The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,99
instinct to hide taking over. He would crouch there in fear, waiting for the banging to start, or a knock at the door. Sometimes the banging came, the sound of a broom knocking against the ceiling, going on for perhaps ten minutes without pause. Sometimes nothing happened and, eventually, after sitting rock-still for five minutes, he would relax and wait for his muscles to stop cramping At such times, he always needed a cigarette. He lit up, inhaled, exhaled, flicked ash into an overflowing ashtray, a graveyard of cigarettes that he never emptied, filling the flat with a charred nicotine stink.
Up down in out back forth.
Every day.
It was a mobile number. He wouldn’t have expected anything else. He imagined a bear-like man at the other end, cradling a tiny mobile phone in his huge paw. They would listen to him and laugh and put the phone down. But he wouldn’t give up. He knew he could persuade them to do it.
He held the receiver in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He dialled the number that Mike had given him and listened to it ring and ring. He expected it to cut to a voicemail message at any moment, but it kept ringing. He was about to put the phone down and try again – thinking there must be some technical problem at the other end – when the ringing ceased.
‘Hello?’
Jamie took a deep breath, and couldn’t think of what to say.
‘Hello?’ the man repeated, confused and a little irritated.
Jamie sensed that the man was about to cut him off. He panicked. ‘I need you to help me.’
‘This isn’t the Samaritans.’
‘No.’ Jamie spoke quickly. ‘I know who you are. You’re Charlie. I need you to help me deal with someone.’
There was a long pause at the other end. Jamie could hear the sound of machinery in the background; drills and JCBs, men talking, cars rushing by. Jamie thought he had been cut off, but then the man said, ‘Who is this? How did you get this number?’
‘A friend gave it to me.’
‘What friend?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
He heard the man suck in air through his teeth. ‘Put the phone down and I’ll call you back.’
‘But–’
The line went dead. Jamie waited. Five minutes passed – five long, long minutes of dread – before the phone rang. Jamie grabbed it, almost hitting himself in the face with it.
‘What do you mean “deal with”?’ the man asked. The background noise had gone. Jamie guessed the man had gone inside somewhere. He imagined him sitting in a car, or a portakabin in a scrap yard. His head was full of movie images: the safe world of movie violence, vicarious thrills for those who lived far from danger. Jamie felt himself to be part of that world now. It was more terrifying than he had ever suspected.
‘I want somebody hurt. Scared.’
A low chuckle. ‘That’s all?’
Jamie realised he was asking if he wanted someone killed. ‘God, no. I mean yes. I mean hurt, but not killed. Frightened off.’
‘What’s your name?’
Jamie hesitated.
‘If you don’t tell me your name you can fuck off right now.’
Jamie paused. ‘It’s James.’
There was silence at the other end. He realised that the man had put his hand over the mouthpiece and was talking to someone else. Mike’s other friend. He wondered if either of them was actually called Charlie. He doubted it. He strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn’t make out anything but the low drone of voices.
‘Give me the details.’
Jamie took a deep breath. ‘OK. It’s my neighbours. There are two of them. They’ve made my life hell and I want them scared off. I want them to know that I’m not going to put up with it any more.’
‘So we’re talking about a warning?’
‘Yes. A warning.’
He heard the man say something to his friend but, again, couldn’t make it out. ‘What the fuck makes you think we’d do something like that? Who told you?’
Jamie had known all along that they wouldn’t do it without knowing who had put him onto them. As far as they knew, he could be a policeman. He could be anyone. And he hadn’t been able to come up with a plausible story. Sorry Mike, he said in his mind, and then he told them.
‘Really?’
They conferred again. Jamie wished he hadn’t had to tell them Mike’s name, but what choice did he have? He knew Mike had left them a message saying he had a job for them. His only worry was