The Crime Trade

42

Stegs spent lunchtime in the One-Eyed Admiral. A couple of small-time bad boys he knew came in, and the three of them had a good chat about this and that over a few pints. Stegs bought them both double Jamesons when it came to his round and they asked him what he was celebrating.

‘Just won a little bit of money on the lottery,’ he told them.

‘Oh yeah?’ said the younger of the two, known to Stegs only as Piko. Piko had a three-inch scar running down his left cheek and very hairy nostrils, and he sometimes sold Stegs speed.

‘Not enough to mug me for,’ said Stegs, thinking that if they had half a clue how much money he had in the boot of his Toyota they’d have had a knife to his throat in no time.

Piko and his mate left about 2.30. Stegs stayed on for a while and talked to Patrick, the barman, reminding himself that he had to remain sober as his work wasn’t yet done. But he was in celebratory mood, and he allowed himself half a gram of whiz in the toilets to keep him from flagging too much. His plan was to have a few more beers that afternoon, then slowly make his way home, buying some chocolate for the missus on the way. He was going to tell her that he’d tendered his resignation, the experience with Vokes having finally proved too much for him. Not that he was going to go and work for that hound, Clive. Instead, he was going to set up his own business, providing security advice to well-heeled firms. He knew a couple of colleagues who’d done that, and it had proved an easy way of making decent money. You just needed a few quid to get you started, and you were away. And now that few quid was no longer going to be a problem.

In fact, everything was going swimmingly for Stegs as he left the Admiral at just after three o’clock. However, ten yards down the street in the direction of his car and booty, that all changed with a suddenness that fate only keeps for those it likes to fuck up big-time.

The mobile rang, the tinny strains of Mission Impossible coming up from out of his jeans. He fished it out of his pocket and saw that it was a call from home. He took a deep breath, steadied himself so that he was sounding as sober as possible, then took the call.

‘Hello, luv, you all right?’

There was a ferocious hacking sob down the other end of the line, and Stegs initially thought she was having an asthma attack, even though she’d never had asthma before, but then came the recriminations, and he knew she was fine. Physically anyway.

‘You bastard!’ she spluttered. ‘You’ve been lying to me all this time.’

‘Hold on, luv, what is this? What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t play the fucking innocent with me!’ The F-word. The biggest verbal weapon in the missus’s armoury. Like an atomic warhead, kept back only for situations of the utmost seriousness. This, then, had to be bad. And it was. ‘I’ve had a reporter on, asking to interview you. He said you’d been suspended since last week. So, what the hell have you been doing, eh? Getting up in the middle of the night and disappearing like some sort of. .’ She couldn’t think of the right insult, so instead sobbed loudly again. ‘Have you got a girlfriend or something? Is that who you’re seeing?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘And why were you suspended? That’s what I want to know. It’s the lies, Mark. The way you’ve lied to me, all this time. I don’t think I can ever trust you again. You never talk, you never share anything with me.’

‘That’s because I can’t get a fucking word in edgeways.’

‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that! Don’t you dare! It’s you who’s in the wrong. You who’ve been lying. I’ve had enough, Mark, I really have. Me and Luke don’t deserve a selfish bastard like you.’

‘Look-’

‘How do you expect us to live without any money coming in? It’s bad enough as it is, without you being suspended. Oh God! What the hell am I meant to do?’

‘I’m suspended on full pay, there’s still money coming in. It’s all right.’

Her voice suddenly became calm. ‘No, it’s not. It’s not all right. It’s over, Mark.’

‘What are you saying?’ he asked, thinking that that was a really stupid question, since it was pretty fucking obvious what she was saying.

‘I’m saying I want you out of our house, and out of our lives. Now. Tonight.’

The full impact of her words hit him then. And something else struck him too. The fact that, when it came down to it, he loved her. He honestly did.

‘Please, don’t kick me out. For Christ’s sake, don’t kick me out. I’ll change, I promise. But don’t do this to me. Not now. Not after my best friend’s been killed.’

‘It’s too late, Mark. I’m sorry.’

‘Where am I going to go?’

‘You’ll think of somewhere. You’re a big boy now.’

‘I’m leaving the Force. I’ve been thinking about it for ages. Honestly.’

‘You can stay at our house tonight but I want you to pack in the morning and go. You’ll still be allowed to see Luke as long as you give me notice. I don’t suppose you’ll be applying for custody of him, since you hardly give him the time of day, even in those rare moments when you are around.’

‘You can’t fucking do this to me! You can’t!’

Stegs realized he was shouting and that people on the street were looking at him strangely. He also realized, before he could say anything else, that the missus had hung up on him, the first time she’d done that in years.

He put the phone back in his pocket and started walking. He walked and walked, wondering how he hadn’t spotted that his missus disliked him that much. He’d win her back, though. When she realized he was going to change, and that he had some money behind him, then she’d come running back. In the end, what was the alternative? Single motherhood. No way. She’d change her mind.

By the time he got to a pub on the Woodhouse Road called the Dog and Badger, he was feeling a lot better. He went inside and ordered a pint of reassuringly expensive Stella.

You can knock Stegs Jenner down. Plenty of people had over the years. But he always got back up again. Always.