Born Bad. Josephine Cox
first instance of its kind, though it was the most serious.
‘I hope so. I intend following every avenue, until I do.’
After they parted and Bill was going through the door, Joe called after him. ‘BILL!’ He came scurrying towards him. ‘Don’t say a word to anyone about what you’ve been told here.’ He tapped his nose meaningfully. ‘Least said soonest mended, eh?’
‘I won’t say a word,’ Bill assured him, ‘and don’t you worry – I expect you’ll find that the driver overlooked the rolls when he loaded up at the other end.’
But as Bill walked to his car, the full impact of the incident suddenly hit him hard. Even if the driver had accidentally miscounted his load, whoever checked the rolls into the warehouse should have noticed.
It was a puzzle, and a worrying one at that. Big heavy rolls of canvas didn’t just disappear. Besides, you needed more than one man to move them. He recalled something Joe had said about an arrangement.
My God! Bill thought. Was there really a thief among them? Somebody who was willing to put all their livelihoods at risk? And if so, which one was the culprit?
Naw! he decided. I can’t believe that. I won’t! Besides, if we had a thief among us, I’m sure we’d know.
It’ll be a simple mistake, that’s what it’ll be.
But like Joe, he could not be certain.
It was a bad thing, and if it had to be dealt with by management, they’d all be under suspicion; each and every man jack of them.
After a process of elimination, his thoughts came to Phil Saunders. ‘I’d bet my life that Stuart and Arnie are as straight as the day’s long,’ he muttered. ‘But if I’m honest, I can’t be that sure of Saunders.’
He had not known Phil as long as he’d known the others, but even in their relatively short acquaintance, over two years, he had come to realise that Saunders had depths of wickedness in him.
‘Wickedness, bordering on evil!’ When he said it out loud like that, it seemed rather inconceivable but where Saunders was concerned, he should know by now, anything was possible.
He thought of Judy Saunders, the man’s wife. ‘He’s a damned bully,’ he muttered. ‘We all know that from Pauline at the Bedford Arms. There’s talk that he once beat Judy so badly, she was put in hospital for a week.’ His expression darkened. ‘Bastard! He should be hung, drawn and quartered!’
Ashamed, he glanced at himself in the rear-view mirror. That was just gossip though. Pauline herself had denied any knowledge of it, but who was to say what the truth was? As the old saying had it: there was no smoke without fire.
The pub had closed half an hour since, but two customers lingered.
‘Alan! Get him out of here!’ hissed Pauline, who had no time for Phil Saunders, and even less for the woman with him. ‘I’ve a damned good mind to turn the hosepipe on the pair of ’em!’
Pauline’s contempt was heightened by their lewd laughter and sniggering, and how the girl was whispering in Phil’s ear while he had his hand up her skirt. Phil Saunders was a married man with a spiteful side to him, while the girl was one of a shameless pack, got for two-a-penny in Bedford Town.
The one person Pauline cared about was Judy, who had to put up with this bastard.
‘Alan!’ She called her husband again. ‘Just look at them! Turn my stomach, they do. And there’s Judy waiting at home, wondering where the hell he is.’
‘Yes, all right, I can see for myself what they’re up to.’ Alan stopped wiping a table and emptied an ashtray into the bucket on the floor. Like Pauline, he was sickened to see what was going on. ‘You get off to bed, love. I’ll deal with this.’
‘I want him out NOW!’ Hands on hips, she was determined to make sure he put them both out on the pavement, with the door securely bolted behind them.
‘Listen to me, love, I’d rather you got out of the way. I’m not risking you getting involved in a skirmish. You know well enough what Phil can be like when he’s had a few. Now, go on, Pauline. Do as I ask.’ He gave her a gentle push. ‘Away upstairs with you. I’ll not be far behind.’
Bristling with anger, Pauline made her way across the room, passing Phil Saunders and the girl on the way. ‘You no-good rubbish!’ She glared down at him. ‘You should be ashamed. You don’t deserve a wife like Judy.’
‘Who the devil d’you think you’re talking to?’ Phil struggled to his feet, then fell back in the seat and was laughing out loud, one arm round the floozy and the other steadying himself on the chair. ‘Me and my friend here, we pay good money for our booze, and we don’t bother nobody. The thing is,’ he burped noisily, ‘we don’t want to be disturbed.’ He gave a lazy wink. ‘You know what I’m saying, don’t you, eh?’ He scowled. ‘So go on, bugger off and leave us to it, why don’t you?’
Before Pauline could reply, Alan was there to intervene. ‘You’d best go,’ he told Saunders. ‘And take your “friend” with you.’
‘Oh, dearie me!’ Hanging onto the woman, Saunders managed to stand up straight. ‘Want us out, do you?’
‘That’s the idea, yes.’
‘What if I said we’re not moving from here …’ he turned to grin at the girl ‘… not for a while anyway?’
‘I would not advise it.’
‘Well, we’re not going, so what d’you intend doing about that, eh?’
Alan’s answer was to take hold of the woman’s arm and lead her to the door, with Saunders tugging at her, cursing and swearing, and threatening all manner of punishment. ‘You’ll not get away with it!’ he warned the older man. ‘You know what I’m capable of when I set my mind to it.’
‘Oh yes – I know what you’re capable of all right, especially when it comes to beating up women. But you don’t know what I’m capable of. Up to now, I’ve been polite, but you wouldn’t want to push me too far!’
Handling the woman carefully, Alan prepared to usher her through the door. ‘You’d best make your way home,’ he instructed. ‘The pub’s shut and I’m about to lock up.’
‘She’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.’ Coming up behind him, Phil bumped Alan aside, grabbed the girl and yanked her backwards. The two of them lost their balance and began rolling about the floor laughing hysterically. ‘Shut up, woman!’ Saunders gave her a playful slap. ‘Come on, get me up.’
Grabbing the pair of them by the scruff of the neck, Alan pushed them out on the pavement. ‘I should shift a bit smartish if I were you,’ he advised them, ‘before the police happen along and lock you in the cells for a night.’
Addressing the girl, he gave her a piece of well-meant advice. ‘If you’ve got an ounce of common sense, you’ll stay well away from this fella. When he’s sober he’s nasty, and when he’s drunk, he’s even nastier than that.’
His meaning was clear. ‘It might be best if you didn’t hang around to find out.’
Some part of his message must have got through her drink-sozzled brain, because she fought Saunders off and began to walk unsteadily down the street on her own.
When she was far enough away, Alan hoisted Phil Saunders by the collar and slammed him against the wall. ‘You’ve got a lovely young wife at home,’ he reminded Saunders. ‘She’s worth ten of that little tart. I don’t know how you got your claws into Judy, but if I was her, I wouldn’t even let you through the door!’
Humiliated and angry, Saunders began blustering. ‘It’s none of your damned business. Judy is my woman and I’ll do as I please – have you got that?’
He