Nathan Black pondered on his approach to Scott. The man was an enigma. Should he invite him for a meal thereby cementing the friendship? Or did prudence dictate that he wait for an invitation to Scott’s home? Perhaps the man was not the idiot that most people took him for. Bearing these misgivings in mind he decided to adapt a cautious approach. Having made sure to be at the bar first, Black had time to work out an acceptable plan of attack..
‘Well Maurice there you are.’ His polished accent and familiar manner gave the policeman an air of importance.
‘How are you Nick?’ replied Scott, a little too loudly. He wanted people to know that this English gentleman was his personal friend.
‘I have taken the liberty of ordering drinks, I hope you don’t mind Maurice.’
‘Not at all Nick, thanks,’ said Scott extending a hand.
‘I pride myself on being a good judge of character and pictured you as a creature of habit. I would have bet money that you would be here at the same time every evening,’ said Black, flashing a set of perfect teeth.
‘And you would be collecting for sure, it takes me a while to get down the Castlereagh Road but I usually get here at the same time every evening. How was business today?’ Black was caught a little off guard by the question.
‘What?’ he asked, somewhat taken aback.
‘The computers, manage to flog any today? prompted Scott.
‘Oh sorry Maurice, I was miles away. Not too bad, as a matter of fact things went quite well. How was your day?’ replied the Englishman, making a mental note to be on his guard in future, simple lapses could lead to his undoing.
‘Not bad Nick, we have an upgraded system, which was installed a wee while ago. I wasn’t too happy with it at first but now that I have mastered it, life has become much easier.’
‘Sounds interesting. What type of program are you using?’
‘Actually Nick, I really shouldn’t be talking about it outside work, security, you know how it is.’
‘Oh I see,’ replied Black, appearing somewhat put out. ‘I’m sorry Maurice I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘No, no it’s all right, silly really I never should have mentioned it in the first place. Look let me buy you a drink by way of apology. If you are really interested I can show you the program at my home. I can’t talk about it here, walls have ears,’ added Scott, sagely touching his left nostril.
‘Lets hear no more about it Maurice. It was thoughtless of me to broach the subject at all.
Besides I’m sure that you don’t want to waste your precious time discussing official business with the likes of me. Flitting backwards and forwards to the mainland can leave the old brain more than a little befuddled at times. Let’s say no more on the subject and be done with it.’
Maurice Scott was not by nature a suspicious character but he was a lonely one and the only real common ground that he shared with his new friend was the world of computers. Nick’s a man of the world, what does he want with me? He was near to panic when Black made an excuse to leave early. It was as plain on the nose on Maurice’s face that he was feigning tiredness. Had he hurt his feelings? Would his friend be here again tomorrow with a pint on the counter? Scott had been impressed by the simple gesture. It was precisely the thing that a friend would do for another. Bloody security, what had that shower at the station ever done for him? thought the sergeant sourly. Yet here he was risking his new found friendship in the name of professional ethics. Sod them, if Nick mentioned the subject again he would tell him everything. After all what difference would it make if an English gentleman knew about a load of bloody terrorists. Not one of his so-called colleagues would give him the time of day. Can’t picture one of those bastards having a pint settling on the bar waiting for me Maurice Scott to drink it.
‘Will you be in tomorrow night Nick?’ he blurted out anxiously.
‘Oh I don’t know Maurice. I shall have to see what head office has to say, I may be back in London this time tomorrow. Bloody job!’
‘Look if you are in, I’ll buy us dinner,’ uttered Scott, becoming desperate.
‘That’s kind of you. I’d like that but I couldn’t possibly accept.’ answered Black with conviction.
‘Why not Nick? It would be the least I could do. I am embarrassed, I feel as if I have hurt your feelings,’ stammered the policeman, desperately trying to retain his composure.
‘Because Maurice, I am a highly paid executive with a large international company and I would not dream of cadging a meal from a hard working, underpaid, public servant such as yourself. If anyone is buying, it will be me and I must insist.’
‘You make one feel like that Dickensien character, what’s his name? You know, Harry Seacombe took the part. Mr Bumble, that’s his name,’ he chuckled, humourlessly, pleased with himself at remembering the character’s name but still worried that he had hurt his friend’s feelings.
‘I’ll have no cheek from the likes of you,’ replied Black, mimicking the Seacombe role. ‘You’ll eat your dinner and like it,’ he chuckled, before standing. Apologising for his bout of-weariness Black took his leave. Humming Food Glorious Food he set off to collect his car.
Next evening Maurice Scott hurried to the bar only to be disappointed. The usual crew of regulars sat huddled at scattered, distant tables adhering to the Belfast trait, namely minding your own business. There was no sign of Nick. Scott was deflated. You’ve done it again you stupid bastard. The man wants no more to do with you, he admonished himself. ‘Give me a pint,’ he grumbled. ‘Service is getting bloody worse in here.’ Two hours dragged gloomily by as he sipped morosely at his pint, casting frequent glances at the entrance but there was no sign of Black. Finally he gave up and made for the door feeling utterly dejected. Giles on the other hand was elated. A few punters had sauntered in, took one look at Maurice and beat a hasty retreat. The young barman who had been sullenly polishing glasses behind the counter, heaved a sigh of relief as the imposing figure of Scott disappeared through the door. The following evening was virtually a carbon copy of the previous one, the only difference being a change of barman. Scott did not linger for two hours this time. He had purchased the latest edition of a magazine dealing with radical innovations in software technology and was anxious to get home to study it’s text. Nathan Black was ecstatic; he had taken up a vantage point, affording him an excellent view of the bar, with only a minimal risk of detection.
Scott’s distress was embarrassingly obvious. Avoidance of the big policeman was proving to be a masterstroke. He could not believe that a creature of habit such as Scott could be so easily distracted. ‘Two hours,’ he smiled. ‘Bloody unreal, I do believe that I have made a conquest. ‘Now,’ he pondered aloud, ‘If the prick will wait two hours for me to show up, just how deeply is Mr. Scott hooked ?’ He decided to let Scott dangle one more day just to make absolutely sure. Scott did not stay for two hours on the following evening but it was long enough and the way his shoulders were stooped, there was every indication to assume that the man was distraught at jeopardising their friendship. Assured and in an exuberant mood, Nathan booked a flight to London anticipating a well-earned weekend at home. Monday evening would be soon enough to see dear Maurice again. I wonder what information he has stored on his personal computer? Names, addresses, I can’t be so lucky as to have prospected a gold mine at the very outset of my endeavour. Surely this must be some sort of sign. ‘Come round to my house and I will explain the program, the man did actually say that. Could it be possible that Maurice has been naughty boy? Keeping his own records of known terrorists at home, for his own personal pleasure? ‘Please lord let it be so,’ he beseeched aloud.