Coin

By Alan Addison

A desperate need for the authorities to put an end to the devastating business practises of a London housing developer, newly arrived in Leith, and the desperate wish to prevent him from destroying some of the last natural resources in the area, leads JP Associates into a cesspit of troubles. Coin is a case that was simple enough to engage in but not one to get out of unscathed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9781445700007

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

29th March 2023

‘Aw here he goes again, two minutes out the clink and he’s banging oan about the rich and poor. Bob wid you tell him tae gie it a rest please?’

‘Tracey, you know better than that; trying to stop Tod Peterson when he’s in full flow might just wind him up. You’re better just letting him get it off his chest. He’ll calm down soon enough.’

‘Calm down? Would you listen to yourselves; I’m just out of that place in Lanarkshire they call an open prison and what that taught me was that what drives this so called postmodern society of ours is greed, nothing more, nothing less, just the desire to have more and more money and goods. Even gender choice and the so called freedoms it brings means more cosmetic and fashion sales. You see all movements are about money in the end. It’s always about money. The only prisoners given the privilege of semi-freedom had actually been sentenced to the life of Riley. Corrupt bankers, politicians, and scammers and it was all the open prison authorities could do to not bow when attending to their every need. Back in Edinburgh Prison things were very different. That’s where one really sees the results of extreme poverty and how the poor are treated by authority.’

‘Aye awright,’ said Tracey, ‘ we visited you enough in both institutions and had to listen to this stuff on numerous occasions, can we just get on wie the job now, A’ve about had your lecture up tae here.’ She put her hand to her Adam’s apple. ‘A bet Valerie isnae subjected tae this constant bombardment.’

Bob was seated at the coffee table and looked directly at his old friend. ‘Wasn’t it your obsession with greed that got you banged up in the first place? Oh no of course, pardon my ignorance, you were working with Daniel Manning for the security services when Stark was killed and you were hung out to dry. How amiss of me to forget.’

Tod ignored Bob’s comments and said no more until he was seated beside him at the coffee table. He looked around the room. ‘This place has not changed much in my absence, same magnolia walls and ceiling, same old desk and chairs, same old coffee table.’ He ran his hand along its worn surface. ‘A man could get a spale in his hand from this surface.’

‘A’m surprised ye ken what a spale is wie your Cambridge background?’ replied Tracey.

‘I did a woodworking course whilst in jail. Anyway, enough of me, what’s this job we need to be getting on with?’

‘We’ve been talking about advertising the business and were wondering how best to go about it,’ answered Bob.

Tod laughed for the first time in a while. ‘So there’s no job?’

Tracey sat down next to him. ‘No, not at the moment anywie but there are things in the pipeline.’

‘Such as?’

‘This and that,’ interjected Bob.

Tod lifted the Greener Leith magazine from the table and pretended to study it. ‘Oh I see. Well if you print out the this for me, I’ll run over it with a fine toothcomb then take a look at the that.’

Tracey nudged him in the ribs. ‘Dinnae you be smart Tod Peterson.’

Tod Peterson, partner in JP Associates, the only detective agency in Leith, smiled broadly. He had been incarcerated firstly in Edinburgh Prison and then in an open prison in Lanarkshire for almost eight years and was glad to now be sitting where he was.

‘Right,’ said Bob, ex Detective Inspector with Police Scotland and Tod’s business partner, ‘when you two have finished snuggling up to each other, we’ll cut to the chase. We’ve no work at present but we’re hopeful.’ Just as he finished speaking the office door was thrown open and an elderly women stumbled in. She had obviously been crying.

Tracey immediately went to her aid and gently took hold of her arm. ‘What’s wrong Hen?’

Bob was thinking that perhaps she’d just discovered that the number 22 buses had stopped coming to Leith. Tod immediately thought she’d been mugged. He was right.

The woman calmed slightly. ‘A’m sorry tae bother ye but some wee bastard stole ma handbag as A wis coming out the bank in the Kirkgate. Ma rent money and Council Tax is in there and A’ve ma man’s tea tae get at the pork butcher but A’ll no be getting that now.’

Tracey guided her to a chair at the coffee table while her bosses looked on. ‘Take a wee seat and A’ll get the kettle on, I’ll no be long. What dae ye take in yer tea?’

Before the distraught woman could answer Bob spoke. ‘There’s no biscuits.’

Tracey stopped in her tracks and threw him daggers. ‘That tin wis half full last night!’

‘Aye, but I came in early this morning.’

‘Meaning you’ve eaten every one of those biscuits. Has Beccy stopped feeding ye?’

Bob’s face reddened but he did not reply.

‘It’s awright Hen,’ said the woman, sensing the danger. ‘A had ma breakfast before A came out.’

Tod stood. ‘I’ll nip round to Greggs. Do they still do those mini-doughnuts?’

‘Ye better watch Son,’ said the old woman, ‘that wee thug might still be there.’

‘I’ll escort him,’ replied Bob, ‘my partner’s not been in the Kirkgate in a while and may not know his way around.’

‘Partner? Are you two an item then?’ asked the woman. ‘Anywie, thanks Son,’ She wiped her eyes with the paper hanky that Tracey had handed her when she’d come in. ‘Could ye maybe dae me another favour when yer in the Kirkgate?’

‘Of course…’ replied Bob.

‘Tina, ma name’s Tina.’

‘After Tina Turner?’ asked Tracey.

‘Aye, how did ye ken that?’

‘A just thought ye looked a wee bit like her.’

‘What was the favour?’ asked Bob, becoming a tad exasperated.

‘Wid ye mind gaun intae the bank and telling the manager that he’s another robbin bastard. A’ve just been in tae ask how much interest A’ve made oan ma Gold Account, that’s a laugh eh, A’ve had that account since A wis at school and he telt me it’s only made four pounds eighty pee. Perhaps A can interest ye in an online account he said. What’s that A asked but he got called away by one of the wee lassies who wis having trouble wie her computer. A waited for ten minutes but A couldnae wait any longer; A wis frightened the butcher would shut fir lunch and A widnae get ma man’s dinner. It wis when A came oot the bank in a hurry and wis fumblin trying tae get ma bankbook back intae in ma handbag that the wee bastard whipped ma bag out ma hand. There’s mair robbers about here now than ever before Son.’ She began crying again.

‘You can say that again,’ whispered Tod under his breath. ‘I was just telling my colleagues that before you came in.’

‘Could you no get the polis Hen?’ Tracey asked the women as she turned towards the kitchen. ‘We’re a detective agency and it’s no really our thing.’

‘Is what happened tae me no a crime Hen? Anywie, when wis the last time you saw a polisman in the Kirkgate?’

‘True,’ answered Tracey, not bothering to try to explain the difference between police and detection.

‘Right, we’ll be on our way Tina,’ interrupted Bob, ‘be back in two ticks.’

‘Told you,’ said Tod as he and Bob were in the street. ‘Greed is a terrible thing.’ He didn’t wait for a reply. You pop into Greggs and get the mini-doughnuts while I nip into the bank and let the manager know what’s happened to Tina, directly outside his bank.’

‘Hold on a minute there Musky, I’m the policeman remember.’

‘True, but you’re also the one who ate all the biscuits.’ Tod headed towards the bank. ‘I won’t be a tick – see you back at the office.’ On entering the premises he headed straight for the business counter just inside the front doors. ‘Good morning William, could I possibly have a quick word with the manager, it’s rather urgent.’ Checking a name tag and addressing its wearer accordingly usually helped.

‘Do you have an account with us Sir?’

Tod took out his wallet and presented the young man with a Special Branch identity card, the one he’d been given by Daniel Manning during his last visit to the open prison. On handing it over Daniel had sworn that it was a master key to all locks and premises. ‘Will that do?’ asked Tod.

‘I’ll just get the manager Sir.’ And the teller was off like a bat out of Hell.

The not so Special Branch man looked around the large, plush interior of the bank and smiled to himself thinking how right Daniel had been about the card.

‘Yes Officer, I’m the manager here, how can I help you?’

Tod showed the card once more. ‘I happened to be passing here half an hour ago and witnessed what I took to be a robbery directly outside the door to your premises. I was otherwise engaged helping another hapless victim of a crime or would have dealt with the situation as it occurred.’

‘I’m very sorry to hear this but if it occurred outside our bank then I don’t know what it has to do with me,’ said the manager, quietly.

‘She was a very elderly lady and has been with your bank since childhood. Your response is beginning to look like familiarity breeding contempt if you don’t mind my saying so…’ Tod looked at the man’s identification…Mr Ogilvie.

‘You’d better come this way,’ answered Mr Ogilvie, pointing towards the rear of the bank. Once in the confined office he directed Tod to a chair at the side of the man’s desk before the manager took his seat behind the desk. ‘I’m truly sorry about what has happened to the poor woman but I know nothing of such a robbery.’

‘I believe the lady spoke to you before she left the bank. It was in regard to her Gold Account,’ said Tod.

‘How do you know all this, have you interviewed her?’

‘One of my police colleagues from Constitution Street interviewed her and she explained what had happened.’ Tod filled him in word for word what they’d been told by Tina in the office.

‘Let me see, oh yes now I remember; she was questioning the interest paid on her account. But please forgive me, I still cannot see how this can have anything to do with the bank.’

‘You cannot see that the lady was in distress when she left here due to the information that her lifetime savings amounted to four pounds eighty pence interest. Can you not see that might have left her disorientated and therefore vulnerable? Coupled with that you abandoned her for one of your colleagues until she had no option but to leave the premises in a state of distress after you made her late for another appointment.’

The manager shook his head. ‘I’m sorry but I still cannot see what...’

Tod interrupted by placing his hand firmly on the desk before speaking. ‘The woman, a very loyal customer, has lost her rent money, her Council Tax money, and the money to buy food in that robbery, which may not have occurred if she had been treated with courtesy and the respect she deserves.’

‘There are some awful people out there Officer. Please do tell Mrs…’

‘It amounts to roughly one thousand pounds.’

The manager was looking as though he had other things to be getting on with.

‘In half an hour’s time she will be back in here and you will escort her to your office and will compensate her for her lack of interest on her life savings, and the distress brought upon her at the hands of a thug because she left here disorientated and ill-prepared for what happened to her. You will then send one of your staff to escort her home, via the Pork Butcher’s on Great Junction Street.’

The manager laughed, believing it a joke.

Tod stood. ‘If what I have just described to you does not take place you will find yourself and your bank on the receiving end of a social network extravaganza. I have many friends in high places and low places who will be more than happy to make sure my word travels and it will travel near and far and not be missed by your bosses and elderly shareholders and by local people here in the Kirkgate. Do I make myself clear?’

The manager sat back down heavily and put his head in his hands.

When Tod walked back into JP Associates’ office his two colleagues and Tina were tucking into the bag of mini-doughnuts.

‘Here it comes,’ said Bob as Tod closed the door. ‘How did you get on with the manager?’

‘What a nice guy,’ answered Tod. ‘Once I explained to him about Tina’s mugging outside his bank he apologised profusely, stating that someone is normally watching the close circuit cameras and should have witnessed it but they’ve had an extraordinarily busy day with the recent Bank of England interest rate rise and potential investors calling in. I also explained how upset Tina had been about the interest she’d made on her life savings. He once again apologised and said that when she’d left the bank he’d double checked the figures and what he’d told her was wrong. She’s to go back to the bank now and he will have had it sorted and there will be something waiting for her to compensate for her distress.’

‘Aye right,’ said Bob.

‘I’m not making it up. Tracey, if you don’t mind escorting Tina back to the bank. You’d better give them half an hour or so to get it organised. You can leave Tina there as the manager is going to arrange for someone to escort her home.’

‘What about the Pork Butcher?’ asked Tina.

‘I’m sure that will be attended for you too,’ answered Tod.

Still not believing what he was hearing, Bob changed the subject. ‘Tina, would you mind giving me a description of the lad who stole your bag?’ asked Bob.

‘A would if A could Son, but it wisnae a laddie, it wis a lassie wie a crewcut oan one side o her heid an mair metal oan her face than Henry Robb’s shipyard. That’s aw A can tell ye really.’

‘Mm,’ answered Bob.

The bag of mini-doughnuts were about finished when Tracey and Tina left to see the bank manager and Bob turned to his business partner. ‘What is it you call it Tod, post-modernity?’

‘Something like that.’

‘What really happened at the bank?’

‘Exactly as I said, the man was extremely accommodating. Maybe they’re not as bad as I was making out earlier, or maybe I’ve not quite lost my touch.’

Bob just shook his head before delving into the doughnut bag and finding it empty.

#

‘Daniel, it worked just as you said.’ Tod was walking home along the Water of Leith walkway.

‘What did?’

‘The Special Branch ID.’

‘Oh that. Coupled with your benevolent lying techniques I’m sure it could be a master stroke.’

Tod smiled to himself. ‘Quite possibly.’

‘Of that I am sure.’ Daniel was silent for a moment before continuing. ‘Are you around in Leith tomorrow?’

‘I surely am.’

‘Malmaison for coffee 10am?’

‘What? Don’t tell me you’re working in Leith again? What happened to your pitch at Waverley Station?’

‘I’ll explain when we meet. Have you not heard about the US Navy research vessel that collapsed in dry dock last week?’

‘I only just got out the other day remember.’

‘So you did, and you were working today?’

‘Keen as mustard.’

What about Valerie, how is she?’

‘Now don’t you go getting overprotective again Daniel, she’s my wife now and she is in Ullapool teaching art at the moment.’

‘Some homecoming.’

‘So what’s with this American ship?’

‘I’ll explain in detail tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

30th March

Tod was up earlier than normal, having got used to prison wake up time, and decided to take a walk around by Big Jake’s old place before heading to the weir on the Water of Leith. There were not many people around at this time of day, other than the occasional dogwalker. One of the friendlier wardens in the prison had told him that owning a dog or two had now reached epidemic proportions and had warned him to steer clear of his local park, unless he wanted to witness groups of owners all milling around looking lovingly at their hounds and discussing whatever one finds to discuss about dogs. ‘It’s when they pick them up and kiss them full on the lips that I can’t stand,’ he’d said, almost throwing up as he said it.

Tod was still trying to get his head around Daniel and his gift of a Special Branch ID, and whether that was payment for favours not yet called in by the Security Services for his early release. Either way, it certainly seemed to have worked with the bank manager.