Scrap CH TWO part 46

CH TWO 46
Beanpole Brett is helping Harry Tobin pack the final pieces of the JCB which College delivered on Sunday after parting company with Scotty. His eye has not improved and the consultant has told him he will probably not regain any more than the 40 per cent sight he now has in it. No mention has been made of compensation, and he doesn’t seem to bear a grudge for the injury. Harry has taken him on as his first full time member of staff and is paying him a living wage plus extra bonuses for any unusual work which comes in, which is almost every week. He knows he can trust Brett to keep his mouth shut.
Brett also has his other little business buying and selling illicit goods, some of which he acquires from Olav Merck. The goods have been arriving on a regular basis from Afghanistan and Morocco via various European ports of call, concealed in many ingenious ways to keep the authorities guessing. It has proved to be such a lucrative side-line that Brett has no need for Tobin’s money; it is simply a convenient cover for his other involvements.
Tobin also has other interests, some of which involve Olav Merck. His access to sea-going fishing vessels and ownership of the small quay have proved to be ideal for the importer’s needs this past year or so, although the increasing scale of operations is causing more than a little interest from the boys in blue. His old mate Barry Roberts has tipped him the wink at the last Lodge meeting, which has cost Tobin a thousand pounds in cash and put him on high alert. Changes have been made and contingency plans put in place thanks to the newly appointed detective inspector.
Prince leaps to his feet and barks furiously as a small truck enters the yard. Danny Casey pips the hooter, not trusting the dog and Harry puts his head round the doorway to see who it is. ‘Don’t worry about Prince, he won’t harm you, come on in,’ he calls. ‘Is the dog tied up?’ Asks Danny, warily. Harry picks up the chain and rattles it to show that Prince is well secured and Danny carefully approaches. ‘I need a private word, if you have a moment,’ he says, glancing at Brett. ‘Okay, we’ll go indoors; Carol is out so we won’t be disturbed. You’re alright here aren’t you?’ He asks Brett. Brett says he will finish up and start on the other thing and Harry leads the way into the kitchen.
Captain screeches at their arrival, in a bad mood at being left on his own all morning. He shouts out a string of obscenities, making the men laugh and swear back at him, then calms down when Harry hands over a Brazil nut. He makes some coffee and they take it through to the living room, which is strewn with baby paraphernalia and stock for the women’s house parties business. Harry carefully moves enough of the goods so they can sit and Danny tells him what is required for the forthcoming delivery. Captain starts shouting from the kitchen and Harry throws him another nut before closing the door on him, ‘can’t be too careful with that one,’ he says quietly, ‘too clever for his own good.’
‘I’ll be bringing a new man with me this time,’ says Danny, ‘his name is Kenny Kelly. I need his muscle to help shift this load and I can trust the man completely. Are you sure you’re okay with this because if you have any doubts we can forget it and find another way.’ Harry assures him that he is willing to keep the arrangement as long as it remains confidential. The man has no scruples where money is concerned and too much to lose if word gets out. They understand each other perfectly.
Danny insists that Tobin take hold of the dog before he gets back into the truck, just in case, and he obliges. Prince knows a bad lad when he sees one and he growls quietly as Danny makes his escape. Harry feeds him a biscuit and ruffles the fur on his neck as the dog settles down on his bed by the door and returns to his sentry duty. ‘I don’t know why that bloke’s so scared of Prince,’ observes Brett, ‘his own mutts are far more vicious. Anyway I’ve finished that little job so what’s next?’ Harry looks at his watch and as it is almost five he suggests Brett call it a day. ‘See you in the morning then,’ says Brett as he gets into his red MGB. The rear wheels kick up dust as he drives out the yard and heads off home. At the road junction he almost collides with Jason’s truck. ‘Didn’t you see my indicator?’ Shouts Jay, then he realises who is driving the MGB and stops. ‘Are you okay Brett?’
Beanpole has taken a funny turn and wakes up in the hospital. ‘What am I doing here?’ He asks the nurse who is checking his pulse. ‘You blacked out in your car,’ she replies, ‘you were lucky you didn’t hit anything. I’ll get the doctor to come and have a chat with you.’
Several hours pass before a doctor arrives to have his chat and Brett has become increasingly nervous. The small rotund middle aged medic pushes his thick-rimmed glasses onto the bridge of his nose and picks up the chart from the foot of the bed. ‘I see you had an episode,’ he begins, turning the single page and finding nothing beneath, ‘tell me, do you have any history of epilepsy?’ Brett looks up at him in horror; ‘no, never,’ he retorts as if the man has just insulted him, ‘I’ve always been perfectly healthy.’ The doctor runs a hand over his bearded chin and makes some umming noises. ‘Yet you seem to have lost consciousness for a moment whilst driving your car, which could have proved very serious indeed.’
Brett’s brain is working hard on a suitable response; if the doctor is suggesting what he thinks he is suggesting it could put his driving licence in jeopardy and hence his livelihood. ‘I never said I actually blacked out,’ he begins, a note of panic in his voice. ‘But that’s what is written here,’ counters the medic, ‘it says you came to a junction in the road and almost hit another vehicle; that you told the other driver you had blacked out.’ Brett is starting to sweat as he conjures up a reply. ‘No, he must have mis-heard me,’ he says, rather too urgently, ‘I never actually lost consciousness. I’ve been working long hours, maybe I was sort of nodding off but I’m quite safe to drive.’
The doctor is not so sure but whatever doubts he has there is not strong enough proof to say the man is unfit to drive. ‘I understand you were treated here recently for injuries received when a brick hit you in the face,’ the doctor continues. Brett admits that is the case but insists he is now fully recovered from the injuries. ‘But you have been left with only partial sight in the left eye, is that not the case?’ Brett is feeling decidedly uncomfortable now as he relates what the eye specialist told him. ‘He said I am okay to drive even if I had lost all the sight in one eye,’ he pleads, ‘I told you what happened; I was just feeling a bit tired.’
The doctor scribbles something on the sheet of paper and hands the clipboard to a nurse. ‘In that case you are free to go,’ he tells his patient, ‘if you can assure me you are not feeling any ill effects I will have to give you the benefit of the doubt, but if you do experience any unusual symptoms or indeed if you have any fainting spells I urge you to visit your family doctor at once.’ Brett assures him he will take his advice and as soon as he moves on to the next patient he gets dressed and makes a quick exit.