Free Jack Carter's Law by Ted Lewis Page A

is lying there with his arms covering his head as though he’s waiting for a kicking. I walk down the passage towards him. Charlie screams but all I do is lift him up and lean him against the wall and straighten his glasses for him.
    “Come on, Charlie,” I say. “It’s time we were going home to bed.”
    I put my arm round Charlie’s shoulder and help him back down the passage. We negotiate our way through the cardroom and back into the billiard hall. Storey has come round to our side of the counter and is standing in the aisle made by the counter and the nearest billiard table, blocking our way to the proper exit.
    He stands there nodding his head and then he says, “There was no way I could have been wrong, was there? I mean, I was right, wasn’t I? The minute you came in I knew it.”
    “Well, you won your bet,” I say, and with my free hand I loosen a couple of fivers from the roll in my inside pocket and pass them to Con, who sticks them between the salt and pepper on the counter. Storey shrugs and shakes his head and begins to walk back to his flap and we start to move towards the door again.
    Then Grafton’s voice breaks the silence.
    “Are you having trouble, mate?” he asks Charlie.
    The three of us stop and turn and there he is, standing behind us with his billiard cue gripped in both hands. I can tell he’s made up for backing down by pouring even more lotion down him and if Storey offers Grafton his advice again, this time it won’t make any difference.
    “I said were you having some trouble?” Grafton asks. Charlie shakes his head but he can’t manage to get his mouth to operate properly.
    “No,” I say to Grafton, “he’s not having any trouble. Are you?”
    Grafton lurches a little closer. “You going to give me some?”
    “That depends on you,” I tell him.
    “Let him go,” Grafton says.
    I smile at him. “No,” I say.
    “I’m telling you,” Grafton says. “Let him go.”
    I don’t say anything and so with that Grafton tightens his grip on the cue and prepares to swing it where he thinks the side of my head is going to be. But he’s so clumsy with booze that I have time to push Charlie at the billiard table and step inside the cue’s arc and take hold of it just above the spot where Grafton has his grip. I pull hard and brace myself and Grafton’s nose connects with my advancing forehead and just to finish it off I grab hold of his shirt as he begins to slide down my body and I give him a little tap on his shin with the point of my shoe. Grafton hits the floor and begins to hunch himself into the classic footballer’s foetal position. I notice that Grafton’s mate who was expressing all the concern earlier isn’t exactly rushing over with a magic sponge.
    Storey has his head in his hands and is staring vacantly at the top of his counter. I take another fiver off my roll and add it to the others between the salt and pepper. Then Con and Charlie and myself have another go at getting to the exit.
    This time we make it and as we pass into the fresh night air Con shakes his head and says, “It’s a disgrace to the game, those over-the-top tackles.”
    “Shouldn’t ever be allowed,” I say. “Could break a fellow’s leg that way. Ruin his career, just like that.”

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    Hume
    O N THE WAY BACK west I try and get Gerald and Les again but they’re still unavailable. Con drives very carefully so as not to give any wandering law a reason for pulling us in to the curb. Charlie sits in the back without saying a word, but he’s not sitting quietly because he’s found a packet of crisps in one of his pockets and he’s tucking in as if he hasn’t a care in the world. I’m not looking forward to having Charlie in my pocket indefinitely but when it’s only this kind of long shot that’s going to pay off I’ve got no choice but to wear him. He crunches away in the back completely unaware that there may be more than one way of getting his sister out of the woodwork.
    “I