“It’s going to cost you, Eddie.” He said, knowing that wouldn’t go down at all well with his client.
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Eddie, as predictable as ever, said. “Why does everything you do end up costing me?”
“I’m a solicitor, Eddie.” Hudson said, expecting any reasonable person to understand that was explanation enough, “Or would you like me to sit on my hands until the clear-up fairies come along and do the job for free?”
“What…fairies? What are you on about?”
“Never mind, Eddie. You’re going to be looking at a minimum of ten thousand euros. But, if I were you, I’d budget for fifteen.”
“Fifteen? You think I have fifteen thousand in my back pocket?”
“No, Eddie, you have it, and more, in your safe in the office where you are now. Getting you out of the hole your brother just dropped you in is going to come at a price. Think of that price as a lesson for the future.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Eddie, keep your brother under control in the future. If you don’t he’ll cost you a lot more money and probably time in prison. I can fix this for you, but it will cost you more than you wanted to pay.” While he’d been talking on the phone, Hudson was checking the dashboard camera. It had recorded his journey here to this narrow side street, and he ran it back, looking for anyone or anything that was out of the ordinary. He knew most undercover police vehicles quite well and none showed up on the screen.
There had been one marked police car, but that had been travelling in the opposite direction. He’d watched it in his rear view mirror. The police car had driven down the street and turned left at the traffic lights. It had nothing to do with him.
“Just do as I say, Eddie, please. The police will have someone watching your place and probably photographing anyone who comes in or goes out. Lay low and keep quiet. They’re not a sophisticated bunch and we should be able to clear this whole thing up in a very short time.”
“Hang on, I’ll check…”
“You don’t have to…oh never mind.” Hudson shook his head.
“Yes.” Eddie’s voice came back, “There’s a car outside, don’t recognise it, looks like a couple of men in it.”
“Just leave them Eddie. They can’t do you any harm if you sit in your office and do what you do all day.”
“I need you to fix this. I’m not sitting in here for the rest of my life.”
“You won’t have to, Eddie, I’m on it right now.”
“You know where Sanford and Harris are now?” Eddie said. Hudson gave him points for remembering their names. A couple of days ago he barely knew they existed. Eddie had fifteen men working for him. Or had before those two went on the run. Five of the men he brought with him when he came to town. The other ten were locals. Eddie didn’t bother to learn who the locals were.
“The police have Sanford.” Hudson said.
“I know they have. Where is he?”
“I’m working on that Eddie, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find him. Like I say, they’re not very sophisticated and they’re not very bright. More than likely they will have moved him to somewhere they consider a safehouse. It’s just a matter of finding it.”
“How about Harris?”
“I’m on that as well Eddie. He’s not very bright. So he’s probably in town still and laid low with someone he thinks he can trust. Just leave it to me and don’t do anything….” Hudson resisted using the word ‘stupid.’ “…..just don’t do anything Eddie. Not until I have sorted this out. OK?”
“OK, I can lay low for a couple of days.”
“Until I have sorted it out, Eddie.” Hudson said, more firmly.
“Yeah, a couple of days. You can sort it out in a couple of days.”
“Goodbye, Eddie.” Hudson said and broke the connection. There were times when he understood why the police wanted to put Eddie inside for several years. It would give everyone some much needed peace. Hudson waited in his car a little longer, until a woman pushing a baby buggy had safely passed by and turned right into the supermarket car park at the end of the street.
Then he got out and quickly walked across the now empty road to the Salvation Army hostel that was next door to the Indian restaurant that, according to its publicity sign, served an exotic cuisine.
How exotic it was possible to be with a Salvation Army hostel on one side and a charity shop on the other was open to question.
Dean Hudson hurried inside.
“Mr Hudson, what a pleasure to see you again.” The women in the reception area smiled brightly at him, but Hudson assumed she smiled brightly at anyone who came through the doors. She seemed the type. Eternally cheerful and always ready to lend a hand. She had a lot of fancy braid on her uniform lapels, so she was probably some high rank. Hudson wasn’t religious at all and didn’t know anyone in the city, outside this woman, who was. He knew nothing of the ranks these people held and got a slight headache every time he had to feign pleasure at being in her company. But he was a solicitor and it’s a poor thing when a solicitor can’t lie convincingly.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you.” He said, waving a hand, “I really wanted to see if my old friend, Mr Williams was in.”
She shook her head and, for a brief moment, looked sad, which worried Hudson, “I’m sorry to say he is with us again. The poor man.”
“I know.” Hudson also shook his head, and looked at his feet just in case she might notice any smile on his face. “I do try to assist him when ever I can.”
“You do, Mr Hudson. He’s a good soul. They all are.”
Drunks, derelicts and drug addicts was what these people were, Hudson reflected. They weren’t good souls and at least eight of them were on the sexual offenders register. “They are.” He said with utterly fake, but believable enthusiasm. “Would it be possible for me to speak with Mr Williams for a moment.”
“You may take as many moments as you like, Mr Hudson. I know how much you have helped that poor man in the past.” She shook her head, “Yet he still comes back to us. Heaven alone knows why.”
He comes back because he’s unskilled labour, Hudson thought. There’s nothing in the modern world that a man like Lenny Williams can do that is of any legal use whatsoever. “I wish I knew the answer to that.” Hudson said, “Is he in the common room?” The common room was just off the dining area. The inmates, or whatever the popular term for derelicts such as Lenny Williams was, could sit on donated furniture and watch a donated television. The place was otherwise bland and soulless. It smelled strongly of bleach. Which was a good thing. Hudson didn’t want to know what it might smell of without the bleach.
Hudson knew his way around the place by now. Though, in truth, there wasn’t very much to know. The dining room, common room. The limited sleeping area at the rear and the offices upstairs. That was about it. If Hudson ever put any thought into it, which he had once, briefly, he’d have appreciated just how much the staff was doing here with very limited means.
There were four men in the common room. Three of them were at the far end, watching the television. There was some ancient movie playing in black and white. Alastair Sim was being creepy as a Scotsman attempting to rent a holiday cottage.
Lenny Williams sat on the sofa away from the others.
He looked up briefly as Hudson came in and sat down.
Williams wasn’t very old, he was thirty three, in fact, and had served in the army since he was seventeen. He’d come out a couple of years ago with the rank of warrant officer. He had his