Jim's Revenge, page 9
Reaching the hill, they decided to take the middle path because it was more gentle than other routes and a person could walk and talk.
Turning to Gerry, Ian said, “I could do with your help.”
“With what?”
Ian swiftly described Moira’s predicament and the pranks the staff at Slobend, Fleecem & Skinnem had played on his Grandpa.
After covering less than a mile, Gerry began bristling like a warthog. “I hate bullies.”
“So what d’you think?” Ian said. “Will you help Moira and my Grandpa?”
“It’ll be a pleasure,” Gerry replied.
“Yeah,” Mick echoed, “It’ll be our pleasure.”
Ian saw a group of four heading their way. Without breaking his stride, Mick stooped and picked up a hefty fallen branch. After pulling off a few unwanted twigs, Mick brought the branch up to waist height.
Ian grinned, “Nice quarter-staff, Mick. Are you planning to audition for a part as Little John?”
Mick grinned and began performing tricks with his newly made weapon. Seeing Mick’s antics, the four boys heading their way had a hurried conversation and decided to change course, turning down a rock-strewn gully that led down to one of the lower paths.
Although a possible conflict had been avoided, Mick kept hold of the branch in case they met any more marauders looking for aggro; sometimes they did.
Ian grinned, “They got the message.”
“Yeah, they did,” Gerry agreed. “Good work, Mick.”
“Yeah, good work, Mick,” Ian echoed and then bought the conversation back to Tupal’s mobile.
Still walking, Mick said, “So what’s the plan?”
“I think Grandpa is planning to take Paul Tupal’s mobile when he’s not looking,” Ian said.
“Risky,” Gerry said, “Most people are glued to their mobiles like limpets.”
“Yeah,” Ian admitted. “I told him there would be problems if he got caught.”
“So how is your grandpa going to get hold of his phone?”
Ian shrugged, “I don’t know. Like I said, I just hope he doesn’t get caught. He’s going to try and steal it on Monday. If he does get it, he’s going to let me know and we’ll go around to his flat. Assuming he does take it without getting caught, will you be able to get rid of the pictures and remove everything from the cloud?”
“I don’t know,” Gerry admitted. “But I’ll have a go.”
13. Monday: While the Cat’s Away
Rheingold had become suspicious; surely, Jim couldn’t still be serving drinks to the education centre?
Giving the rear fire door a push, Rheingold moved silently through it. He saw Jim placing a large teapot onto a table and arranging cups.
His jaw dropped. Obviously, Jim still hadn’t worked out the truth. He retreated and began spreading the news, deciding he’d join in and have a bet on how long it would be before Jim finally realised the truth.
~*~
Tupal, Rheingold, Urnwood and several other members of staff left the office at twelve noon. Tupal made no secret of where they were going. As Flinnett was still away, the three musketeers and their close associates intended to take full advantage; they were going on another pub crawl.
As they left, Moira glanced at Jim and made a prediction. “Tupal will be as drunk as a skunk by the time he gets back.”
~*~
Moira’s prediction was right; the three musketeers and their camp followers returned at half-past two, all well-oiled.
Sensing the time was right, Jim made a decision and rang Ian, “Are you still available tonight?
“For the top-secret job?”
“That’s the one,” Jim confirmed.
“Yeah,” Ian replied. “My mates Gerry and Mick are coming along too.”
“Right, ho!” Jim replied. “If I get the phone, I’ll confirm it later.”
“Don’t do anything rash, Grandpa.”
“I’ll do my best,” Jim replied. Hanging up, he left the room to collect cups. Entering the Replan group office, Jim saw Tupal’s phone on his desk.
He muttered, “Time for action.”
Moving alongside Tupal’s desk, Jim saw his victim’s eyes were glazed. Collecting cups and biding his time, Jim waited until Tupal moved to speak to one of his colleagues before placing his tray over Tupal’s phone and moving on.
Back in the tea point, Jim turned the phone off, wrapped it in paper towels and sealed it inside a small plastic box and dropped it into a plastic carrier bag along with other items he was taking home.
Five minutes later, Jim told Moira and Sandra his shift was over and said goodbye. He’d barely walked into the external lobby when he heard raised voices and glanced back.
In the few seconds, it had taken Jim to leave the tea point and head for the outer door, Tupal had appeared in the general office and was glowering at Moira
Half turning, Jim squinted through the sliding hatch doors.
“Give it back you thieving bitch,” Tupal shouted.
“Give what back?” Sandra snapped.
Tupal pointed at Moira, “Not you; her! Give it back you thieving bitch.”
“Give what back?”
“You bloody well know what,” Tupal spat. “You’ve taken my mobile.”
When Moira gave him a blank look of disbelief, Tupal grabbed her handbag, emptied the contents onto the desktop and made a grab for her phone. Realising it wasn’t his, he began rifling through the rest of her belongings.
“Where is it?”
“I haven’t got it, and do you mind?”
“Of course you have,” Tupal growled, pulling open desk drawers.
As the row continued, Jim realised he had to intervene.
Re-entering the reception area, he said, “Have you lost your phone? I saw it in your room. Come on, I’ll show you where I saw it.”
Instead of reacting as anticipated, Tupal grabbed Jim by his collar and slammed him against a wall, “You’ve got it haven’t you, old man. Flit Rheingold said you were bad news and he was right. Because your loony friend accused us of being drug dealers, you’re trying to get information on us, aren’t you?”
The sudden assault and vitriolic language left Jim shocked. The smell of alcohol on Tupal’s breath was overwhelming; Jim realised if he admitted taking Tupal’s mobile, he’d probably be beaten to a pulp.
He yelped, “I haven’t got your bloody phone.”
“God’s sake, man, have you gone mad?” Sandra shouted,
Replan and Putman banged through the door, grabbing at Tupal to pull him off.
Replan glanced at Moira and shouted, “Take Jim home and go home too.”
Moira didn’t wait to be told twice. Taking hold of one of Jim’s arms, she pulled him out into the street.
“I’m sorry I got you dragged into this.”
Jim was tempted to tell her that he’d been the cause of Tupal’s bad temper but decided not to. Although he had Tupal’s mobile, there was no point getting her hopes up. They might not be able to wipe it.
Once he was back in his flat and Moira had left, Jim called Ian.
“It took a bit of doing but I’ve got the phone.”
~*~
At five-thirty, there was a knock at the door. By then, Jim had recovered from Tupal’s assault. Opening the door, he found Ian, Gerry and Mick outside. Once they’d trooped in, Jim took Tupal’s phone out of the plastic box and handed it to Ian.
“That’s it. Can you delete all the photographs off that?”
Ian passed it to Gerry.
“Can you delete the pictures?” asked Jim.
“I might not be able to do anything,” Gerry admitted, “I might need the password.”
When Jim frowned, indicating he didn’t understand, Gerry began searching the mobile’s protective wallet.
He pulled out a small slip of paper with Tupal’s home address on it and a series of codes and said, “I think this is it.”
“So, can you delete the pictures?”
Gerry gave him a dubious look, “We could get into trouble doing this.”
Jim pulled out his wallet, extracted a note and waved it under Gerry’s nose, “Will this help ease your conscience?”
Gerry waved his hand at the money. “I don’t like bullying. If I can manage it, I’ll do this for free.”
Thinking about what Tim Pearson, the police officer, had told him, Jim said, “I was talking to a guy in the pub and he reckons Tupal is associated with a local drug baron.”
Gerry’s head shot up. “What’s he called?” he demanded, “the drug baron?”
Jim frowned, “I can’t remember.”
“It wouldn’t be Morgan Flechley by any chance?” Gerry quizzed.
“Yes,” Jim said. “That’s him. That’s the guy.”
Gerry glanced at Ian, “This could be the link I’ve been looking for.”
“Link?”
“I’ve got issues with Morgan Flechley’s son, Brian,” Gerry replied.
Thinking about what Tim Pearson had told him, Jim said, “I don’t suppose you could copy everything before you erase it?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Gerry replied. “This phone could be a veritable gold mine.
Ian said, “If you copied all the telephone numbers, we might be able to play some pranks back on him.”
“We’re all agreed then,” Gerry said. “I’ll copy first and then delete.”
After setting up his laptop, Gerry instigated copy. Partway through, the boy caught a glimpse of naked female bodies and gasped.
Jim intervened, “Stop gawping at them, save and delete ‘em.”
Once the process was complete, Gerry said, “Is that all you want?”
Sensing the boy could deliver more, Jim said, “What d’you have in mind?”
“I haven’t deleted his phone numbers,” Gerry said. “But I could.”
Remembering the anger, he’d experienced upon discovering he’d been the subject of a practical joke, Jim decided one final twist of the knife was appropriate.
“Go on then, delete them. And delete anything else you can find.”
Once Gerry had finished, Ian said, “You are going to give the phone back, aren’t you Grandpa? A mobile like this one will have cost a lot of money.”
“Of course,” Jim assured him and began thinking of how he could return it without being caught. He picked up the piece of paper Gerry had found with an address on it. Posting the mobile back would ensure Tupal couldn’t find out it was him who’d taken his precious phone.
“Well, thank you all for doing this for me,” Jim said. He glanced at Gerry. “You’re quite a wiz on phones and computers, aren’t you?
Being modest, Gerry said, “I don’t know everything but if you want me to really get back at these people you work with, I will.”
“And how could you do that?”
Gerry said, “I’ve got the information from the phone to work on but the more information you can find, the better.”
“What sort of information?”
“Where they live, car registration numbers, telephone numbers, clubs they belong to, bank account details - that sort of thing,” Gerry replied.
Jim considered and nodded, “I’ll work on that.”
~*~
Tupal was in a bad mood, “She’s definitely taken my mobile.”
“So you keep saying,” Urnwood replied.
“She has. It’s obvious,” Tupal snapped. “Are you going to help me or not?
When Urnwood just grimaced, Tupal changed tack, “You don’t have to do anything bad.”
He waved a large denomination note in Urnwood’s direction.
“Just scare her,” Tupal said and glanced at his watch. “We’ll leave at closing time. I’ll drive up there and drop you off. I’ll wait until you come back and then I’ll take you home. Job done.”
When Urnwood hesitated, Tupal pulled out another note and placed it alongside the first one. “I’m feeling generous. Just think what you could buy your Ashley with this.”
“Why don’t you do it?” Urnwood said. “Why d’you need to involve me?”
“I’m the getaway driver,” Tupal replied and waved the notes again. “Think of Ashley.”
When Urnwood suddenly grabbed the notes, Tupal’s mood changed. “Good man. With your help, we’ll pay the bitch back.”
“What exactly has she done to offend you?” Urnwood asked.
He immediately regretted asking the question because Tupal’s expression changed back to a scowl.
In an attempt to change the subject, Urnwood said, “Ashley’s staying with some friends at the moment.”
Tupal’s mood swung again, “You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”
“Got what bad?”
Tupal grinned, “The love bug. It’s written all over your face.”
Urnwood changed the subject again “Why d’you keep looking around?”
“I said I’d meet someone,” Tupal replied, glancing around the interior of the White Hart, “Just combining business with pleasure.”
A moment later the door opened and a man with two large dogs walked in.
Tupal smiled. “That’s my customer. I won’t be long; I’ll have to go to the dog-friendly area.”
Three minutes later, he returned and smiled at Urnwood, “Business done. If you want to make sure you keep in with Ashley, you’ll need a second income stream. I wouldn’t manage without my part-time job.”
“My mother would kill me if I started selling drugs,” Urnwood said. “She’d also have a wobbler if I told her you were selling drugs.”
“Then you don’t tell her. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, will it? If you want to keep Ashley, you’ll need some cash in your pockets. No cash, no Ashley. If you don’t do it, someone else will. This world is dog-eat-dog.”
“I’ll think about it,” Urnwood replied.
While Urnwood was churning over what Tupal had said, the bell was sounded for closing time and Tupal led the way back to his car. Once Urnwood had slammed his door shut, Tupal reached over to the back seat and picked up a CO2 powered air rifle and handed it over.
“You just keep pulling the trigger until the magazine is spent. There’s an un-gated alley at the back of Moira’s bedsit.”
He handed over a photograph and pointed out a window. “That’s Moira’s room. You can’t mistake it. It’s the one with the big vase in it.”
Tupal drove off and stopped in a back street. Once Urnwood had climbed out and had made his way to the alley, Tupal opened his glove box, pulled out a cheap burner phone and keyed in a number.
~*~
Moira’s mobile rang at around 11.30, half an hour before midnight. Picking it up, she glanced at the screen: no caller ID.
Knowing it was going to be her heavy breather, she ignored the call.
The phone rang again at 11.32; another no caller ID. And once more at 11.34. Realising it was going to be one of those nights, she ignored it and decided to go to bed.
While she was taking off her make-up, she heard a distinct ping. Then another, and something embedded itself in the curtain.
Two pings later, she worked up the courage to flip one corner of the curtain and saw star-shaped holes in the glass and a shadowy figure in the alley aiming what looked like a gun at her window.
Her phone started to ring again. Grabbing it, she answered, and the heavy breathing started.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she muttered, throwing the phone onto the bed and pushing herself off it. Rushing downstairs, she hammered on Paula’s door.
A bleary-eyed Paula opened the door. “What’s on fire?”
“They’ve shot out my window.”
Paula stopped mid-yawn. “What? Oh shit, Moira, you’ll have to call the police now.”
Moira nodded, “I’ll report it tomorrow, but I doubt if it will do much good. Any chance of staying with you tonight?”
“Course.”
14. Tuesday: Jim goes to the Post Office and Flinnett Pays a Visit
The next day, Jim, wearing gloves to prevent fingerprints, went to the post office and bought a padded envelope. He posted the mobile back to Tupal and set off to Slobend, Fleecem & Skinnem.
He’d only been in the tea-point for five minutes when Moira nervously pushed her way inside and said, “I’m scared.”
“Of Tupal?”
When she nodded and told him about the shooting incident, Jim said, “This is entirely my fault...”
“No, it’s not,” Moira cut in. “How can it be your fault? This harassment has been going on for weeks, months before you ever came here.”
“It is my fault,” Jim repeated.
She cut him off again, “I wasn’t going to come in today. I was going to throw a sickie but then I remembered Tupal had to go to meet clients today. With any luck, he’ll be out all day.”
“So, you thought you’d risk coming in.”
“I need my job,” she said. “I’ve spoken to Mr Replan. He’s in charge while Mr Flinnett’s away. He’s told Tupal he was out of order accusing me of pinching his phone. He’s also suggested I go home early if Tupal does come back today so there isn’t another scene.”
Jim attempted to be upbeat, “Still the good news is if he has lost his phone that gets you off the hook, doesn’t it? No mobile, no photographs.”
Moira looked at Jim intently. “You took Tupal’s phone, didn’t you?”
When Jim didn’t instantly deny it, Moira said, “Look, if Tupal does come in today, whatever he’s promised Replan, he’s sure to kick off again. Please, just give him his phone back.”
Knowing it was in the post, Jim said, “I haven’t got his phone.”
“Tell me the truth, Jim,” Moira pleaded. “If it wasn’t you, if someone else stole his phone they could send my photographs all over the place.”
She became accusing again, “It was you who took his phone, wasn’t it? I told you about the photographs he took of me and then his mobile goes missing. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
