The Sister(115)

Tanner nodded, but he was thinking about the belt buckle. It looked similar to the sketches drawn by Kennedy and Doherty. It had to be him.





A couple of hours later as Brooks drove him back, they discussed the fight they'd seen.

‘That was crazy, I’ve never seen a man of that age move like it,’ Tanner said. ‘Tell me Archie, where’d he get the nickname ‘The Boiler man’ from? Was he a ship’s stoker or something like that?’

‘You know; he could fight before he went away, but he came back as a highly trained man. That fight just now, you wouldn’t know, but this was over something that happened years ago. ‘The Boiler man’ came from his mother, her name was Boyle, see. Anyways, when his mother died he fell out with the father and he burnt him out, ran him off the site. Changed his name too, he did, to his mother’s maiden name. What was I saying? Oh yeah, after the fire, both the old man and young Boyle went missing. That’s how it started.’

‘Archie, hang on a minute, I can’t keep up. You said he was highly trained and called himself Boyle?’

‘Yeah, that’s right. Joined the Foreign Legion, he did.’ Before Tanner could ask any more questions, Brooks said, ‘Did you put any money on him? You should have. I waited till the last minute. After all that shaping up, the boy rattlin’ his sabres – I got me some good odds.’

‘I got a good story out of it. That’s enough for me. So how long was he in the Foreign Legion and what did he do after that?’

‘Mr Quinn, is this a story about the great gipsy champions or The Boiler man? You see, I don’t hear you asking me too many questions about any of those fighters now.’

‘I’ve just seen a fighter in his late sixties beat the favourite, a man half his age and I was impressed. I think a man like that warrant’s a few words about his background, maybe even warrants a whole book about him, wouldn’t you say?’

Brooks pulled into the car park and stopped. He turned to look at Tanner. ‘A man like that?’ he looked bemused. ‘That’s as maybe, Mr Quinn, but you’ll be getting no more from me. Good day to you.’

Tanner frowned as he stood by his car. Is Brooks just naturally guarded, or does he know something?

In order to maintain Quinn’s credibility, he’d have to get their story out there. He would pass the tape and his notes on to his friend. She’d do the story for him. After all, she owed him a favour.

Then he called Kennedy to bring him up to date. ‘At least we have something to go on now, sir. I’ll get straight onto it.’

Kennedy cleared his throat. ‘We’ll get someone else onto it, you have an assignment tonight. Wharton has confirmed the meet. I’ll fill you in with the details when you get to the office.’





Chapter 100



Evening, 1 April





The Sat Nav in Billy Wharton’s car took him into the heart of the industrial estate and announced: You have arrived at your destination.

The address he sought was actually around the other side of a high security fence. Streetlamps lit the maze of roads with a distinctive soft yellow glow. He drove on taking the next two right turns before completing the circuit with a final turn into the cul de sac he’d seen from the opposite side. The entrance gates were the only ones left open. The long run of linked units appeared deserted. Drawing up to the raised loading apron halfway down, he reversed into position and left the car running. He turned off his lights, not wanting to attract unwelcome attention.

After a few moments, he got out of the car to stretch his legs. Deciding he’d hear better without the engine running, he leant back in and turned the ignition off. Distant sounds reached him, workshop motors, shutters rolling up or down, occasional voices, too far off to make out what they were saying. He looked around. Bright yellow lights pooled down onto the area he’d parked in. Penned in by pale grey anti-climb railings, he was alone. He felt claustrophobic. There was only one way out he could see. Back the way he came in.

He took a cigarette from his pocket without removing the pack and lit it. Inhaling deeply, he blew the smoke out, watching as the cloud of yellow smog billowed into the night air, disappearing into the darkness beyond the light. Taking another drag, he blew a further cloud into the night.

The sound of a vehicle’s approach alerted him. As it neared, he saw it was a white transit van. The lights swung into view through the gates and it pulled up alongside him.

He flicked the cigarette out in a high arc, away from where he stood. He moved round to the driver’s door, which was already opening.

Bishop stepped out. Wary, he surveyed the deserted estate around them. He offered a hand. ‘Bill.’ Wharton took it.

‘Terry, I heard you were out. Where’s Tony?’

‘He’s gone on ahead. Are you on your own, Bill?’

‘Yeah, he doesn’t pay me enough to split it with anyone else; you know what I’m saying?’ He grinned. Bishop nodded his assent.

‘Bill, we gotta go round the corner mate – someone else is taking us the rest of the way.’

Wharton looked confused. ‘I thought it was just me and Tony going, meeting the others.’

‘Change of plan, Bill. Come on let’s get going.’

Bishop led the way. A few yards down, he turned.