Free Bedlam by B.A. Morton

the mood today. I’m just sayin’ people in glass houses ...” He sighed heavily. This wasn’t getting him where he wanted to be. He steered the conversation back. “Anyway, on this occasion I’m not after a drink or a fight. I’m turning over a new leaf, doctor’s orders. I’m after information instead.”
    “Glass houses, eh?” Minkey wouldn’t be steered. “Be careful you don’t go and cut your own throat with that sharp wit of yours. Never mind barring you, I should be charging you for the damage.”
    “Was it that bad?”
    “Bad enough, and here’s me thinking a copper would have more self-restraint. You need to go back to school, Joey.”
    “Huh?”
    “And learn to count to ten.”   
    The taxi slowed amid more match day chaos. Fans heading home weaved their way between the traffic. The driver muttered under his breath, one eye on the clock as it ticked another pound. McNeil scowled. It would’ve been quicker and cheaper to have caught th e bus.
    “Hey, I’m doing that as we speak … eight … nine … ten. So, information?”
    “Information about what?”
    “There was a bloke in the bar on Friday, not a regular, covered in tattoos. Any idea where I could find him?”
    “The bruiser who laid you out cold?”
    McNeil winced. He vaguely recalled some altercation that had erupted following a spilled drink. Maybe that was where the girl with the ample cleavage had come into it. He had an image of glistening breasts … “Yeah, that’s the one.”
    “I’d leave that alone if I were you, Joey. You were lucky to get out in one piece. Curtis is not one to mess about, and if you want my opinion, copper or not, you pretty much got what you deserved.”
    McNeil wasn’t sure what they’d been fighting over. He still had some way to go before he recovered the whole episode.
    “Don’t worry about me, Minkey. I just need to know where to find him.”
    “His cousin runs a tattoo parlour down the back of Minchem Road, somewhere past the Indian takeaway. You may have met him. Archie Pollack.”
    McNeil smiled. “Yeah, I know Archie. I thought he was inside?”
    “He is. Curtis is looking after the business for him. Up from London, so I hear. As if we haven’t got enough crazies of our own. Like I said, Joey, you should leave well alone. He’s got a reputation.”
    “A reputation for what?”
    “Not for me to say, but word is he’s connected, and he’s got some unsavoury mates.”
    “Worse than him?”
    “Much worse.”
    “I should fit right in, then.”
    “Nah, Joey. I’m being serious. He’s out of your league. With or without a badge, he’s not going to take favourably to you knocking on his door. What do you want him for anyway?”
    McNeil could hear the sound of the espresso machine in the background.
    “Coffee?”
    “Yeah, get used to that sound, Joey. That’s all I’m prepared to serve you in the future. Stupid little shit, you’ll end up getting yourself killed if you’re not careful, and I’ll bet none of your high and mighty copper mates would give a damn.”
    McNeil smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s one in particular would just love to see me tagged and bagged.”
    “See, that’s what I mean. Law unto themselves, bloody coppers.”
    “You forget I’m one of them.”
    “Yeah, but you don’t behave like one. You’re okay, Joey. You just need to sort yourself out.”
    McNeil shrugged. If enough people said it out loud maybe it would happen. “I don’t suppose you know how I got home the other night?”
    Minkey laughed. “Last I saw, you were being hauled out from under by some old bird with a hell of a right hook. She nigh on took the back of Curtis’ head off with one of my chairs. ‘Course he was so tanked, he barely felt it. I thought they left together, but maybe she hoisted you over her shoulder and took you home herself.” He paused shrewdly. “Who’d you wake up next to, Joey?”
    McNeil ignored him. “ Minchem Road. I’ll drop by later and