'Geordie.'
So King had put it about that he was interested in having a chat with a certain Skippy bloke from up North; various contacts in the pubs and clubs had kept an eye out for the spider tattoo; soon the reports had started to come in - in the form of ominous warnings! Skippy was only one member of the gang, and they weren't the sort to mess with. In other words, colect on your insurance, Geordie, and let it go at that.
At the same time, however, King had heard on the grapevine that Skippy was known to frequent a boozer not far from his own East End club.
Wel, despite King's chequered history he was wel past his sel-by date. So he'd taken good advice and from there on kept his nose out... but it hadn't stopped him passing on the information to the Old Bill, namely Jim Banks. It was a mater of principle, so to speak. Honour among thieves, and al that.
Which was how Banks had happened to drop in on the pub in question that night just a month ago ...
'But you hadn't told anyone about your lead?' Harry found it a bit odd.
Bank's incorporeal shrug. Rivalry. It was my case. Maybe I was out of line, out to prove something - out of touch?
But this is England, not the USA, and there was a time when policemen didn't get killed too often in the line of duty, you know? And as far as I was concerned, I was still investigating a gang of car-thieves. Maybe I should have taken a leaf out of Geordie King's book and stepped a bit more cautious.
'You think there's more to it, then? More than just auto theft?'
No, I think they're car-thieves, plain and simple. Mainly young and crazy, and probably into drugs, too. And, fairly obviously, at least one of them doesn't give a kiss-my-arse about human life! Especially the lives of policemen ...
Tell me about the night in question,' said Harry.
I thought you wanted to 'see' it?
'Can we save that until later? Like ... the end?'
And after a pause: My murder?
'If it's not too - oh, shit!' (For Harry had almost said 'painful').
He sensed Banks's grin, however grim. Hey, don't sweat on it, Harry! Let's face it, I don't choose my words any too carefully either! Then, quickly sobering, he continued:
It was a civvies job, which goes without saying. I mean, I haven't worn a uniform in a long time. Nothing fancy, though, because this pub had a rep as a bit of a rough-house. The night was miserable: rain, sleet and all sorts of shit hammering down out of the sky. It was a Friday and the bar was packed with all kinds of sub-human specimens. I had a rum to warm up and bought one for the barman, then asked him if Skippy was in. Good question - bad timing!
A bloke just three stools away straightened up like someone had stabbed him in the back! I'd already checked him out in the bar mirror: about twenty-six or so, pale and pimply, white and ugly, long-jawed, loose-lipped and shifty-eyed, and a crew-cut like the bristles on a shaving brush.
Hardly inconspicuous! Put it this way: you wouldn't want your sister dating this one. But his hand stayed wrapped round a beer on the bar. And that's what settled it.
And it dawned on me: 'Skippy' was probably a foreshortened version of a nickname that must have sounded a bit over-the-top - a bit too Hollywood? -for this bloke's Newcastle chums. So they'd cut 'The Scorpion' down to Skippy.
That's what was on the back of his hand: not a spider but a scorpion. Five legs (what, artistic licence?) stretched their hairy joints down his four fingers and thumb; the beady eyes of the beast were located on his index-and third-finger knuckles, to make them stand out when he clenched his fist; its sting was at the end of a segmented body stretching four inches along his wrist.
And some other stuf: Skippy was in paint- and oil-stained overalls. His hands were dirty, and there was fresh paint under his fingernails. But from the moment I mentioned his name he'd been looking at me - glaring at me - in the mirror. Suddenly the hand disappeared, and Skippy with it. He was out of there.
Well, like I said, the bar was crowded; I couldn't really take off after him like Kojak. (One, it would give me away completely. Two, the bloke was young