Let Right Be Done

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Although the Jag was tucked in a side street it had a good view of the front entrance of the jewellers that Ricky Deeming had just entered. The two men sat inside exchanged relieved looks both knowing what Sanderson would have said, and more importantly done, if Deeming hadn't shown up.

"Well he's arrived on time. Doug, is there any need to tell the boss that we lost him?"

"Nah, who's to know anyway?"

"So it's agreed we'll say nowt. I mean, Sanderson's a bastard there's no telling what he'd do like."

"Mal don't take on man. Nobody needs to know. Let's hope he goes straight back to Durham, we have to pick up the new girls."

"What more tarts that can't wait to lose their knickers?" Mal asked in disgust.

"Hadaway man you like gan for a look at them."

"Aye I know but they're still tarts. What do they do it for?"

"Marra," Geoff shook his head. "Money of course, prostitutes they get good money."

"Yeah I guess. Hey look Deeming is leaving."

"Aye, you gan follow him or just sit having a crack? Get a move on and let's hope we don't lose him this time."

Ricky was aware of the Jag behind him and smiled, that was ok now he wanted them to follow him.

***********

The bags under Gently's eyes were larger than ever and fatigue seeped through every pore of his body. He sighed, nights like this reminded him that policing was a young man's game. He stared at the cup on his desk the familiar sweet smell reminding him that somebody jokingly thought that Camp was real coffee. He took a sip and grimaced, God it was awful. He lit a cigarette hoping to balance out the disgusting taste of the coffee.

Sergeant Bacchus came through the door of the office just as he had taken a long drag. He was nursing a cup of coffee as well.

"I see you're on the Camp as well Sergeant."

Bacchus looked at the cup.

"Well it keeps us awake Sir. Actually I quite like it. It reminds me of when I were a kid."

"You knew Deeming as a kid didn't you Sergeant?"

"Aye I did Sir; we went to the same Grammar School together."

"Both scholarship boys, I'd have thought you'd have had that in common yet you weren't friends."

"No Sir we lived in different areas. I lived in town in an upper middle class area, me Dad were the bank manager. Ricky well he was working class, he lived in a two up two down with the privy in the yard. His mother was on the social. As a kid you looked down on Deeming's kind."

A wry smile crossed Gently's face, at times his Sergeant still did that. But he acknowledged that during the course of this case there had been a change in Bacchus.

"And Sanderson?" he enquired.

"Ah well, now he was upper class, if his father hadn't been a labour MP he'd have gone to public school, but that didn't fit with the image."

"So you weren't mates with him either?"

"You're not losing that London accent or way of talking; it's marra up here Sir you have marras not mates and no he wasn't; like Deeming told you he was a bullying thug."

"Did he bully Deeming?"

"Nah, Ricky was always a big lad, and on the first day he was quick to show he couldn't be messed with. He stopped m..." Bacchus paused and cleared his throat. He'd nearly said me and he didn't want Gently to know that Ricky had helped him all those years ago. "He stopped a young boy being beaten up by Sanderson on that first day."