Free The Damage (David Blake 2) by Howard Linskey

just climb into your car when you want, and go where you want.
    I don’t normally expect Joe Kinane to drive all the way down here to pick me up but he wanted to talk and this was as good a way of doing it as any.
    ‘Is Palmer back from the Turk?’ I asked.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Taking his time, isn’t he?’
    Kinane’s ludicrously broad shoulders shrugged, ‘It’s a tricky business, isn’t it?’
    ‘It was a tricky business,’ I agreed, ‘initially. Negotiating with a new wholesaler always is, but this meet was supposed to ratify what’s already been agreed. I don’t know why it should take this long,’ I observed.
    ‘I don’t either but he’s carrying a million Euros. He’s got to be careful, hasn’t he?’
    ‘I guess so.’ I conceded. I didn’t know what worried me more; that Palmer was late back from carrying a one million Euro deposit intended for our new drugs wholesaler or that Kinane had got a bit sniffy with me when I queried this. Kinane was showing a commendable loyalty to Palmer; considering they worked together a lot that was understandable, but his first loyalty was supposed to be to me. I didn’t want the two of them becoming too close – a firm within a firm. The fact that it had never entered Kinane’s head that Palmer could have done a runner with the money, or been killed by the Turk for it, concerned me too. You need imagination to stay alive at the top of our profession. That’s why they need a guy like me running things, so I’m trapped, because they won’t survive for five minutes on their own without me. Right now I just wanted to get back to Newcastle, so I could sort out the mess as quickly as possible, then take the first flight back home to Sarah. I was getting the nagging feeling that it wasn’t going to be that simple.

7
    .......................
     
    W e stopped halfway for a break. Kinane chose a truck stop because he ‘wasn’t going to pay over the odds for a fucking Panini and a muffin. Not when I can get a proper fry-up for half the price.’ We sat at a formica-topped table that was in need of a wipe-down. There was a plastic sauce bottle shaped like an over-sized tomato with congealed ketchup on its nozzle. Through the grubby lace curtains I could see rows of lorries parked up outside. We were the only ones who’d arrived by car.
    A good fry-up was one of the things I missed the most, along with a proper pint. Kinane lived off this stuff and I joined him. We both ended up with plates piled high with bacon, sausage, fried egg, fried tomato, fried bread and baked beans, washed down with mugs of piping hot tea. By the time I’d finished I could almost feel my arteries hardening. Kinane chuckled to himself as he mopped up the remnants of his egg yolk with his fried bread and stuffed it into his mouth.
    ‘What?’ I asked.
    ‘I almost forgot.’ He mumbled while he chewed, ‘Peter Dean wants a meeting with you.’
    ‘You’re not serious? Not after the last one. I hope you told him “No”.’
    ‘I would have done but…’
    ‘Christ, Joe. I rely on you to keep old timewasters like Dean away from me. Haven’t I got enough on my plate already?’
    ‘Hear me out,’ he said, ‘you want to be rid of him and his stupid schemes, don’t you?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Well now’s your chance. Peter has found a backer.’
    ‘A money man?’
    ‘Apparently.’
    ‘Are you telling me someone is about to invest in Peter Dean?’
    ‘So he says.’
    ‘And you believe him?’
    ‘He reckons he has the man and the money all lined up.’
    ‘Well good luck to him,’ I said, ‘but what the hell has that got to do with me and why does he need a meeting?’
    ‘Because the Gallowgate Leisure Group owns fifty per cent of Phoenix Films.’
    ‘You’re kidding me?’
    ‘Nope. I checked. It’s true. Bobby must have chucked him a bit of wedge for old time’s sake or out of charity or something.’
    ‘Doesn’t sound like Bobby. So Peter needs my permission to receive