A Lesser Evil - Lesley Pearse [172]
‘Well, that bastard Alfie would arse-lick Old Nick ’imself if ’e thought there was something to be gained by it,’ Johnny said, his genial face darkening. ‘But it’s fuckin’ ’ard trying to imagine Trueman getting cosy wiv a maggot like ’im.’
‘He has been there, several times, that’s definite. Fifi told the Plod she’d seen him there with Bolton, only she didn’t know the man’s name.’
‘Yeah?’ Johnny looked worried now. ‘When did she do that?’
‘The day before Bolton was chucked in the river.’
‘Shit,’ Johnny exclaimed.
‘So I want to know where Trueman hangs out,’ Dan said. ‘I can’t wait till the Plod get their finger out. Fifi might be dead by then.’
Johnny looked hard at Dan, as if weighing up whether he should help him or not.
‘Tell me, Johnny,’ Dan said simply. ‘I’m not asking you to get involved. If he captures me I won’t tell him where I got the info from, all I want is his address.’
Johnny poured tea into two mud-splattered cups, spooned some condensed milk and a couple of sugars into each and handed one to Dan.
‘’E’s probably the ’eaviest, deadliest bloke in London,’ he said, his voice subdued now, all humour gone. ‘’E’s got an army around ’im ’an all. Everyone is shit scared of ’im. You can’t take ’im on. It just ain’t possible.’
‘How old is he?’
Johnny shrugged. ‘About sixty I’d say.’E had the WestEnd sewn up when I was still a nipper. Keeps ’imself fit ’an all.’
Dan was not going to be put off. To him a man of sixty, whether fit or not, could be induced to talk. All he needed to know was where to look for him, and he’d work out the rest of his plan when he’d checked that out.
‘He can’t be surrounded by his men all the time,’ he said. ‘I’ve just got to pick a moment when he’s alone.’
Johnny nodded, then reluctantly said that the man had a big house near Brentwood in Essex. He listed the names of some of the clubs he owned and told Dan that he ran his empire from an office in St Anne’s Court in Soho.
‘That’s all I need.’ Dan drank down the last of his tea and got up, grinning wolfishly at Johnny. ‘I’ll get up there right now.’
‘Don’t, mate.’ Johnny grabbed his arm. ‘You can’t, ’e’s too big for you. Far too big fer me an ’all. I can’t let you do this. I don’t want you found in the river.’
‘He won’t be expecting one man to come after him,’ Dan said, brushing down the jacket of his suit with his hand. It was the one he’d bought to marry Fifi and he’d worn it ever since Clara and Harry arrived in London so he’d look outwardly respectable. ‘He might be tough-mob-handed, but I doubt he’ll be as quick on his feet as me when he’s on his own, and I’ll be fighting for my wife’s life, so it won’t be easy to put me down.’
‘You don’t know what you’re doing,’ Johnny said with a sigh, but there was admiration in his blue eyes. ‘Hang on a bit while I round up some of the lads to ’elp?’
‘No, I’m not going to involve anyone else,’ Dan said resolutely.
Johnny turned and opened an old filing cabinet, rummaged around under papers and drew out a cloth bag. ‘If you must go at least take this’un,’ he said, as he undid the tie. He removed some oiled rag and there was a small pistol. He put it in Dan’s hand. ‘It’s in good working order, I’ve looked after it. Do you know anything about guns?’
Dan nodded, looking down at it. ‘Yeah, I did my National Service. But I don’t want it. I’d rather tear him apart with my own hands.’
‘Don’t be a prat, it’ll be your life or ’is and this’ll give you a fighting chance,’ Johnny said as he reached back into the cabinet and brought out a box of cartridges.
Dan thought for a second and decided the man might be right, so he took them, loaded the gun and put it into his pocket, then gave the rest of the cartridges back to Johnny. ‘Thanks, mate. I won’t use it unless I have to. I owe you one.’
‘All you owe me is to come back here in one piece,’ Johnny said gruffly. ‘Good luck, mate.’
It was still raining when Dan came out of Leicester Square tube station, and checking on a tourist map he found out where St Anne’s Court was. Ten minutes later he’d been up and down it twice, and now he was perched