Chapter Eight

 

Thomas and Cedric did their homework, and decided on a seaside town on the south coast of England. They researched how many bands were in the locality, and were delighted to see that the town had all the right ingredients. It had a pier, it had a bandstand, it had a lot of seafront hotels, there was a lot of visitor footfall as well as residents, the local council was very pro-active as far as tourism was concerned, and the icing on the cake was the fact that there was only one silver band in competition within a five mile radius. Perfect. The two men travelled in Thomas’s car, as Cedric was too fat to drive. It was the middle of January, so they hadn’t bothered booking in advance, and when they drove along the seafront, Cedric asked

‘what sort of hotel are we going to be staying at?’

‘Not the best, the budget won’t allow for that, but we can certainly push the boat out a little. We’re going to be here for two or three nights, and I’m pretty sure that these places will be desperate for a couple of cash customers.’

They stopped outside an imposing stand-alone building with a welcoming looking entrance.

‘I like the look of this one. There’s almost a dozen steps, so there’s no allowing the disabled. They always demand so much, and this visit is going to be a pleasure.’

‘Yes, but I struggle with my breath, walking up too many steps,’ said Cedric.

‘You shouldn’t be so fucking fat, then. Stay there while I check it out.’

Thomas walked up the steps into the reception area, and was instantly greeted with a smile by the attractive young lady standing there.

‘How many I assist,’ was her greeting.

‘I would like two small doubles, sea view, two, maybe three nights, best rate you can manage.’

‘Certainly sir.’ The smile failed to waiver against brusqueness. ‘Would you and the other person be requiring an evening meal?’

‘Don’t know. Reckon on yes, and we’ll see how we go.’

‘Very good sir, for two nights’ dinner bed and breakfast I could manage fifty pounds per room per night.’

‘Come on love, I’m not that green. This is the middle of winter, you’ve got no trade, and the central heating’s costing you a fortune. Try again.’

‘One hundred and eighty pounds, cash in advance, no refunds, and the restaurant is table d’hôte.’

‘That’s more like it. Let’s have a shifty at the rooms, and as long as they’re okay then we’re up and running.’

She escorted him to the first floor in the lift, showing him both the rooms. Bath and shower in each room as en suite, both beds were 4ft 6in, more than enough for his requirements, and if Cedric wanted a bigger bed, well, it was up to him to sort it out.

‘They’ll do, love. Let’s go downstairs and I’ll weigh in.’

They walked down the stairs, he paid the cash, she gave him the room keys.

‘Breakfast is between 8 and 10am, dinner is at 6.30pm. The bar is open only lunch time and evenings, closing at 11pm.’

‘No problem, thanks. Can you send somebody to the car outside to bring the bags in.’

He went out to the car, and then returned with Cedric and an elderly hotel employee who carried the bags. They spent the rest of the day acclimatising themselves with the town. They drove to the church hall where the band practised, being pleased with what they saw, and the whole impression was of a seaside resort that catered for the more mature guest, with a pier that didn’t necessarily cater for the younger crowd. There were amusement machines, but also a Victoria tea room. There were market stalls, but also an upmarket bar. Security was there, but not in your face. They liked what they saw, continuing to meet the profile they were looking for in a seaside resort that could cope with a silver band. Cedric returned to the hotel rather than walk around the town centre, but Thomas saw the obligatory shopping centre, with most shops occupied, and a thriving metropolis supporting a population close to 100,000. He walked to the train station, which had excellent connections, and then through to the bus and coach garage. This had transport to many destinations, all of which would go in his report to Busy Mick.

He went into the tourist information centre.

‘Afternoon,’ he said, ‘wonder if you’ve any information about the town’s silver band?’

‘Well, you’ve come to the right place,’ replied the receptionist. ‘My dad’s a member, has been for almost twenty years, and he says that it’s the pride of the town.’

‘That’s great, erm...?’

‘Sandra.’

‘Yes, right, Sandra. Glad that I’ve found you.’ He put out his right hand to shake hers, which she took. ‘I’m thinking of moving down here, and would love to join a silver band.  Is there just the one?’

‘Yes, that’s right, founded eighty years ago. Meet at the Methodist Church Hall, the band owns the hall, you know, earns good money from it, and last year we came twelfth in the county silver band championship. My dad played ever so well, we were all proud of him.’

‘That sounds great, something to be pleased about. So, is there a band leader?’

‘Yes, Mr. Johnson, he’s been with the band longer than dad. He’s such a lovely man, they love playing for him. Could be better, but it’s the playing that counts, don’t you think?’ said Sandra

‘Oh, every time,’ said Thomas. ‘I’d love to have a chat with Mr. Johnson, where could I meet up with him?’

‘He’s retired now, but used to be a an accountant. He goes in the Criterion Hotel bar on the seafront for lunch most days. He used to do their books, and they give him lunch.’

‘That’s great, Sandra. You’ve been most helpful. Hope to see you again. Bye.’

Rick Thomas returned to his hotel and told Cedric about his good fortune, as well as his impression of the town and its surrounding area. The next lunchtime found them in the bar of the Criterion Hotel. Cedric had his inevitable pint of lager, Thomas not indulging, sipping at a glass of sparkling mineral water. They had their backs to the bar, watching the seafront, with its wild waves crashing onto the beach. They could see through reflection in the plate glass windows what was occurring in the bar, which was empty apart from them, even though it was now 12.30pm. An older man came in, went to the bar, having a conversation with the young lad, and ordered his drink and food. He was in his late 60s, quite well dressed, with raincoat over his arm. He wore an old dark brown jacket, checked shirt, knitted tie, dark brown trousers, and brown leather shoes. He was about five feet six inches, slim, with what hair he did have cut short, no parting. He was clean shaven, and the overall impression was of an average man, retired, living alone. He wouldn’t be eating his lunch in a hotel bar if he had a wife, was the reasoning of Thomas. Cedric and Thomas didn’t have to look or nudge each other to realise that this was their quarry. After a while the food was at the bar, and Mr. Johnson went to collect. That was Thomas’s cue to go and order another round.

‘Morning,’ said Thomas.

‘Strictly speaking, it’s afternoon now, but happy to be a good morning to you,’ said Johnson with a smile.

‘Not much of a trade in here. Care to join us?’ asked Thomas.

‘Why not. I’ve already read the paper, and I was only going to talk to Artur, here, but I know already all his family history, where he comes from, and what he wants to do in the future. No offence, Artur, but this is new company.’

Artur the barman just smiled, as Johnson took his food and followed Thomas.

‘You must be a local, if you know Artur so well,’ said Thomas

‘Yes, been here for many years. Semi-retired, now, but I used to be quite an active accountant. I love living here, it’s a great place to be, and there’s no-where else in the UK that I would rather be.’

‘Wow, that’s some recommendation. We’re thinking of moving down here, me and my business partner, which is why we’re staying here out of season. Like to see a place at its worst before deciding. If we like it now, we’ll like it all the time.’

‘Good point. And if it’s not a private question, what line of business are you in?’ he asked, steadily munching on his sandwich.

‘We’re both antique dealers. My speciality is musical instruments, we both go to the markets, and we’re thinking of starting up some kind of antiques fair on a regular basis along the coast somewhere. Haven’t decided where yet, still looking, hence the visit to here.’

‘That’s interesting. What kind of musical instruments?’

‘The smaller the better, brass usually, the carrying kind.’

They continued their conversation, gradually eliciting information from each other, with Cedric contributing very little. After over half an hour, Johnson said

‘It’s time for me to go. Good to meet you, hope to see you again some time. Here’s my card, I might have some business for you.’

With that he was gone, leaving both men with a pleased look on their faces. They had Johnson’s home details, all they need to complete their task. That night at 8pm found them parked up outside Johnson’s house, in a poorly lit side road further along the seafront two streets off the main road. It was mid terrace of five houses, and the only light on was a downstairs one. They got out the car, walking to the front door. Thomas, taking the lead, rang the bell. The porch light came on, with a dim energy saving bulb. Good.

‘Oh, hello, it’s you two again. You’ve taken me by surprise. What can I do for you?’

‘Hello again, sorry to bother you so late, but something came up, and we wondered if we might have a chat with you.’ He gave Johnson little chance of resisting, walking past him into the small front room. There was no other occupant, which bore out Thomas’s original assessment, with no sign of any other person having been in this room. The little man followed them in, and was taken aback by Cedric propelling him into his armchair, then standing over him aggressively.

‘We thought it might be a good idea to discuss your terminal illness.’

‘But..but, I haven’t GOT a terminal illness.’

‘Ah, but that’s all you know,’ bullied Cedric. ‘We know you’ve got one, and that’s sufficient. You see, if you stay in town, then you will have a terminal illness. Like death. Let’s explain this to you. We are your worst nightmare, because you have something that we want. You are in charge of the silver band, and we want to take it over. No, you can’t know why, that’s for us to be aware of, not you, all you need to know is that you’ll be telling everyone that you have to go away because you can’t stand living by the seaside any more, the sound of the waves is driving you mad, or you can tell them that you’ve come into money, which of course you haven’t, or you can tell them that you have decided to retire completely. Whatever happens, we have decided that you are going to move away, with us inheriting the band. But we know that you won’t take us seriously at first, so we have to show you that we mean business. And it is business, there’s nothing personal. You could always tell everyone that you have an upset tummy, your reason for going, and require specialist treatment. That won’t be a lie, about the upset tummy, I mean.’

Cedric lifted the small man out of his chair with one movement, swiftly followed by another movement with his fist straight to Johnson’s stomach. He lay on the floor, gasping for breath.

‘Now Andy,’ he paused, ‘you don’t mind me calling you Andy, do you,’ continuing straight away ‘you see, I can predict the future. I knew you were going to get a poorly tummy, and, lo and behold, you’ve got one. Next, I know that you’re going to move away, leaving the band in our capable hands. I know that you can’t speak at present, but just nod your head Andy if you understand.’ Johnson nodded. ‘That’s good, you’re listening. So, we’re not unreasonable people, we’re going to leave you now, and come back some time in the not too distant future. Sorry, but can’t warn you beforehand, that wouldn’t do, but at least you’ll have our visit to look forward to, friends and all that, so we can say bye bye to you.’

The two men left Johnson’s small house, leaving him on the floor, slowly recovering.