No Business of Mine

Chapter Fourteen

They were waiting for me as I came out of Crystal’s flat. I guess I asked for it. I should have been on my guard after Bradley’s threat, but the hectic couple of hours I’d spent with Crystal had numbed me, and I stepped into the dark street without the slightest suspicion of what was coming to me.

It happened so quickly that I could only give a strangled shout before something crashed down on my head and I blacked out.

I recovered to find myself lying on the floor of a fast moving car, an evil smelling rug over my head and shoulders, someone’s heavy feet on my chest. My head ached, and the rug threatened to stifle me.

I lay still, tried to make out what had happened. I guessed this was Bradley’s idea of teaching me to mind my own business. I wasn’t happy, wondered where I was being taken, and if I was going to have my throat slit. Cautiously I moved my hands. They were free and so were my legs. Maybe whoever had cracked me on the head had underestimated the thickness of my skull.

The two feet lifted, thumped down on me again.

“Keeps quiet, don’t he?” a voice said.

“I ’ope you didn’t bash ’im too ’ard, Joe,” another voice said.

“Not me,” Joe said. “I only patted ’is ’ead with my fist. ’E’ll be orl right once I tug ’is ears a bit.”

I grimaced. Having my ears tugged was not one of my favourite pastimes.

“We oughter be there by now,” the second voice went on. “ ’Ere, Bert, ’ow much farther is it?”

“Just ’ere,” the first voice said. “This’ll do, won’t it?”

“Yes, this is orl right,” Joe said.

The car slowed, bumped over uneven ground, stopped. “Nice quiet spot wid no one to interfere wid us,” Bert remarked.

Three of them, I thought. Well, three were better than four. I lay still, waited developments.

Boots trod on me; the car doors opened; feet scraped on gravel.

“Get ’im out, and be careful ’e ain’t foxing,” Bert said. “ ’Ere, Joe, you ’andle ’im. Ted and me’ll stand by just in case ’e stares any funny business.”

“I ’ope ’e does,” the man called Joe replied. “I don’t like bashing a bloke in cold blood.”

I began to like Joe a little.

The other two laughed. “That’s a good ’un,” Bert sneered. “I ain’t so particular, nor’s Ted. Are you, Ted?”

“I’m looking forward to bashing the bugger,” Ted said cheerfully. “I ain’t ’ad any exercise for the past two weeks.”

Hands grabbed my ankles. I was dragged bodily out of the car. My shoulders hit on the running-board, but I managed to keep my head clear as I thudded to the ground. I remained still, waited patiently for someone to take off the rug.

“You sure you didn’t ’it ’im too ’ard?” Ted asked. “ ’E’s a bit quiet.”

“But not for long, matey,” Joe said. “Let’s ’ave a look at ’im.”

The rug was dragged off. I felt the cool night air on my face.

Cautiously I looked between half-closed lids. I could see three massive figures standing over me, stars and a dark sky above me, trees and bushes nearby. It seemed to me I was on some sort of common.

“Strike a match, Ted,” Joe growled, bending over me, “and let’s ’ave a look at ’im.”

I tensed my muscles, waited.

The feeble flickering light from the match lit up Joe’s broad, broken features. He looked like an all-in wrestler. He had the kind of puss you dream about after a lobster supper. He knelt beside me, took hold of my chin between fingers that felt like iron. I didn’t dare wait any longer. Whipping back my knees and twisting sideways, I jack-knifed into him with my feet, catching him in the middle of his chest. It was like kicking a brick wall.

With a roar of rage and surprise, he shot over backwards.

I squirmed around, got up on my hands and knees.

One of the other massive shapes came at me. He leapt high into the air and descended feet first-the old, spectacular all-in wrestling pounce that looks so easy but isn’t. I had a split second to get out of the way. I managed it, swung a wild punch at the man’s head as he thudded into the soft soil a half a foot away from me. The guy’s skull was made of stone, and I felt a jar run up my arm as my fist connected.

I was on my feet now. The third man had arrived with a crouching rush. He caught me on the shoulder with a half-arm swing that sent me spinning backwards. I steadied up, ducked a haymaker that started from his ankles, socked him in the left eye with everything I had.

I didn’t wait to see the effect, but turned on my heel and scrammed across the thick grass.

The common was as flat as a plate, seemed to stretch for miles. Apart from bushes and an occasional tree there was no cover, nowhere to hide. It looked as if my only chance of escape was to run and keep running. I dug my elbows into my sides, tore across the grass, hoped I was in better condition than the other three.

Wild yells and oaths followed me, then silence. I ran on until I heard the car start up, then looked over my shoulder.

They weren’t going to run after me. They preferred the easy way.

They were coming after me by car.

Although the grass was thick, it was quite possible to drive a car over it. I knew in less than a couple of minutes they’d be all over me.

I slowed down, but kept moving. I didn’t want to be breathless when they did catch up with me, but I wasn’t anxious to come to grips with them any sooner than I could help. My future didn’t look too good. Maybe they wouldn’t kill me, but they’d do the next best thing. I thought of Bradley, waiting for these thugs to tell him what they had done to me, and I cursed him.

The car was only a few yards off now. Joe and Ted were hanging on, standing on the running-boards. As soon as they got within reach of me, they jumped off, and closed in on me.

I dodged Joe, ran in the opposite direction. Ted came rushing after me. I slowed, let him come up, then dropped on hands and knees. His knees cannoned into my side and he went head first into the grass. Before Joe got within reach I was off again, but this time Bert had manoeuvred the car so I was sandwiched between the car and Joe,

I wheeled around, waited for Joe who came at me, cursing and waving his arms. I ducked under them, straightened, caught him a clout on the end of his nose which sent him reeling back.

But I couldn’t keep this dodging up forever. They would catch me in the end, and by that time I’d be so winded I’d be at their mercy. A big tree a few yards away decided me. I swerved past Bert who came lumbering up, ran across to the tree, set my shoulders against it, waited for them.

I had time to look around the expanse of ground. There was not a house or building to be seen, nor could I see any car lights to indicate a main road. The spot was as bleak and as lonely as a Welsh mountain.

The three men sorted themselves out, came forward, stopped before me.

As I surveyed them I thought the dying gladiator was a happy man beside me. I lifted my fists to show them they weren’t going to have it all their own way, waited.

Bert and Ted stood to my right and left. Joe was in the centre.

“Now, chum,” Joe said, drawing near, “we’re gonna bash you, and then you’re getting outa this country, see? If you don’t, we’ll collect you again and bash you some more, see? Arid we’ll go on bashing you until you do go, see?”

“I get the idea,” I said, watching them closely. “But don’t blame me if you guys get hurt. I don’t usually fight with guys below my weight and strength. It’s against my principles.”

Joe roared with laughter. “That’s a ’ot ’un,” he said. “We know ’ow to take care of ourselves, matey. It’s you who’re going to get ’urt.”

I had an uneasy feeling that he wasn’t going to be far wrong. “Go on, paste ’im, Joe,” Ted urged. “When you’re through wid ’im I’ll ’ave a go.”

“There won’t be much left of ’im by the time I’m through,” Joe said, doubling his fists.

“I ain’t particular,” Ted said. “Just so long as you leave me something to work on.”

Joe slouched forward, his bullet head low, his thick lips drawn off his teeth. He looked as attractive as a gorilla, twice as dangerous.

I waited for him in the shadow of the tree, glad the moon was behind me.

He kept coming, his big feet shuffling over the grass, making a slight swishing sound. He wasn’t quite sure of me, didn’t know if I could hurt him or not. He wasn’t taking any chances.

“Don’t take all night,” Ted called impatiently. “I wanna go ’ome even if you don’t.”

“Don’t rush him,” I said, suddenly waving my arms, and made a move towards Joe, who cursed, stepped back, then darted forward, his left list shooting towards my heal. I slipped the punch, hit him in the ribs, swung a right to his jaw. He backed away with a grunt, came at me again. A haymaker whistled past my head, a left grazed my ear. I uncorked a right that caught him in the throat, lifted him off his feet and stretched him flat on his back.

I blew on my knuckles, stepped back against the tree, looked over at Ted.

“You’re next, son,” I said. “I treat ’em all the same, no favouritism, no waiting.”

Ted and Bert gaped at Joe, then, together, rushed at me.

I thought at least I’ve hurt one of the punks, hit Bert on the nose, collected a punch on the side of the head from Ted that made my teeth rattle. Bert flung himself on me, snarling, his great fists thudded into my body. He was quite a hitter. I felt as if Tower Bridge had fallen on me. I shoved him off, measured him, socked a couple of lefts into his flat, ugly puss. Ted came up, caught me with a right, and I countered with a left. Then suddenly a light exploded inside my head and I felt myself falling.

I came to a moment or so later. I was lying on the grass, someone was kicking my ribs very hard. I rolled away, tried to get up, but another lick sent me flat again.

I heard Joe bawling savagely, “Lemme get at him.”

I had time to see him rushing at me, leap high into the air. I managed to twist sideways, grab his foot. He tried to pull away, but I had a hold. I turned his foot, wrenched it, threw my weight on it. I had the satisfaction of hearing a bone go, and Joe’s howl of pain, then a hand seized my hair, and a fist like a lump of iron crashed on my chin. I felt myself rise in the air, and I landed on the thick grass with a thump that knocked the wind out of me.

I was now half crazy with rage, and struggled to get up, but found I hadn’t the strength to support myself. I fell forward on hands and knees. A great crushing weight dropped on me and I went flat. Although I knew what followed, I couldn’t do anything to stop them, couldn’t defend myself.

Two of them systematically beat me up. One dragged me to my feet, held me upright, while the other bashed my face and chest with his fists. They made a boxing sack out of me. When one got tired, the other took over. It seemed to go on for a long time. There was nothing I could do but take it. So I took it.

At last, they were through. They left me lying on my back blood running into my eyes, my body pulverized. I felt little pain. That would come later. At the moment, I could see the moon through swollen eyes, hear what was going on as if the sounds were coming to me out of a fog.

I was still half crazy with temper, and after a few minutes, I managed to hoist myself to my feet. I reeled around like a drunk, fell down again. My hand closed over a big round flint stone. That gave me a little incentive.

Crawling upon my hands and knees, holding the flint tightly, feeling its sharp edges digging into my fingers, I peered around until I located the three men a few yards from me.

Ted and Bert were giving first aid attention to Joe’s ankle. It was nice to hear his curses as they probed the swollen member with their thick, unfeeling fingers.

I levered myself to my feet, swayed backwards, recovered, set out across the grass towards them. It took me a little time, and it was like walking against a strong wind. Ted heard me when I was a few feet away, turned.

“For crying out aloud!” he exclaimed, “I’ll bust my mit on his ugly snug this time, s’welp me if I don’t.”

I found I couldn’t get any farther, so I waited patiently for him to come to me. He sauntered up, flexing his right arm. Bert and Joe turned their heads to watch. Bert was grinning; Joe was snarling at me.

Ted planted himself in front of me, set himself.

“Now, chum,” he said, “I’m about to demonstrate ’ow I put Little Ernie to sleep in the first round. If this smack you’re going to run into don’t take your ’ead off your neck, then may I be.”

I collected all my remaining strength, shot the flint into his face as his right hand began to move.

The flint caught him an inch or so below his right eye, ripped his cheek open to the bone.

He gave a startled howl, stepped back, tripped and fell. He began to bleed into the grass.

That was about all I could do. I’d broken Joe’s ankle and scarred Ted for life. It was a pity I couldn’t do more for Bert, but I just hadn’t the guts to stand any longer on my feet. I staggered forward, heard a violent oath from Bert, saw him rush at me.

I took his punch on the point of my jaw, went out like a snuffed candle.