let me have the one with the veil.”
Heather smiled. I think I made the right choice.
A minute later, she said,
“Let me put the first veil over your eyes.”
“The first veil? How many are there?”
Grinning, she replied
“Three.”
I sighed as she lowered the first one over my eyes.
“This is very light,” I commented.
“But it hides my eyes very well.”
Then she put the second layer over me.
“Wow. How can people move around with this over their eyes?”
"I don't know, but I have seen them in places like Bradford. I wouldn't want to do it myself. "
“Ok, and the final one?”
Then it went almost dark.
“Ok, this is the ‘I don’t want to be disturbed’ layer,” I commented.
I heard a chuckle.
I lifted the layers of the veil over my head, so that I could see again.
"We have another job to do, but only when the agent has been and given the place the all-clear."
“What’s that?”
"I'll need to pluck your eyebrows. They are far too masculine. The only thing that you will have visible is your eyes. I'll put some kohl around them, but your eyebrows need some attention. Most Muslim women keep the bit between the brows well plucked.”
I looked at myself in the mirror. She was right.
“How much will you remove?”
“Oh, don’t worry. There will be quite a lot left. I have to do mine as well,” she joked.
“I’ve let them go a bit wild since I’ve been here.”
After what seemed an eternity, he agreed that everything was as it should be and the documents were signed off.
With the house locked up and Heather’s car all loaded up, the Agent left them to it after saying,
“I have a viewing to attend to. Can you make sure the gates at the end of the drive are shut after you?”
“We will,” said Heather.
With him gone, we went back into the house using a spare key that Heather had used during their time there and got changed. As they were doing so, Tony’s phone rang.
I looked at the caller ID, and as it was the inspector, he answered it.
"Hi, Inspector. What can I do for you this dismal day?" I asked cheerily.
“They are? Well, we are almost ready to depart.”
"Ok. Thanks for the tip-off."
I disconnected the call.
"The Inspector just told me that the ANPR Cameras on the M6 has reported that some vehicles belonging to Jonjo or his crew are heading this way, and that we need to get out of here pronto. He said that the last report showed them passing Stoke Services.”
“Well, what are we waiting for, eh?” answered a fully covered Heather.
She quickly finished dressing me, and with just the one veil covering my eyes, we left the house for the last time.
Once we were off the property and with the gates closed behind us, we turned left away from the direction that Jonjo and his crew would come. A couple of hundred yards down the road, Heather turned the car around, and we sat parked at a bus stop. We waited
for our visitor's welcome or not to arrive.
One man, dressed all in black jumped out of the first vehicle to open the gates. The vehicles then disappeared inside the property. As they did so, I dialled '999' from a phone, that Heather had bought the previous day.
"Police, please," I said from underneath the Niqab.
“Yes. Four vehicles with at least six heavily armed men inside have just broken into 278 Knutsford Road. Come quickly. One of them is believed to be Jonjo Mackay.”
Before any further questions could be asked, I ended the call. I didn't stop to switch the phone off, but simply removed the back, the battery and finally, the SIM card. I threw the SIM card out of the car window.
“I think we can get out of here now,” I said calmly.
Heather drove us down the road. We both resisted any attempt to look down the drive towards the house as we went past the entrance.
As Heather pulled onto the M6 and headed north she asked,
“Well, we are free of them for the time being. Where to now?”
“Keep on going. When we are past Lancaster, we can ditch these clothes and find somewhere to stay for a few days. I need to see someone in Kendal. We will need to ditch the car as well.”
“What do you need to see someone about?” asked Heather.
“Money and stuff. The sort of thing that is needed to start afresh.”
Heather didn’t answer.
The journey north was done mostly in silence. Once they'd passed Preston, both of them began to relax.
“Heather, I didn’t say this before, but I want to now,” I said softly.
“I am truly sorry for putting you into danger like this. It was not my intention in any way shape or form.”
"I know. Just a coincidence really. What's done is done. I didn't know who you were involved with when I accepted this assignment, but it is too late to back out now.”
Heather pulled off the Motorway near Lancaster, and stopped in a fairly secluded spot so that their disguises could be removed.
“I’m glad to be out of that,” I remarked.
Heather smiled,
“I thought it suited you very well.”
I glared at her.
“You know that we need to keep a very low profile. Jonjo will be royally pissed off for not finding you at the house. If the polis got there in time, he’ll be livid as well as possibly being banged up again, but Jonjo would never carry a weapon if you get my gist. We may have to travel disguised for some time.”
I knew that she was talking sense.
“I guessed as much even if I don’t particularly like it.”
Then I said, “We need to ditch the car tomorrow or the next day at the latest. If someone connects it to us, then he'll put the word out about it."
Then I added,
“Tomorrow, I'm going to take the bus to Kendal. There is someone I need to see there, and I need to do it alone."
“The bus? Why?”
“Because no one will be looking for me on a bus. When I get back, we can decide what to do next.”
“Will you have some money? I only have enough cash for a few days.”
“Yes. I will have some money plus a new passport?”
“Passport? Where are we going?”
"I don't know yet, but it may be wise to get out of the country for a while."
I did know where we were going, but I wasn’t going to let on for a while. Two can play at the ‘need to know’ game.
Heather couldn’t argue with that.
The next morning, Heather took me to the centre of Lancaster so that I could get the bus.
“Enjoy Morecambe,” I said cheerily as I got out of the car. Heather had said that she was going to Morecambe for the day.
I took the bus north but got off at Carnforth, where, I took the next train south to Preston. The person I wanted to see was not in Kendal but was in Preston. I was not sure that I could trust Heather 100% at the moment. Even so, the less she knew of what I was doing and who I was seeing, the better for her just in case.
“Hello Tony, it has been a while,” said Mr Parry as I was shown into his office.
“Yes, it has Bob. Things are a little difficult at the moment. That’s why I’m here.”
Bob Parry didn't react. He knew that his client would only be here if that were the case.
“What can I do for you today?”
“I need the Safe Deposit key and the other items I left with you for safekeeping.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
Tony looked at his old friend and distant cousin and said,
“I’m going to have to disappear. Some very nasty men are after me. The documents I lodged with you need to be sent to the Police, the newspapers and TV stations today. Put them on the Internet as well. The more people who read them, the better."
“Oh, is it that bad?”
I nodded.
“Worse.”
Nothing more needed to be said. Bob left me alone while he went to retrieve the key and documents from the company safe. When he returned, he gave the key to me.
“There is a DVD in the package,” I said.
“Get copies of it made and sent to the Police and the Media. If you can do it all anonymously the all the better.”
“Do I need to know what is on it before I do it?”
"You can view it. Some of it is pretty horrible, but everything is genuine and is backed up by the documents in the folder."
“What then?”
"Forget that I was ever here, and that I ever had any dealings with you."
Bob did a sharp intake of breath.
“You are in deep shit, aren’t you?”
"Yes, I am, and it was all my own fault. This is part of my insurance policy.”
Bob nodded.
“There is a USB stick in there as well. I’ll need that just in case.”
“Just in case?” asked Bob.
“Just in case what is there in your hands gets suppressed. If the information on the DVD is not acted upon, then I'll post the contents of the USB on social media. That should get some attention from the right people.”
“You don’t take any chances, do you?”
Tony shook his head as Bob gave him a USB stick from the folder.
"I need to be going now, I have a train to catch."
The two shook hands as they parted.
“Will I see you again?”
"Bob, I honestly can't say, but I hope so."
I returned to the railway station and took the next train to Manchester. My first task after arriving there was to buy a briefcase. In less than an hour, I found one in a charity shop that would do perfectly. It was leather and well used which was ideal. Then I walked into a ‘Private Bank’ where my safe deposit box was located.
Twenty minutes later, I walked out with a considerably heavier briefcase. After I'd visited a few more shops, I headed back to the station and a train to Lancaster hoping that I’d not been spotted or followed.
While I waited for the train, I posted a letter to Bob. It gave him total control of my estate should I meet a sticky end.
On the train north, I connected the laptop that I’d bought at a second-hand store to the free WiFi that the operator provided. Once the connection was established, I quickly uploaded a bunch of files to the Internet, and then I sent an email to a friend of a friend in London who I felt I could trust to do the right thing with the data should they get the signal from me. I just had enough time to do that before the train slowed down for the Lancaster stop.
Heather was waiting for me outside the station as arranged.
“How did it go?” she asked once they’d left the station forecourt.
“As well as could be expected,” I replied trying to be non-committal.
“I cashed in some insurance policies, and also activated another one.”
“Are you going to tell me what they are?”
“We need to watch the TV news tonight. There should be at least one item of interest to us.”
Heather looked at him and said,
“You are a canny man Tony. Are you sure you aren’t Scottish?”
I had to laugh. I’d grown used to her sense of humour over these past months. It was a really nice change from the Brummy one.
“I try Heather, I try.”
They’d reached the outskirts of Lancaster and were heading towards the Lake District.
“I think it is time to ditch the car.”
Heather looked a bit concerned.
“You can be connected to me through this. Well, this and my seemingly crooked lawyer. He’s going to get a surprise tomorrow, but he could retaliate and… Well, you know what might happen if you know who gets wind of you helping me."
“What do we do then?”
“Once we get some new wheels, I think we need to put on our Hijabs again and take a very roundabout route to Portsmouth or Poole. I say roundabout because we will avoid all the ANPR cameras apart from the very end of the journey. We will still get clocked by other CCTV systems, but the Polis will have to search manually for them, but as we will have only just purchased the car, it will take a few days for the government systems to catch up.
“How do you know where these ANPR things are?”
Tony smiled.
“As part of proving myself to Jonjo, I acquired a list of locations of the fixed cameras from a slightly bent copper. He was going to need it in the second phase of the operation. It is all part of making a stolen lorry full of Scotch seemingly disappear without trace, from the road system in broad daylight. Getting a 40-tonne HGV from Brum to Felixstowe without going through an ANPR camera is not that easy but it is possible... just.”
Heather smiled.
“Where too next then?”
"Keep on going north. We will turn east and then take the pretty route south. We will have to stop for something to eat, and also to fill up the car. We should do that before we pass the last ANPR Camera on the A66. It will show it heading towards Penrith and Scotland, but it will be wrong.”
“You seem to have this all planned out?”
“Not really. We will just have to take a chance that we can get out of the country on the passports we have with us. Then we’ll head for somewhere to get new ones. What you said about Jonjo got me thinking. That led to this plan of action. It is the best I can do for now.”
“It is a start,” said Heather.
Her voice didn’t have a great deal of certainty about it.
“But I think that you are winging it… aren’t you?”
I didn’t answer but that answer was ‘yes’.
An hour and twenty minutes later, I drove us out of the dealer in an old but serviceable Ford Focus. It had taken a bit longer to get some insurance arranged, but once Heather's credit card had been used, it was relatively plain sailing.
I filled the car full of fuel at a supermarket on the edge of town while Heather did some food shopping. We’d need some supplies for the journey south. If all went well, we would be on the road most of the night, which thankfully was pretty short at this time of year. Finally, we stopped at the next Motorway Service Station northbound on the M6 and transferred our bags to the new car. Heather then left the keys in the ignition of her old car and wound down one window. If ever there was a car to steal, then this was it.
Then I joined Heather in the car and looked at her.
“Ready?”
“I suppose so. Where too now?” she asked. She was taking the first stint behind the wheel.
“Up to Penrith, the East on the A66 towards Scotch Corner. Then we turn around as if we had taken the wrong turning. Then we go past the ANPR camera that is located on the way into the town. After that, we take the back roads south. All the way down to the south coast.
Our journey to Portsmouth was roundabout and slow at times. We came down from Portsdown Hill and crossed over onto the Island of Portsmouth just before 11:00 the next day. I directed Heather to a supermarket on the eastern side of the island. Portsmouth was a key naval base and cross-channel port, so it was ringed with ANPR Cameras, but at this point in our journey, it didn't matter one little bit.
“We can ditch the car here. According to the map on my phone, there is a railway station called Hilsea, about half a mile away. We can take the train from there.”
“Aren’t we taking the ferry from Portsmouth?”
I smiled and shook my head.
“That’s what I want people to think. Well, if anyone has tracked us this far. No, we’ll take the train to Brighton. Then we carry on east along the coast to Ashford, and then to Dover. Hopefully, we can get on a ferry and be more than halfway to France before we get spotted by the Polis.”
Tony loved using the Scottish term for Police.
Heather looked rather tired.
"You look beat. You should try to get some rest on the train."
“I feel drained,” came her reply.
They took the minimum of things from the car and left it. Out of habit, Heather locked it.
“Leave it open and the keys in the ignition. Some local chancers will hopefully find it before the Polis. They will make it either disappear, and be broken up or they'd have some fun before torching it when they are done."
She laughed.
“You know how criminals behave very well don’t you?”
“I should do. I was one of them for more years than I should have been.”
I returned to an anxious-looking Heather.
“You look pleased with yourself?”
“A good number of people that the Polis are after will be getting their collars felt today.”
“Is that your doing?”
I nodded.
"Yep. The list that I provided inclused atl east a dozen corrupt cops, including an Assistant Chief Constable will be feeling the heat. I think that one of them was feeding info to Jonjo.”
“Any news about the people who came to visit where we were yesterday?”
“Just this,” he said pointing to a small item in the paper.
The article simply said that, six men had been arrested on suspicion of possessing illegal firearms near Knutsford the previous afternoon.
“No mention of Jonjo?”
“I would not expect him to do his dirty work. These are mere foot soldiers. They might not even be in his crew, but just some thugs hired to get me. From what you told me, he does not get involved until the final act.”
Heather didn’t say anything.
“A penny for them?”
“You are awfully trusting of a lot of people, aren’t you?”
I chuckled.
"I suppose so, but for most of them, money talks. If they cross me, all I need to do is put the word out, and bang goes a lot of their… shall we say more lucrative business. They keep profitable by saying nothing to anyone about anything. When you are wheeling and dealing as I was, you get involved with an awful lot of people. I was often the middle-man between rival groups. I just took a small cut of whatever passed through my hands. As long as both sides were aware of how much, and that I wasn't getting greedy, my 'handling fees' were seen as part of doing business. Because I was the middle-man in many instances of illegality, I picked up a lot of dirt on an awful lot of people. As long as I was in business no one minded. Jonjo put a stop to that. For him, it was obey him or disappear as you described the other day. As a result of the information I leaked, I would expect that his crew or rather what's left of it will find times rather hard in Brum for a while.”
“I think I understand,” replied Heather after a bit of thought.
We had to change trains twice more before we arrived in Dover. A bus took us to the Ferry terminal.
As we “Can you buy the tickets on your cards? I don’t want to use mine until we are out of the country.”
“Are yours likely to be being monitored?”
I laughed.
“No. I don’t use any plastic here. Cash only I’m afraid. That makes it far harder for anyone to track my spending. My cards are for use in Europe as they are in Euros.”
That sort of made sense to Heather. She raised an eyebrow at the mention of my cards being in euros but said nothing.
Both of us were a bit on edge until the ferry to Ostend had left the outer breakwater of the harbour.
“Here, I’ll give you the cost of the tickets,” I said as we left the deck and went inside the ship.
“You don’t have to, you know.”
"Why don't you take the cash and get some Euro currency? That way you will have some spending money."
“What about you? Don’t you need some?”
“I have some.”
I lied a little bit. I had more than a hundred thousand euros in the briefcase I was carrying. Most of it was in twenty and fifty euro notes.
I bought us some Coffee while Heather went to the Bureau de Change to get some Euros.
She seemed happy when she returned with the cash.
“Ok, mister man of mystery, where too next?”
“We get the train to Brussels and then towards Germany and the town of Baden-Baden. There is a place there where we can lie low for a bit. Then we can decide what to do next."
“Why Baden-Baden?”
“It sounded cool. It was either there or Kassel, but that's farther away."
“It does not seem as if anyone has been here for months?” commented Heather as we entered the apartment.
"It has been more than nine months since I was last here. That was for the Oktoberfest," I replied.
“It is a nice place. How did you come by it?”
“I won it in a Poker Game. The previous owner thought his full house could beat mine.”
“What did you put up as a bet?”
“My place in Brum,” I replied confidently.
“You must have had a good hand then.”
“Aces over Kings beats Queens over Jacks any day of the week. He’d discarded an Ace as well.”
She came and sat opposite me at the small table in the kitchen.
“Right,” I said.
"I think it is time for you to come clean don't you think? I know that you have been calling someone on your phone. I counted three times since we got off the boat. Who is it, and why are you calling them? If it is Jonjo then, I will be very unhappy."
Heather’s shoulders sagged.
“How did you twig that I had another phone?”
"I was driving early this morning, and you dozed off. I did a quick rummage through your bag and found a phone. It wasn't your normal one, so I had to assume the worst. Was I right?"
She looked at me for several long seconds. Then she dug into her bag, and from where I knew not, she found something and tossed it to me.
I looked at it. It was a Police Warrant card.
“You are a cop?”
“Yes, Detective Sergeant Heather Watson of the Met Police."
“Did that detective who came to visit us the other day know about you?”
She shook her head.
“Only six people in the world apart from you know. If Jonjo got word then we’d both be dead inside an hour, two at the outside. Well, probably a bit longer now that we are out of the UK, but he’d put the hit out on us just the same.”
“Why?”
“I’m his sister…”
Those three words hit me right where it hurts the most. I was about to say something but Heather carried on.
“Jonjo does not take kindly to anyone in the family going over to the dark side. I volunteered for this assignment hoping to nail his ass once and for all. I failed."
“We escaped. Isn’t that good enough?”
She shook her head.
“Not really. He’s still in business.”
“Why did you go against him?”
“More years ago than I care to remember, he spotted our Da talking to a copper in a Pub. He took that as a sign that Da was ratting him out. So, he killed our Da with his bare hands as a lesson to the rest of us. Da wasn’t ratting us out as we later found out. They were talking Football. But, what he did to his own flesh and blood ultimately led to him being kicked out of Glasgow. Even most hardened criminals felt sick at what he’d done. Da was like you, on the wrong side of the law but always played by the rules. Jonjo tore up the rule book, and the natives didn't like that. When they kicked Jonjo out, the Polis turned a blind eye to their crimes for a month as a sort of reward for getting rid of Jonjo.
“Who were you calling?”
“My Handler in MI5.”
“The spooks?”
"Yeah. As you know, Jonjo has been dealing in some nasty weapons. What you don’t know is that he has been selling them to some very bad people.”
“Terrorists?”
“You said it, I didn’t but yes both in Eire and Central Africa.”
“Will we be safe here?”
Heather nodded.
"Yes. I failed in my mission, and they want me to go home. You turned out to be too small a fry to get Jonjo to move in a way that would put him away for life."
I felt completely let down.
“So, all that… what we did last night and today was a waste of time?”
“Mostly it was yes.”
“Only Mostly?”
“Yes,” she said with a huge sigh in her voice.
“The problem is that I ignored all the warning signs and fell for you. Fundamentally, you are a nice person and not the hardened criminal that West Midlands Police made out. I should have pulled out weeks ago, but I didn't."
“So, all that blarney about being a nurse and stuff was crap?”
She shook her head.
"I was a nurse in the Army. I did a tour of Iraq. When I left the Army, I had seen enough blood and gore to last a lifetime. A friend from Iraq and I joined the Met Police. Jonjo sort of tolerated that because he was in Scotland. When he came south things got a little difficult for me so I transferred to London, and that's when I became a liaison officer between the Met and MI5. Even Jonjo did not want MI5 going up against him. And we wouldn't but for that bungled Armoured Car job last year."
I remembered that. Four innocent bystanders had been murdered by his crew.
“I remember that. Nasty business. I heard tell that Jonjo just laughed it off.”
“Four civilian fatalities were four too many, but more than enough to get us involved. Then you had your accident, and I was assigned to be your rehab nurse.”
"But what about my lawyer? He's crooked as they come, and he arranged it all."
“His secretary is one of us.”
She didn’t need to say anything else.
Then she came and sat beside me.
"As of seventeen hundred today, I'm out of a job. I called MI5 from the ferry and told them where we were, and that I had no idea where we were going and that I quit. Since then I have had a few texts and calls asking me to reconsider. When we changed trains in Koln, I ditched my phone after telling them that we were going to Berlin.
"When you told them that you were quitting, was that when you went to get those Euros?"
She nodded her head.
“Yep.”
“So that’s why you looked so happy when you came back?”
"It was. I'd been struggling with what I should do for days. My handler wanted me to pull out. He even came up to Morecambe to meet me when you were off doing your business. I told him that I was done with everything. He persuaded me to stay on the job for another 24 hours. When I spoke with him when you are getting the tickets and a paper at Brighton, he said that Jonjo had been arrested and charged with six counts of murder, and that was just for starters."
“But… you could have bailed out then?”
She nodded.
"I could, but I didn't."
Then she kissed me. Slowly at first, but then with increasing passion.
When we broke apart, both of us were slightly out of breath.
“So, I’m safe then?”
“Far from it sadly. Jonjo has put a price on your head, and it will still be there in 10 years. When Jonjo decides that someone is for the chop, he puts the money in the hands of a trusted third party, so that even if he were to die tomorrow, the contract on you would still be there just waiting for some lucky sod to find you, and now by implication me as well.”
I was speechless. I’d known for a while that Heather was not quite ‘kosher’ but what she’d told me was almost unimaginable.
[To be continued]
The news that there was still a price on my head rocked me sideways, backwards and finally a somersault that ended with me landing flat on his face.
“So basically, I’m fucked? Up shit creek without a paddle?”
Heather smiled.
“In your current state, yes you are up shit creek.”
“Current state?”
“As Tony.”
I understood what she meant. I was not going to like the next thing.
“Does he know that you are with me?”
Heather thought for a moment.
“Only if that copper who visited us describes me to someone from Jonjo’s crew who knows me. I don’t know how many from the Glasgow days are still with him or if that copper is bent.”
“Oh, he’s bent all right. Not bent towards Jonjo though.”
“Really?”
"Oh yeah. Not big time bent, but more of the scratch my back, I'll scratch yours sort of bent. For example, he looked the other way regarding some furniture I err… came by in return for a tip about some people traffickers. He got the collar and the kudos, and I made about ten grand on a deal."
She grinned.
“I get it.”
“Speaking of money, how much do you have?”
“A few hundred Euros. Why?”
“That won’t get you very far,” I replied as I reached for my briefcase.
I pulled out the plastic bag that I’d retrieved from my safe deposit box.
I opened it and gave her a pile of euro notes. They were mostly fifties but a few twenties thrown in for good measure.
“That’s your cut.”
“Cut?”
“This is what I retrieved from my safe deposit box. I’m giving you half. We will need plenty of cash to do whatever we need to keep safe from you know who.”
“I can’t take this.”
“Yes, you can. If you want to disappear into the night, then there is around fifty grand there. That should get you somewhere where Jonjo won’t find you.”
Heather looked surprised and sad at the same time.
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“I’m giving you an out. A chance for you to head off into the sunset and start afresh without me.”
Still looking sad, she asked,
“Do you want me to go?”
I smiled back at her.
“No, I don’t. But I'm trying to be realistic, and we both know Jonjo, if it does not end well, then don't blame me."
“I understand.”
There was silence between us.
“I don’t want to go,” said Heather slightly reluctantly.
“That’s good then.”
She pushed the money back towards me.
“No, it is yours. Take it.”
“But is it most of what you have?”
He laughed.
“No, it isn’t most, but it is part of my emergency stash.”
“You have more?”
“Well, yes I do.”
Then I took a deep breath and then said,
“I think you need to know who you are hooking up with.”
“I know. I read your file before accepting the assignment.”
“You don’t know shit, forgive me my language. All you know is a few facts about a few of the jobs I did. Even when we were talking in the evenings during my rehab, I never told you anything that was not public knowledge. Am I right, or am I right?”
Heather didn’t show any emotion.
“Och, you are right. Now what?”
“I tell you about myself, and then you can decide if you want to stay. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“I survived in my line of work by being as you said, rather canny. You knew that, but canny means different things to different people. I never felt the need to flash the cash. I lived within my means. By that, I declared an income to the taxman and lived within that amount. Any audit that was done on me would show that. Everything else went into the bank, or rather a safe place that no one would ever find. I kept a deliberately low profile, which was the reason I lasted so long. I drove a twelve-year-old Golf, for heaven’s sake. Almost all of my clothes were from the likes of Primark and Matalan. I didn't win my home at poker as I said, but was bought at auction at well below market price. The Poker story was what I spread about to keep nosy parkers out of my life and was part of keeping my head down and not making enemies. Unless you dig down really deep, it appeared that I had a totally legal life.”
“You could be from my part of the world. You seem to be very canny with your money?”
“As I said, if you flash the cash in my business then other people in my line of work would take note and get envious. That leads to them wanting part of your business, and then all of it. That usually leads to you meeting a sticky end if you are lucky. By appearing to be just making a few quid, I survived and prospered. I never screwed the people I worked with and kept my ‘fee’ down to a manageable size. That’s how I managed to get this sort of money over the years.”
My eyes went down to the table.
“In the end, the temptation to make one last big killing got the better of me. You know the rest. Yes, I was about to quit the game before it all went pear-shaped.”
Heather said nothing for a bit.
"I detect that there is a lot more you aren't saying. Am I right, or am I right?" she said smiling.
Tony laughed.
“Touché!”
Then with a straight face, he said,
“Yes, there is. I began to put plans in place for my retirement a few years ago, and this place is my get-out of England bolt hole. That’s why I knew how to get here from Oostende without looking at a map or anything. I have… well sufficient resources available to me, but… as I said earlier we are shit creek without a paddle. Money isn’t everything unless I can trust… trust you with my life.”
I looked at her hoping for an answer. None was forthcoming.
“Are you really done with the spooks?”
Then I realised that I’d been flitting about all over the place.
"Sorry, Heather. I'm not making much sense."
She smiled.
“It does not matter. That is just you being you when you get nervous. I saw it the first time I gave you a massage. You said all sorts of things that made no sense until you sorted them out.”
“Sorry for that.”
"It is ok. You are on edge. That is natural. Here we are in your safe house, but because I'm here is not so safe anymore, and your mind is going off at all sorts of tangents at the speed of light."
“Can I try to summarise what you have said?”
“Please…”
“I’ve done with the ‘spooks’ as you call them. I tossed the mobile phone into a bin at Koln Bahnhof, so I have no idea where it is.”
She took a deep breath.
“I’m not going anywhere. For starters, the last text I received before we sailed told me that I’ve pretty well burned my bridges with my family. They put two and two together and guessed that I'd helped take Jonjo down. They don't like Jonjo, but there is an unwritten rule that you don't go against anyone in your family, no matter how bad they are. Then the remnants of his crew will be gunning for me probably just as much as they are for you."
“Then we should go our own separate ways then?” suggested Tony.
Heather shook her head.
"The people I worked for think that I'm on my own. The Polis also think that. I made sure that when talking to my friends, I never talked about 'us'. I told my handler that I would be going my own way once we reached Berlin, which was a lie, but they weren't to know that. I'm sure that information may well make its way to Jonjo in a few days. That tells me that we should stay together, but we have to change our appearance."
I knew what she had in mind for him.
“So, I become a woman. What about you?”
Heather smiled.
“It is more than that. You have a new identity. I don't so I'll need to get one as well as change my appearance. Then we have to appear as normal people."
“Normal?” he replied with a bit of a laugh in his voice.
“To a lot of people, two women living together isn’t normal.”
She shook her head.
"No, I mean having bank accounts, paying taxes and having jobs. That is sort of normal. That way you don’t bring any suspicion to you and your lifestyle.”
"Yeah, and a cottage with roses around the door?"
We both laughed yet we both knew that it would not be easy.
Then I said,
“You seem to have all this worked out, don’t you?”
Heather smiled back at me.
“Just the general idea. Driving down the length of England through the night gave me plenty of time to think.”
“And there I was thinking that you were sleeping…?”
“On the subject of sleep? I only see one bedroom and just one bed.”
I let out a huge sigh.
“To be honest, I never expected to have company when I eventually had to use the place.”
Heather sighed but not as deep as mine.
“Left, or right?”
“Eh?”
“Which side do you want to sleep on?”
“Oh?...”
"Look, Tony, we both need some sleep. We should get some food in and go from there. I think we are sufficiently off the beaten track to be safe for a while."
“We are going to need more than a while if you think that it is going to be easy to turn me into a woman,” I said with more than a touch of defeatism in his voice.
“Now Laddie! That’s not the way forward. Think positive.”
“Yeah. Things have hardly been positive for me since I saved that kid from being mown down.”
The dawn of a new day didn't bring any solutions to their problems. A more urgent need was to get some food for them to eat. There was nothing apart from some Instant Coffee that was well past its 'use by' date.
“I’ll go and get some messages,” said Heather.
“Where is the best place to shop?”
“There is a Lidl about half a mile from here. Turn left out of the front door and take the second right. You can’t miss it.”
Then I added,
“Why don’t I come too?”
Heather gave him her ‘look… I’m in charge here’ stare.
"When I get back, and we have some food inside us, we need to decide what we do next. Not the grand plan but the next step in the plan.”
I knew exactly what Heather had in mind. I knew that it was just about the only option.
“Ok, I’ll start thinking about it.”
“Good... you do that. Do you have any shopping bags?”
After being shown where they were kept in the kitchen, Heather disappeared promising not to be long.
The next hour was about the longest I’d ever spent. I kept wondering if Heather was going to or already had done a runner. I paced around the apartment looking for something to do, but failed to come up with any inspiration whatsoever.
The relief I felt when he heard the door to the apartment was palpable. I went to greet Heather and got a bit of a surprise.
She was carrying four carrier bags that were filled with groceries.
“Have you bought the whole shop?”
She smiled.
"Not quite, but there is nothing here. Not even any salt and pepper. That meant that I had to start from scratch. Much of this lot are the basics but it will keep us going for a while.”
I just grunted.
Then I said,
“I’ve been thinking.”
It was Heather’s turn to groan.
I ignored her, and she carried on putting the groceries and other stuff away.
“As I said, I’ve been thinking about what you said about Jonjo going to the ends of the earth to settle a score.”
“That’s how he ensures loyalty.”
"I know that so I'm left with little choice but to hide, which Is not a viable option in the long term… or change how I look totally."
My last words stopped Heather dead.
She turned to look at me.
“What are you saying?”
“You had better come with me.”
He held up his hand for her. She took it but was unsure where things were going.
I led Heather into the hallway of the apartment. On one side there were several cupboards. Tony took a key and unlocked one of the three similarly sized doors.
Heather gave a shriek of surprise when she saw the contents.
“Whose clothes, are they?”
"Whose do you think they are? Jonjo’s? They are mine.”
Heather tried and failed to suppress a giggle.
“How… How long…”
Then she giggled again.
“Ever since I was about eight or nine.”
There was a silence between us that went on for some time.
“This place… Well, it is owned by Steffi Muller. That’s my alter ego.”
A smile spread over Heather’s face.
“Fuck it, Tony, you are a sly bugger, aren't you? Why didn't you just leave me back in Kendal if you had this place all lined up and ready to go?"
“Oh, believe me, I nearly did. I was waiting for a connecting train at Preston when…”
“Preston? What the heck were you doing in Preston?”
"I was changing trains after I’d been to Manchester to see someone that I know that I can trust. I gave him a little package of information. It contained everything I had on Jonjo and a bunch of corrupt politicians, city officials and police that are on the take."
“But you didn’t keep on going? You could have left me waiting for you?”
“I didn’t. What brought it home was that I saw one of JonJo’s Brummy crew on a Glasgow bound Train. It pulled into Preston just before mine pulled out. As bad luck would have it, his bit of the train stopped right opposite where I was sitting. He saw me, and after a big double take, he pointed his finger gun style at me and smiled. That did it for me. You had put yourself on the line for me, so I figured that we were in this together. Believe me, I almost fled right there and then, but I stood my ground. I returned a cutthroat sign to him. He just laughed. Then my train pulled out of the station, and we went off to our separate destinations.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me about all this before?”
“That’s the hard bit. Everyone here has only ever seen me as Steffi. I wasn't sure how you would take the idea of me becoming a woman full-time.”
Tony let that sink in for a few seconds.
“Oh shit!” said Heather.
“I’m sorry for dragging you over here on false pretences, but we both know that you had to get out of the UK and away from JonJo’s crew. This was always going to be my bolt-hole when things went sour. When I set this place up, I had an exit bag all ready to go at my flat. The tossing of it, and the destruction of those paintings were a real bummer. Thankfully, my Steffi Passport, and other bits of ID were kept in my safe deposit box."
"What was so special about those paintings? If I remember correctly, you said to the Inspector that they were reproductions. They were real, weren’t they?”
I nodded.
“Only about two to three grand each, but that’s not the point. They were the first things I bought just for me. I was over in Cambridge delivering some… well lets’ just say, some fairly dodgy goods and I was early for the drop off so I parked up at the Railway Station and went for a walk. Those paintings just shouted ‘buy me’ from the gallery window. Anyway, I went back a few days later and bought them. They represented my first few deals after I left home. That was seven… no eight years ago now.”
“Can I see Steffi?”
I laughed.
"Yes of course you can, but let me warn you, I'm not very accomplished when it comes to applying makeup. I enjoyed letting you do my eyes before we did that runner from Cheshire."
It was Heather’s turn to go a bit red in the face. Then she laughed.
“Looking back at it, I realise that you didn’t put up much of a fight when I suggested wearing the Hijab.”
“You had a job to do that was time critical, and I let you do it. Besides, it gave me time to think. I was still undecided about going with you anywhere other than away from the place where I did my rehab. Seeing that man on the train made my mind up for me.”
There was an uneasy silence between us.
Then Heather said,
“Do you want to fuck me?”
I just froze on the spot.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”
I managed a small smile.
"To be honest, Heather, I didn't want to bring up the subject of 'us' as in being a couple. I did get serious with one woman a few years ago. I thought that we were set for life so I told her about my other side. She laughed in my face. She was only with me because I took her to pretty decent places to eat and the like, and I was able to satisfy her sexually. One night after one last bit of sex, she walked out of my life. We both knew that it was over between us. Since then as you observed, I didn’t have anyone in my life.”
"Until me, that is?"
I looked at Heather through rather sad eyes.
"If we are going to make a go of it then we need to be a couple, but at this point in my life, having sex with you is not high on my list of things to do."
Heather laughed.
"Then it is exactly the right time. If we don't do it now, then at some point, it will come between us.”
She took my hand and led me into the bedroom.
[to be continued]
I’d forgotten how nice it was to wake up with someone of the opposite sex lying in bed next to me. It had been a good night. We’d both needed to unwind. Heather was right. A good romp in bed had been a great way to relax, and be normal for a few hours.
Heather had made it clear from the outset, that this was a one-off event. For some strange reason, that had made it all the more enjoyable.
I looked over and saw that she was still away with the fairies. I slid out of bed and headed for the kitchen and the coffee machine.
I was halfway through my second cup when a voice behind me said,
“Leave some for me! I’m going for a shower.”
Heather was up and about. That was both good and bad. Good that she was up. Bad in that today would more than likely be my first day as Steffi or the version of Steffi that Heather would get to bend and mold to her satisfaction. Heather had shown me how she worked when she had a target to aim at. My rehab had been a big target for her. At times, it had been painful but she got me through it. That was one of the reasons I'd let her come here with me, was that I wanted her to educate me in the finer arts of being Steffi but was far too scared to mention it at the time.
“You were deep in thought when I got up weren’t you?” said Heather as she poured herself some coffee.
“Yeah. Just thinking about the future and the stonking great mountain that lies ahead of both of us.”
“Well, Steffi… How is your German?"
“A little rusty but having been born on an Army base here, I was bilingual until we moved back to Birmingham when I was eleven.”
“I wondered why you chose here. It now makes sense.”
“Even if I have a Westphalian accent… That is noticeable in this part of the world. At least it isn’t as guttural as North German.”
“And?” asked Heather reading my mind.
“There aren’t a lot of brits living around this part of Germany. Yanks yes, but that is because this was part of the American Sector after the war. We as in the Brits were farther north. One place we were based was at Bunde when my father was with ‘Two Div Signals’. That is the second division of the Royal Signals.”
“You are a dark horse,” aren’t you?”
“Not really. As I said yesterday, keeping my cards close to my chest, is… Well, I’d like to think that it played a good part in keeping me in the shadows for as long as it did.”
“About those shadows? Any update on the arrests in the UK?”
“Yeah.”
I opened my laptop and showed her the page that I’d been looking at earlier.
The headline read, “How far does this corruption go?”
“You did keep some more data bombs in reserve, didn’t you?”
"Yes, there is. If I disappear or die, it will get released. There are a few politicians from all the major parties both in the West Midlands and in Westminster that will have to fall on their collective swords if it does get out. I have pictures of bribes being accepted and details of properties rented for their bits on the side so to speak.”
“You might be a pretty face but underneath you are a weasel.”
I laughed.
“Pretty? Hardly. At least not without some expertly applied makeup,” I replied looking at her.
“I’m hardly the person to do it. I was never keen on wearing a lot of slap. One thing about being a nurse is that in most areas, you simply can’t wear much more than some lippy.”
“I’ll need to go out soon. I have to visit the Post Office and collect my mail.”
“Are you expecting something?”
“I hope so but, in any event, there will be some to deal with. Since I bought this place, I’ve tried to get here every four months or so. My accident happened a couple of weeks before I was due to come over.”
“There was nothing about this place in your MI5 file.”
“But this place falls under MI6 does it not?”
“Yeah. But even so, there was nothing about Germany or trips here. All that it said was that you took a number of regular breaks to either France or Italy.”
I smiled back at her.
“That was true but was a diversion. Say, I flew to Venice for a weekend break. There is a hotel that would have records showing that I checked in and checked out as planned. Once checked in, I’d take the train here. The high-speed rail network in Europe is surprisingly good you know. I’m sure that you can fill in the blanks. If you time it right, you can get here from Venice and back in a day. The same goes for Paris. Trains to a station not that far from here run from the Gare de L'est which is just two minutes’ walk from where the Eurostar terminates. The people I associated with in Brum were under the impression that I had a bit on the side and those trips were for our clandestine meetings. A hint or two there and a hint there… I’m sure that you get the idea.”
Heather shook her head.
“You did string me along, didn’t you?”
I chuckled.
“No more than you, nurse come police officer come MI5 agent.”
“Touche!”
We both laughed at the temporary relief.
“That will have to do for now,” said Heather as she finished styling my hair almost two hours later.
I looked at her efforts in the mirror.
“That’s far better than I could have done.”
“Practice Steffi, practice.”
“I know and I’m going to get plenty of that while we are here.”
Heather didn’t reply.
“Are you thinking of bailing out?”
She shook her head.
“I was just trying to list all the things that I’m going to have to teach you. It is pretty long and I’m sure that it will get longer.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Shall we go out?”
Again, she hesitated.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you think that we were followed?”
“No, it isn’t that. You just seem to have come alive this past hour. It is as if I have let a demon escape.”
I laughed.
“No demon, Heather dear, just a plain brown moth emerging from its larval stage."
“Why not a butterfly?”
“That my dear is reserved for you. I’m the plain Gypsy Moth while you are the Painted Lady.”
We both laughed as we got ready to go out.
“I’m glad that it was useful.”
She held up a dress that I’d bought for her.
“Do you want me to wear this tonight?”
“I’d like it very much.”
Then she sighed.
“Your wardrobe is far more… vibrant than I’m used to?”
“Vibrant? I’ve never thought of it that way. I just bought things that I liked… and before you say it, I know that I don’t have any real sense of what goes with what from wearing it. Most of my ideas were gained from watching people at the Bullring or Merry Hill[1] buying stuff. What I do know now, is that a lot of what I have is for women a lot younger than the likes of us.”
Heather laughed.
“Speak for yourself. The right clothes can take years off a woman’s apparent age.”
“Or make her look like mutton dressed as lamb?”
“Speak for yourself.”
I sighed.
“While we were out just now, did you notice what sort of clothes that women of about our age were wearing?”
She didn’t answer.
“In case, you didn’t notice, they were simple practical clothes. It was good that it was raining and we had our coats on but I know that what I was wearing was not like everyone around us.”
Heather thought for a moment.
“Yes, you are right.”
“What I have is more for going out when as you say, you want to take years off your apparent age.”
“Then you will need to get some other clothes, won’t you?”
“As will you.”
Heather glared at me for a second. Then she smiled.
“A new start for both of us then?”
“Exactly,” I replied.
“What do you think of the result?” I asked Heather as I switched off my laptop.
Jonjo’s trial that had been held at the Old Bailey in London, had just finished. He’d been found guilty of ordering nine murders over a period of six years. He’d been sentenced to a whole life term. Five members of his ‘crew’ had also received jail terms of at least 30 years.
“He got a small part of what he deserved,” she said softly.
“Do I detect a twinge of regret?”
“There is some because he is my flesh and blood, but the man is or rather was a mobster straight out of the Capone model.”
“Now he’s going to be taken back to Glasgow. Then the real circus will begin,” said Heather.
“You think that he’ll get off?”
“He’ll never stand trial there. If you think that you had a lot of dirt on a lot of people… then think again. There are people all over Scotland that owe him big time. Then again, there are a load of people with a score to settle with him. I'd back the latter to have someone shank him while he is on remand. It will show the underworld that no one, even Jonjo is above retribution if they go too far. That is one way out…"
“Escape then?”
“That or he’d die trying to. There is no way that Jonjo will ever serve a day of any sentence in Scotland.”
“That’s very a fatalistic point of view?”
“I grew up with the bastard trying to own me, didn’t I?”
“When I was sixteen, he wanted to sell me out to a rival leader just to get someone inside his camp.”
That was news to me.
“What did you do?”
Heather smiled.
“I went to the other gang and told them what was supposed to happen. It turns out that they knew all about it. They had a mole deep inside his gang.”
“What happened then?”
“I stole his wallet early one morning and simply walked away, or rather took the train to Manchester and got a job. As soon as I turned eighteen, I started training as a nurse in the Army. Even Jonjo got the message and a truce was called but I never forgot what he wanted to do to his very own sister.”
“To the rivalry with the other gangs?”
“Oh that… There was some ‘example making’ where a few foot soldiers on each side were sacrificed as in getting sent down to Barlinnie prison for at least a ten stretch. Then they joined forces only for Jonjo to get run out of Scotland a year later after he’d got the wrong end of the stick with my Pa and a copper talking footie. The dickhead never thought that if Da was ratting him out, he would not do in in a pub just across the street from Ibrox Park and in view of everyone.”
“How ironic…?”
"That was the only time in his life where he was outplayed. Mind you, was his very own fault for being so paranoid."
“Can we do anything to stop him… getting free?”
Heather shook her head.
“If my old boss is on the ball then he’ll be well aware of what may well go down before his trial.”
“And if he isn’t?”
Heather smiled,
“As they say, that is well beyond my pay grade.”
“Pay grade? You are not exactly in gainful employment at the moment, are you?”
“That’s true,” she replied laughing.
"I think that we need to get some air. Fancy a walk?
“Then… some Coffee and Torte at the café near the river?”
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” I replied grinning.
“Do you know what today is?” I asked Heather a few days later.
“No. Is it something special?”
“It is one year since you came into my life.”
“Oh… I forgot all about that.”
“It has been a pretty good year, hasn’t it?”
“Not bad. You have come a long way Steffi, a very long way.”
“Are you happy here?”
“Yes… But I get the feeling that you are about to say something very important?”
“Sort of. About us?”
Heather sat and waited for me. This is one of the many things that I’d grown to love about her.
“I… I don’t want you to go away… ever.”
“Me going away? Where do I have to go other than here?”
“You were in the Bahnhof yesterday. I saw you looking at train times when I came out of the bookshop.”
"Bummer. Caught in the act. Yes, I was looking at the train times. We haven't been out of the city, since we came here. I was thinking of a trip to the Black Forrest.”
“That is a great idea.”
“You don’t sound all that convinced?”
“I was thinking about us.”
“Oh… that us?”
I nodded my head.
Heather reached over the table and took my hand.
“Aren’t we good?”
I didn’t reply.
“You want more don’t you?”
I nodded my head.
“I’ve been with you 24/7 for the past year. I never managed more than a month or so with a girlfriend before that. I like being with you.”
“I love you and have done for months.”
“Were you scared to tell me?”
“I was but… What about you?”
It was Heather's turn to think hard.
“It is a bit complicated,” she said eventually.
I said nothing. I couldn’t all sorts of things were flashing through my mind. Most of them were not good.
“I was… engaged to be married before I was assigned this case.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Do you remember that day you went off to god knows where?”
“Yeah. You went to Morecambe to meet your handler.”
Heather nodded her head.
“I met with him and told him that it was over between us.”
“What? You were engaged to your handler? Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Not exactly. I didn’t go there with intending to do that but I was well over an hour early so I parked myself in a café not far from where we were due to meet.”
“I remember you telling me that it was by the old railway station.”
"That's the place. I was just getting ready to leave when his car drew up nearby. He got out of the driver's door. That was good. What I didn't expect was that a heavily pregnant woman got out of the passenger's door and then after kissing him, she got in the car and drove it away.”
“That wasn’t good to see, was it?”
“That’s an understatement. I had it out with him at my meeting. I told him that it was over and that I was done with the department. He accepted that it was over between us but refused to accept my resignation.”
“But you said that you had quit?”
"I did. After she went off in the car with his partner, I called his boss. I told her everything and resigned on the spot. Her last words were, do what you think is right but persuaded me to hold back on the resignation. I did until the news about Jonjo broke. That was it. My work in the Polis and MI5 was done.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say that even when we got here and had sex, I was not even contemplating getting into a relationship with another man let alone one who has been living as a woman these past months. Then the other day, while I was in the railway station, I have to admit that I did think about leaving but… I couldn’t. I wanted to stay… for good.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I… I wanted to but somehow, I couldn’t. I’ve never felt like that before. I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about. We have both been around the block more than once haven’t we, eh?”
“That’s true.”
“Where do we go from here? There is the little matter of the price on my head.”
“I’ve been thinking about that myself. There is only one way to stop it and that is to go and face my brother.”
"What? Us go to Barlinnie? Are you mad or something?"
Heather nodded.
“That’s exactly what I mean apart from you being your old self for one or two days.”
“I need to think about this.”
“Jonjo needs to understand that you didn’t rat him out. Why would you do that and get so badly hurt?”
“Jonjo will see it as nothing more than me giving myself an alibi.”
“You know who did rat him out don’t you?”
“I do. It took me a while but I worked it out. He’s back in CID in Liverpool. At least his name has appeared in reports of a trial at Liverpool Crown Court as someone who gave evidence in a case a month or so back."
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t know how. Everything here seems so far away from what happened in Brum a year and a bit ago.”
“You went through a lot before we met.”
"And a lot more afterwards, but I needed to be driven, as you did."
"That sounds very fatalistic?" asked Heather.
"Not fatalistic but the truth. There were times when I could happily have killed you but I got over it and here we are now."
There was silence between us. I broke it.
“I’m a bit scared of trying to be the old me. After so long being schooled as Steffi and, very successfully so, I don’t know how much there is of the old me left and that is all down to you my dear.”
“So, I’m to blame then?”
"No. Far from it. Your hard work has made me the person I am today. Still, a work in progress though, and having to become Tony even if just for a day or so."
Heather reached over and held my hands.
“I’m going nowhere unless it is with you.”
I smiled.
“I guess that we’d better plan our return to the UK then?”
“That’s your job. I’ll get busy with the schnitzel for tonight while you do it.”
[to be continued]
[1] The ‘Bullring’ and ‘Merry Hill’ are shopping centres in and around Birmingham.
Heather left me to sort out our travel arrangements while she beat the hell out of some pork for her Scottish influenced version of schnitzel.
Getting back home would be a bit easier than it was getting to Baden-Baden. We would take a local train to Karlsruhe then an ICE [1] to Paris. Just over three hours on that train and after a short walk from Gare L’Est to the Gare du Nord and we’d be on a Eurostar heading for London.
My big problem was all around my identity. I had to decide two things… well one thing which would decide the second. When should Tony re-appear? Before or after we use the Eurostar.
I’d made little progress on that decision before it was time to eat.
Heather saw through my fake cheerfulness.
“Dithering about when to bring Tony back to life?”
“Yep.”
“Do you have a passport for Steffi? A real one I mean.”
“I do.”
“Then travel to the UK as Steffi.”
“What about you? Won’t your name be on a watch list of some sort?”
“Maybe, but as I have not broken any laws there is no reason to stop me.”
“And afterwards?”
“That is another matter. My former employers might want to keep tabs on me and then by implication, you.”
“We have nothing to hide. We are going to visit Jonjo in prison. End of story. Besides as soon as we apply to see him, it will be a matter of public record.”
“That’s true.”
“Then don’t worry about it.”
“When…?”
“When will we travel? Two days’ time would be good.”
“No… I meant when will Tony re-appear?”
“Oh that?”
“Yes that.”
“We’ll need a hotel in the Glasgow area. Don’t even think of us staying with your family. That would attract a good deal of attention back in your old haunts.”
“I’m ahead of you in that respect. I agree about staying with my family. We could stay outside Glasgow and travel to the prison just for the visit?”
“That seems like a good idea,” I replied smiling.
“That’s when Tony will come back to life… for one performance only you understand?”
“Good. I’ve grown to love Steffi.”
I smiled.
“That’s good to know!”
“Oh you!” said a smiling Heather as she punched my upper arm.
“Yes, but not for the rain.”
We both looked up at the leaden sky. A light drizzle was falling. It had been a fine morning when we had left Baden-Baden.
Heather looked at her phone.
“We had better get a move on, our train to Edinburgh goes in ten minutes.”
“Relax Heather. We only have a short way to go. Platform 6 is right there.”
I pointed at the display above the barrier.
“Ok genius.”
“I’m not a genius. Just practical.”
“I’m beat,” said Heather as she sank onto the large bed in our hotel room in the middle of Edinburgh.”
“It has been a long day but we knew that it would be before we started.”
“Yeah but… Sitting on a train all day is tiring.”
“Never mind. We can lie in tomorrow, take in a few sights have a nice meal or three.”
Heather laughed.
“Or three?”
“Haggis, haggis and neeps and haggis and tatties,” I suggested.
Heather looked around for something to throw at me. Luckily, there wasn’t anything suitable at hand.
Now that we were in Scotland, we submitted our request to see Jonjo. Because Heather was a close relation it should not be a problem, but there was the possibility that he’d blow his top when he saw my name on the request for a visit. I went out early… well fairly early and bought a PAYG phone and sim card. Our German phones were switched off and packed away in cooking foil for the duration. While I was out shopping, I bought some clothes for my brief outing as Tony Spencer. I was not looking forward to being him again. I’d become very comfortable as Steffi. A lot of that was down to the hard work of Heather or as she wanted to be called while we were out of the country, Avril.
I finally found some suitable clothes and shoes after an hour of searching. I headed back to our hotel in plenty of time for us to check out before the 11:00 deadline.
I found Heather literally pacing up and down in our room.
“About time. I was getting worried.”
I smiled back at her.
“Don’t worry my dear. Let me pack these things and we can be off. Our train isn’t until half past.”
“I know but…”
I stopped her complaining by giving her a brief kiss. This was proving a very effective method of stopping her whining.
“I bow to your superior wisdom,” muttered Heather in a slightly sarcastic voice.
I just returned a glare.
Heather just laughed and headed towards the platform for our train to Stirling. We’d booked a hotel near the Castle for a week. I’d protested about us staying in one place for so long but I was overruled by a very determined Heather.
I rather liked it when she was firm with me.
“Stop fidgeting,” said Heather to me as I scratched an itch right at the top of my back.
“These shirts are just uncomfortable and downright itchy.”
She laughed.
Serves you right for buying new stuff. I hit the charity shops and got some almost new stuff. All of it has been washed.
“I know, I know.”
We'd agreed that she should not wear any of the clothes that she'd bought in Germany while for the temporary reappearance of Tony, I needed some male clothes. I hated dressing as him again. To me, he was my past, not the future.
Heather rented a car for our trip to the prison. It was a relatively short drive down the M80 from Stirling and into Glasgow even so, I was a bit nervous about going into a prison of my own free will.
“This way,” said the Prison Officer.
The sounds and smells of the prison were turning my stomach. I was determined not to venture into one ever again. Heather seemed oblivious to the angst that I was feeling. Her eyes were searching for the first glimpse of her brother.
The last set of doors clanged shut behind us and there he was.
Jonjo saw us and waved at Heather. He glared at me. For the time being, I was safe as there were two Prison Officers close by.
“Hello Sis,” said Jonjo.
At least he was smiling.
He didn’t greet me. At least he hadn’t tried to kill me… yet.
“You are looking good Sis,” said Jonjo.
“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself considering.”
“Cut the bluster Sis. I’m in here for the rest of my natural. Even if I’m found not guilty up here, I still have a lifetime in some high security nick down south to look forward to.”
He turned to me.
“So… Sis here hasn’t got tired of you yet then?”
“I didn’t rat you out Jonjo.”
“I know that laddie. The DI from West Midlands gave me the lowdown. It was my effing driver for Christ’s sake. I would have never believed it that he was the filth, a plain-clothes one at that. I had him on my crew for over two years.”
“What about that thing you wanted to do to me.”
“All sorted. The DI was insistent on that. He’s a good cop. God knows, I tried to bend him if you know what I mean but he wasn’t for turning. At least you know where you stand with ones like him. Those insurance policies of yours hurt but after a week in here, I came to understand that I’d gotten sloppy… very sloppy. I trusted all sorts of people that a few years ago I’d not have given them the time of day. Almost all of them tried to screw me but for some reason Tony, you played it straight down the line and to my shame, I let my head be told that it was you who’d dobbed me in.”
“Are you positive about that? The last I heard, there was a big price on my head.”
“Not any longer. I put the word out through my lawyer that the contract was cancelled and that anyone even thinking about going after you would meet a nasty end. You can thank the DI for giving me the lowdown on sis here. I never thought that she’d end up giving rehab to you and the fact that she’s on your side told me that I needed to accept that she is her own woman.”
“Thanks, Jonjo.”
“Those goons who trashed your home have been dealt with. It was canny of you to invest in some art. It was a shame that those numpties didn’t appreciate good art.”
“It was a risk that I took. I’ve sold the place and moved on with my life.”
Jonjo looked at me and then at his sister.
“Are you two for real? As a couple I mean?”
I looked at Heather and smiled.
“We want to give it a go,” said Heather.
Jonjo smiled and looked at me.
“Look after her. She is a one in a million. She had the balls so to speak to get out of the family cocoon down in the city. When she became a spook, we thought the worst about her but she turned out good. She was always the only one of my kin who stood up to me, her Da and even her Ma. That takes guts believe me.”
“Thanks Bro,” said Heather.
Jonjo stood up and took a step towards the door that would take him back to his cell. He stopped and addressed both of us.
“Just stay off the radar ok. There are a few… well more than a few out there who might think that they can get one over on me through you. Understand?”
We both knew what he meant. I'd seen Jonjo make enemies of some nasty people at first-hand.
“Thanks bro. We’ll do our best to keep our heads down.”
Once we were safely outside the prison, Heather said to me, “Don’t believe a word that he said.”
“Why? He seemed pretty contrite?”
“I know his tells. The only really truthful thing he said was right at the end.”
“So, we are screwed then?”
“Not if we keep our heads down.”
We were both pretty quiet during our drive back to Stirling. I was trying to grasp what Heather had said outside the prison. I had sort of hoped that we could come back here and live our lives together but it looked like that it was Germany or nothing.
“Penny for them?” said Heather when we reached our hotel room.
“Sorry darling. I was trying to comprehend what Jonjo had said right at the end as well as what you said about him lying through his back teeth.”
“Sorry about that but it had to be said for both ourselves.”
I sank onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
“It looks like we’ll have to stay in Germany for the time being.”
“That isn’t so bad, is it?” asked Heather.
“We’ll have to find a job. Your nursing qualification should be good but I have nothing.”
“That’s for the future. What are we going to do for the next few days?”
That was Heather down to a tee. She was brilliant at changing the subject to stop an impasse.
“We could go to the Trossachs or should we just call it quits and head back to Germany.”
“Have you forgotten what is happening tomorrow?”
“Oh… that. Neither of us voted so what difference does it make?”
Heather shook her head and gave me a look that said, ‘how can be you be so stupid?’
“If the vote says leave, then we might find it hard to stay in Germany.”
“I already have residency. All we’d need to do is get hitched.”
“You make it sound so simple?” argued Heather.
“Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in this position before.”
I smiled.
“Let’s wait and see. If the polis are right then we won’t be leaving anytime soon.”
“Polls? Since when have they ever been right about anything eh?”
“Ok. Why don’t we just see what happens, but I kinda like the idea of getting hitched.”
“That settles it doesn’t it?” said Heather.
“It does rather. I think that we should head down to London, get all our documents together and get married. Then we go back to Germany and get you registered. Then you can see about getting a job at the local hospital… if that is what you want to do?”
Heather took hold of my hand and smiled.
“Yes, Steffi, I think it is. Sod this dead-end country. But what are you going to do for a living in Germany?”
“As Tony, there would be a limited number of things I could do. But as Steffi, I’m hoping to get some work as a translator or secretary or something like that. The local agencies seem to be wanting that sort of person if their adverts are anything to go by.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
[two months later]
I returned from my job as a receptionist at a small engineering company to find Heather sitting in the kitchen. She was still wearing her nurse's uniform which was out of the ordinary. As soon as I saw her face, I knew that something was wrong and her red eyes told me that she had been crying.
I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. I took her hand in mine.
“What’s wrong my darling? Why have you been crying?”
She pointed to a document and a photo that was sitting on the table.
I read it and had to read it again before what it said sank in even a little bit.
“That is great news my darling.”
She remained impassive.
“I know it will change things, but isn’t it what we both wanted?”
“I… I just didn’t think that it would happen so soon.”
I kissed her before saying,
“All that I know is that we’ll make great mothers.”
Our fresh start was soon going to turn two into three.
[the end]
[1] ICE = German Inter City Express, their version of the TGV.