Buried (DC Jack Warr #1) - Lynda La Plante Page 0,26

Ken started a story that was actually interesting. He momentarily slapped his hand down on Jack’s knee, and Jack could feel the clammy dampness of his fat palm.

‘I remember once, Jimmy was showing off to a couple of birds . . . You know that people say being in a rock band gets you all the women you want? You should try Formula One, Jack. Stone me!’ He opened his mouth wide and howled a hot air combo of beer and beef crisps into Jack’s face. ‘Me and Jimmy quickly decided which bird we were gonna ’ave ‒ and then, for some reason I’ll never fathom, he decided that the quickest way into her knickers was to climb the massive fence between them and us, instead of opening the gate . . . which was right there, by the way! Not locked or anything. Course he fell on his arse, didn’t he? Them women walked away laughing their beautiful tits off and Jimmy lay on the ground screaming at the top of his voice, “Me arm! I bust me arm!” And he had. I thought he’d dislocated his shoulder, but he’d actually managed to chip the socket and snap his . . . You know, this bit . . .’ Ken prodded Jack in the clavicle. ‘What a prick. This was just days before the most important race of his life. Jimmy could have been a big name in Formula One, but instead, he vanished without a trace.’

‘People don’t just vanish, Ken.’

‘His name popped up a couple of years later in connection with the Fisher brothers ‒ you know them? Big names down Soho way.’ Jack shrugged. The name ‘Fisher’ meant nothing to him. ‘That’s ’cos you’re a baby. I’m going back a good forty or so years. When proper gangsters ruled the streets, not skinny kids with guns who shout the odds at each other from opposite ends of the estate. That don’t take balls.’

‘How was Jimmy Nunn connected to the Fishers?’

‘Well, all Jimmy could do was drive cars and fix cars, so it must have been one of those two things.’

Ken necked his pint and then looked sideways at Jack. Jack took a £10 note from his wallet and dropped it on the table.

‘I’ve got to go, but you . . .’

Jack’s mobile pinged. And before he could finish reading Maggie’s text, Ken was at the bar buying another pint and a cheeky chaser before Jack left.

‘Keep the change!’ Jack shouted.

*

Jack and Maggie sat in the canteen, eating noodles from a non-specific takeaway right by the hospital’s A & E entrance. It wasn’t a Chinese, or an Indian, or a chippy ‒ but cooked all three amazingly well. As Maggie shovelled the last king prawn into her mouth and listened to Jack, she felt guilty for not being on the rowing machine instead. But he needed her.

‘So, yeah, he was a right prick, by all accounts. Smashed his shoulder and his dreams, all because he was showing off to some woman he fancied. And he must have been with Trudie at the time, so he was an adulterer as well. Nice guy.’

‘It’s not “by all accounts”, is it?’ Maggie reasoned. ‘It’s one account from a man who, by the sound of things, will turn up in A & E with liver failure by the end of the night!’

Jack looked so disappointed in the man he could have ended up calling ‘Dad’. Maggie reached across the table and stroked his arm.

‘Jimmy must have been, what, late twenties in Ken’s story? Of course he was showing off to women. That doesn’t make him a prick, it makes him a boy. He could be a professor of engineering by now. And, if he’s not, who cares? You’ve got to remember, Jack, that this man you’re looking for isn’t your dad. Your dad is the man who’s off on a world cruise tomorrow.’

‘Jesus, is it tomorrow?’

Jack had been told the date they sailed, but hadn’t expected it to come around so quickly.

‘They sail at two, so they’ll need to check in by midday. The cruise is for four months, love, so . . .’

The missing words from the end of Maggie’s sentence were . . . this could be the last time you see Charlie.

Jack’s mind drifted off for a moment as he contemplated his dad dying at sea.

‘Do they have coffins on board cruise ships?’

‘Dozens.’ Maggie smiled gently. ‘Most passengers are well over 70. You know, Jack, you’ve been given a unique opportunity to get everything right, for the rest of his life. Take them