‘Dave.’
‘What do you want? I’m just getting ready to go out.’
‘Nice. Wish I could say the same.’
‘You all right? Your voice sounds funny.’
‘Got someone’s phone.’
‘Whose?’
‘Never mind. You’ve got to go up there.’
‘I can’t, we’re –’
‘Go up there. Put a note under his door.’
‘I’ll do it first thing, Lee.’
‘You’ll fucking do it now.’
‘Or else, oh yeah, there’ll be an “or else”.’
‘There will. Now listen. Write “Thursday 6th”.’
‘That all?’
‘No. Give him the address.’
‘What’s happened anyway?’ Dave asked.
‘You should know. And you remember the “or else”, because if you don’t do this and do it tonight, there will be be an “or else”, Davie. Man of my word, me.’
‘I’m your brother, Lee …’
But Lee had rung off. And Dave wasn’t stupid. He knew his brother too well not to believe him. Knew what he was capable of.
‘Got to nip out,’ he called to Donna. ‘Back in ten.’
He was in the car and off before she could stop him – not that she’d bother. She never asked questions because she wasn’t interested in the answers.
He didn’t really want to know what Lee was up to either. He just did as he was told when he was told and every now and then, took some money. It seemed to him that he couldn’t be blamed for anything he didn’t know about, and if asked questions, he could tell the truth.
He drove along past The Hill, took a couple of left turns, then skirted the new housing estate and up towards the quarry. Two miles. Three. Sharp left down a narrow track between trees, cursing the potholes. Through an open gateway. Along another track which was barely suitable for any vehicle at all. Stopped in a circle of rough ground at the end and from there he went on foot.
At first he thought the place was empty but then he saw a thin string of dirty yellow light under the door and as he reached it, heard a television, crackling and hissing for lack of good signal. But it did the job of hiding the slight sound as he folded the brown envelope lengthwise, pressed it as flat as he could, and slipped it into the door jamb. The noise from the television continued without a pause.
He crept for the first few yards, keeping his head down, then ran to the car and drove away. He didn’t know what Lee was up to, didn’t know what the message he’d delivered meant or who he had taken it to, only knew the place itself. Lee had never referred to anyone by name, never would, and that was fine, he didn’t want to get any more involved. He stuck by his brother because they had always been the closest and because, no matter what, blood was thicker than water, but that didn’t mean he was happy with the things Lee had done – quite the opposite.
The message in its folded envelope stayed in the door jamb all night, the noise of the television turned up to its loudest having blotted every other sound. It was only early the next morning, because he was always up by six, that he spotted it, read it. And laughed.