The Thing Itself

FIFTY-FOUR

‘Laker’s not going to help you with those girls,’ Gilchrist said to Grimes.

Watts gave her a questioning look.

‘What do you mean?’ Grimes said.

‘We know the whole story. How you wanted those kids sent out to some brothel abroad. God, you’re sick.’

‘I’m sick? What about what those girls did to Sarah Jessica? Did you see what they did?’

‘I’m the only one who did see,’ Gilchrist said. ‘I was there, remember. What they did was dreadful but what you planned in revenge was a thousand times worse.’

‘Do unto others as they do unto you,’ Grimes said. ‘Only twice as much.’

Gilchrist shook her head.

‘Anyway, Bernie, your mate Charlie Laker has landed you right in it.’

Grimes stood up and this time Watts let him.

‘Why would he do that?’ Grimes said, seeming genuinely perplexed.

‘Well, let’s just say the scales weren’t weighed very heavily in your favour,’ Gilchrist said.

‘If you’ve got him, what are you asking all these questions for?’

‘Peace of mind,’ Watts said, smiling at Gilchrist.

‘Look, everybody could gain from this,’ Gilchrist said, holding Watts’s look. ‘We could get answers we need. You can cut a deal so that you won’t be held to account for some of your scumbag past. And whilst you’re beyond redemption for what you wanted to do to those girls, well, nothing actually did happen to them.’

She looked back at Grimes.

‘So, what’s it going to be?’

Grimes tugged on his chin.

‘You got booze on this boat?’

Gilchrist nodded.

‘There’s a minibar.’

‘Well, I’m sure the sun is over the yardarm somewhere in the world,’ Grimes said. ‘But it’s too hot down here to drink. Maybe we can go up on deck?’

Gilchrist and Watts just looked at him.

‘Tell us about you and William Simpson,’ Watts said. He saw Grimes attempt to deny he knew the name. ‘Don’t.’

Grimes shrugged.

‘I’ve known Simpson since I was a kid. He was on the scene.’

‘A crook?’

‘A bum bandit.’

‘You knew his father?’

‘Do I look that old? I knew of him. Philip Simpson. The corrupt chief constable.’

‘Pray tell,’ Gilchrist said.

‘Get me a drink and I will.’

Williamson revved the car. He thought he’d do it at an angle rather than dead on. Kind of like Steve McQueen trying to jump the barbed wire in The Great Escape. Dicky Attenborough was good in the film too, though not as good as when he played Pinky in Brighton Rock. That was a film.

He’d pick up some speed going one way, turn on the broad swathe of grass in front of the converted lighthouse, where that snooty woman was probably still sprawled on the sofa with her knickers off, then power downhill and over the edge.

‘Look,’ said Grimes. ‘All I did was let slip to a grass that I was going to be staying in this house the night before I went over to France. Charlie gave me the address. He didn’t say why. He said he’d do the rest. He just wanted the favour and I was happy to oblige.’

‘How do you know Laker?’

‘We’ve done a bit of business from time to time. More than I realized. I helped him when he took over the Palace Pier.’

‘Helped him how?’

‘I had a word with a few people. Eased negotiations.’

‘What a world you live in,’ Gilchrist said, shaking her head.

‘What — you think legitimate business doesn’t do the same stuff? Just because the chief executive doesn’t personally break legs and kill people? Grow the fuck up.’ Grimes spat on the floor of the cabin. ‘Jesus.’ He looked up at Gilchrist. ‘What world do you live in?’

‘Was that it?’ Watts said. ‘The extent of your involvement?’

‘That was it.’

‘But you’ll testify against Laker?’

‘In court? I don’t think so.’

‘A statement then,’ Watts said.

Grimes swigged his drink.

‘I’ll think about it.’

Gilchrist drew Watts away.

‘Let’s leave him for ten minutes. He isn’t going anywhere. And I’m worried about Reg. I want to make a couple of calls.’

‘Who’s that?’ Gilchrist said, the moment her call was answered. ‘Sergeant Mason — DS Gilchrist here. Yes, I know I’m on suspension. I just wondered if you could tell me if everything is OK with Reg Williamson? Has anything happened in the past couple of days?’ She growled. ‘If he’d told me, I wouldn’t be asking.’ Gilchrist listened, then with a whispered ‘Thank you’ ended the call. She turned to Watts.

‘Reg Williamson’s wife drove their car off Beachy Head.’

Watts clenched his jaw.

‘Jesus. Poor guy.’

‘I think he’s about to follow her example. Taking Charlie Laker with him.’