“The last payment didn’t last very long.” Hudson said.
Williams shrugged, “It never does.” He said. He might have looked a mess but he wasn’t drunk and he wasn’t on drugs. He actually was physically very fit. He was slim and strong. “We live in a very expensive world, Mr Hudson. At least it’s expensive when all the work you can get is packing beans on supermarket shelves.”
Hudson said, “Beans are very nutritious. So they tell me.”
“What do you want, Mr Hudson?”
“A chat.” Hudson said, lowering his voice, “A private chat.”
Williams glanced over at the trio, enthralled by the old movie and pointing out who the mouthy child actor was who kept saying there was “lousy organisation.”
“They’re not interested, we could be having an orgy here and they wouldn’t notice.”
“I’d still like to go somewhere private.” Hudson thought that might be true, but he was a very careful man. “Come on.”
“All right.” Williams sighed, “There’s nothing I like better than standing outside in the rain when I don’t have to.” He stood up quickly and smoothly.
“It’s not raining.” Hudson said. He took longer to stand up, though he was hardly more than a couple of years older than Williams.
“It will.” Williams said, fatalistically, “It never does anything else in this damn city.”
Williams, although the reluctant one, led the way through the rear door and into the back yard.
It wasn’t raining, but looked as if it soon would be. The yard was just that. A small concrete area. The recycle bins were here and a metal bucket on a highly weathered concrete plinth. The bucket was dull of sand and littered with cigarette butts. Some of the more desperate inmates insisted on rescuing those and turning them into new cigarettes.
Hudson knew Williams didn’t smoke so when he took out a cigar he didn’t bother to offer one to the man. He lit up. “Eddie Symes.” He said.
Williams nodded, “I heard of him. He took over from Charlie Warren. Someone knocked Warren off in his office, that’s what I heard. Some say it was his right hand man, Shipley. But I don’t buy that. Ship isn’t the sort to turn on his own boss. Not without a good reason.”
“Right, you know who Eddie Symes is then.”
“I know. Comes from down south. He turned up with his brother. His brother’s a idiot, but a vicious bugger. Shotgun Tony they call him. He likes to use a sawn off. Messy, crude, about his limit. Symes had five men with his. Don’t know what he did down south but I can guess. Probably the same thing he’s doing now he’s up north. Trying to establish himself as a big man. Right now he had the smallest slice of the pie but he’s the sort who wants more.”
“You know quite a bit about Eddie by the sound of it?”
“Word gets around.” Williams said, vaguely, “I also see Eddie’s brother was causing trouble for Victor Monk.”
“There’s no problem with Victor Monk.” Hudson said quickly. “There is simply a situation that needs to be sorted out.”
“I bet there is. Who do you want me to sort out?”
“Harry Sanford.” Hudson said, “Charlie Harris.”
Williams shook his head, “Names don’t mean anything to me.”
Hudson took two postcard side pictures from his inner pocket and handed them over. “The names are on the back.” He said.
Williams turned the pictures over. Then studied the faces. The pictures were not great ones. They were old snaps that Eddie’s people had turned up from somewhere or other. “Where are they?”
“That I don’t know yet.” Hudson said. “But we’ll pay five thousand euros apiece for them.”
“I want half in advance.” Williams said.
“I bet you do.”
“And I want expenses.”
“Lenny, I don’t think you quite understand your position here.”
“Don’t I?” Williams said, “You want someone who’ll do these two men for you. Well I’m trained for that. You can’t let Eddie or his idiot brother do the job. You can’t even let any of his men do the job. Even if they would. People don’t like killing their own colleagues. It gives them the idea they aren’t indispensable. This town isn’t exactly brimming over with assassins, whatever you might read in the newspapers. I’ll do the job, Mr Hudson, but I want half the amount in cash upfront and I want expenses.”
“Anything else you needs?” Hudson said. He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
If Williams heard it, and there was no doubt he did, he didn’t choose to pay any attention to it.
“With expenses there’s a lot of stuff I can get myself. A hotel room, a shower, new clothes, a shave, a car.”
“Expenses, Lenny. We’re not crowdfunding your new executive lifestyle.”
“You’re going to fund something. I’m not waiting around in this place any longer than I have to. Also, I need to be ready to go soon as you find these people. Which means I need a car and I need decent clothes so I can blend in.”
“You have decent clothes. Those clothes are decent.” Hudson pointed out.
“Would you wear them?”
“That isn’t the point, Lenny.”
“I’ll need a phone as well.”
“Maybe you’d like a laptop computer as well while we’re at it?”
“No, but it might be worth getting me a tablet.” Williams said, taking Hudson seriously. “That’s the trouble with you civilians. You have no idea about the logistics of any military operation. Why do you think the British Army is in the mess it’s in today? Lack of investment.”
“OK, Lenny, Ok. I’ll see what I can do about expenses.”
“Fine, but I do nothing until the first payment. Sanford and Harris could have gay sex right in front of me and I wouldn’t do anything until I get paid.” He paused, “Which reminds me. I need something else.”
“Something cheap, I hope.”
Williams grinned at him, “Yeah, you might say that. I want a woman.”
Chapter Five
Charlie Harris rented an apartment just off Sasdy Road. The street was short and narrow. If Hazel hadn’t known what it was called from Harris’ police record she wouldn’t have been able to give it a name. Nor had the city council by the look of it.
There probably had been a street sign up on a wall at one time in the past. But when or why it vanished Hazel didn’t know. Nor did she have any idea why the city council never bothered to put a new one up.
Jerry Price had been annoyingly enthusiastic all morning. He’d chatted away as they went back to the main police H. Q. He’d really liked that. He hadn’t ever been there before and made sure he had a coffee from the vending machine, just like a real detective.
Hazel decided against telling him none of the detectives used the machine because the coffee was overpriced and tasted terrible. Price didn’t seem to mind.
He seemed overly impressed with the choice of cars on offer behind the H. Q. and was only mildly put out when