An Act Of Violence
“Why did you do it Marco?”
The skinhead made no answer. His tattooed right knuckles spelled out the word hate while the left hand was emblazoned with love.
“This is a new low for you Marco, dragging an elderly man out of his wheelchair and kicking 7 bells out of him. Why did you do it? Was it just a bit of fun” The Inspector said leaning across the desk.
“Inspector you’re intimidating my client. Your body posture is threatening”.
Inspector Mark Bishop fought back the urge to tell this young lawyer, barely out of university what he thought of her. With a baleful glare in her direction the Inspector leaned back in his chair.
“Anything to say Marco?” the Inspector asked.
“It wern’t me”.
“Really, there are CCTV pictures which look remarkably like you. Do you have a doppelganger?” Sargent Liz Thomas asked.
“Whats a doppel, whatever you said?”
“A look alike Marco. If it wasn’t you laying into Michael Jennings then whoever it was, they are a dead ringer for you” Liz said.
“This isn’t your style Marco. Selling E to clubbers and a bit of coke, you’ve got form for that but, seriously I’m having problems getting my head around why you attacked a defenceless disabled man” the Inspector said.
Marco picked at his fingernails.
“Did he owe you Marco? Was he slow in paying up? Is that what this is all about?” the Sargent asked.
“Inspector/Sargent, I must protest. You are intimidating my client”.
“Intimidating your client?” the Inspector said raising his eyes towards the ceiling, “How do you reach that quite frankly bizarre conclusion?”
“You and your Sargent are subjecting my client to 20 questions without providing him with the opportunity to reply”.
“I would be only to delighted if your client would confess the blatantly obvious, that he attacked a defenceless disabled man. We have the CCTV footage so, Marco why not admit that you assaulted Michael Jennings?” Inspector Bishop said.
—
The girl’s wine glass clattered against the plate.
“Are you OK Vickie? You look like death warmed up. Look you’ve spilled wine over my lovely new table cloth. Red is impossible to get out”, Mrs Smyth tutted.
Mr Smyth continued to read aloud from the local paper appearing not to notice that anything was amiss in his family circle,
“Michael Jennings remains in hospital, in a serious but stable condition. Anyone who witnessed the attack or has any information is asked to call 101 and ask to speak to Inspector Mark Bishop or Sargent Elizabeth Thomas. Alternatively people can call Crime Stoppers anonomously”.
Vickie rose from her chair.
“Where are you going darling?” Mrs Smyth asked.
“I don’t feel well mum. I’m going to lie down”.
Shit there where so many texts. She haden’t realised just how many messages she had exchanged with that creep Michael. Delete, delete, delete.
Vickie cast her mind back to all the crime dramas she had watched. Couldn’t the police recover data even if it had been deleted. She seemed to remember one detective saying that the only way to be 100 per cent sure that information had been destroyed involved smashing the device into tiny fragments with a sledge hammer. Did dad own such a thing? Delete, delete, god how many of the bloody things where there?!
n
Jamie retched into the kitchen sink. The pictures of that guy’s face made his stomach churn. Suffering Jesus what had Marco been thinking of.
“Frighten the guy but no physical Marco. All I want is for him to give us our money”.
“Yeah man, just scare him shitless but no vilence, I understand”. Jamie shuddered at the recollection of Marco’s yellow teeth and the stench of his breath. He vomited again at the remembrance of the smell.
“Look Marco, I know this isn’t your style. Give me the names of whoever put you up to this and it will go better for you in court. I’ll tell the judge you co-operated” the Inspector said.
“I advise you not to say anything Marco” The solicitor said.
“Look they ‘ave me on CCTV, aint no point in saying I wernt involved”.
“Inspector I’d like some time alone with my client please”.
Marco continued unperturbed,
“This bloke, Jamie I sell him a bit of E, no ‘ard stuff, just E. Anway he says this bloke owes him money, can I ‘ave a word with ‘im. Persuade ‘im to pay up like. Anways I’d been drinking, mixing it with coke so I was all hyper. I asked the bloke to be a good boy an pay the money ‘e owed but ‘e told me to fuck myself. I saw red, pulled ‘im out of ‘is chair and kicked the shit out of ‘im”.
“Do you know why Michael owed Jamie money?” the Sargent asked.
“Jamie fancies himself big time. Thinks ‘e’s a real ‘ard gangster. ‘e’s got a girl, Vickie who ‘e pimps out. 18 or 19 I think but looks much younger. Anyways Michael saw Vickie regular, usually payed cash but, cos Jamie and Vick trusted ‘im they allowed Michael to transfer cash into Jamie’s account sometimes, when he didn’t have enough at home. Anyways last time Vick did an overnighter”. The inspector interrupted,
“An overnighter?”
“Yeah, an overnight bookin, Vick spent the night with Michael. ‘e promised to transfer the money but it never ‘appened. Vick kept texting but no answer. Jamie went round to Michael’s house, trying to look scary but ‘e just laughed in Jamie’s face so Jamie asked me for help. ‘E gave me £60”.
“You disgust me, £60 to beat up a man in a wheelchair. Whether he owed money or not Michael didn’t deserve that” the Sargent said.
“If I ‘aden’t been so out of me ‘ead I wouldn’t laid into ‘im like that. I just meant to scare ‘im, ‘onest truth”.
“Whats Jamie’s surname? Do you have an address for him?” the Inspector asked.
“Yeah, sometimes I’d deliver stuff there. ‘is last name is Roberts”, (the solicitor put her head in her hands, it was, obviously a hopeless case).
“So whats the address?” the Sargent enquired.
“22 The Heights, Croxford Road”.
“And Vickie’s?”
“I donno thats gods ‘onest truth”.
“We can get that from Jamie” the Inspector said.
Jamie opened his fourth can of Fosters. He had reached that stage of intoxication where everything in the world looks rosey but through the happy haze the battered face of Michael swam periodically before his eyes.
Shit, why had that idiot Marco beaten the crap out of Michael. He had specifically told him “no violence. Frighten the living daylights out of him but don’t, whatever you do lay a finger on the guy. £500 was a lot of money but Jamie knew he could afford to lose it. OK he was pissed off big time with Michael, however he could have refused to send any more girls and put the word around the other local pimps to steer clear of him. Christ he should have done that rather than asking that fucking cretin Marco to sort things out.
Why wasn’t Vicki answering her damn phone. Jamie tried yet again,
“Hi, this is Vick, leave a message and I’ll get back to you”.
“Vick, call me back, its urgent”.
The doorbell rang. Jamie placed his can on the coffee table and headed for the front door.
“I’m Inspector Bishop and this is Sargent Liz Thomas. May we come in sir?”
Jamie stood aside allowing the 2 detectives to enter.
“Nice place you have hear sir” the Inspector said looking enviously at the grandfather clock in it’s oak case and the shelves full of first editions.
“Its my parents”.
“Of course it is sir. You’re a student I understand?” the Inspector said dropping into an armchair.
“Yeah, I’m studying chemistry”.
“I’m impressed. I was always hopeless at science”.
“You are either an artist or a scientist”.
“How about a pimp sir? What qualifications do you require for that calling?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about”.
“Do you know a young lady by the name of Victoria Smyth?”
Jamie thought fast. The police obviously knew that he was acquainted with Vickie so it was pointless to deny the connection.
“Yeah I know Vickie, she is in the same class as me studying chemistry”.
“Do you know a Mr Michael Jennings?”
Jamie paused pretending to consider,
“No the name doesn’t ring a bell. No wait”,
“Yes sir?”
“Isn’t he that poor guy, the one in the wheelchair who got attacked on Frith Street?”
“Yes sir, but you don’t know him. Is that right?”
“No, I have never met the bloke”.
“Can you explain then sir how money from Mr Jenning’s account has found it’s way into your savings account with Barclays because I am, quite frankly struggling to comprehend how that happened, given that you have never met Michael Jennings” the Sargent said.
The colour suddenly drained out of Jamie’s face.
“Jamie Roberts I am arresting you on suspicion of being involved in the assault on Michael Jennings and on suspicion of living off immoral earnings. You do not need to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention now something which you later rely on in court. Do you understand?” Jamie nodded numbly.
“Will he be OK? I never meant this to happen. Jamie said that Marco was just going to have a chat with Michael, persuade him to pay up. I swear I never knew it would end like this” Vickie gasped out through the sobs which convulsed her slendour frame.
“Michael will survive but you are in this right up to your neck Vickie. The best way to help yourself is to tell us everything you know” Sargent Beth Williams said.
“There is nothing to tell really. Like lots of students I took out a student loan but it wasn’t enough so I took out another and another. Soon I was drowning in debt. I felt suicidal. I’d known Jamie for a while and I asked his advice. He suggested that I become his whore. We had a good laugh about it. I didn’t take it seriously at that time but, a few days later, after a few drinks in the student bar Jamie brought up the subject again. Have you ever been desperate Sargent? truly desperate? Fearful that a loan shark is going to break every bone in your body if you don’t pay up?”
The Sargent shifted uncomfortably.
“No I thought not. Its really easy to sit in judgement on others with your mortgage and ability to pay the bills isn’t it Sargent?”
“we are here to discuss a crime not the Sargent’s personal life” Inspector Gill Cowper said.
“The first guy I saw it was horrendous. He stank of piss. I threw up but after a while you get used to selling yourself. Anyway I started seeing Michael. He seemed a nice enough guy but the last booking he just wouldn’t pay, either he didn’t have the money or he just wanted a free shag. I really don’t know why. Jamie said that he would get Marco to have a quiet word, no violence just put the fear of god up him but the bastard went over the top and kicked shit out of him.
“What the fuck?!” Inspector Mark Bishop exclaimed.
“Michael doesn’t want it to be known that he consorts with prostitutes and as this would come out in court he isn’t pressing charges. Without the testimony of Michael the Director of Public Prosecutions won’t prosecute” Sargent Liz Thomas explained patiently, for the third time.
“Sometimes I wonder what its all about Liz”. Suddenly her boss looked very old.
“I know sir” Liz said placing a gentle hand on his arm, “Fancy a drink?”
The 2 colleagues left the police station together, crossed the road and entered the pub opposite, to drown their sorrows.
