May Day - Part Thirteen

[solosundance.livejournal.com]

Murphy got distracted from clock-watching by the girls jigging along to Elvis Costello by the jukebox but when he realised it was half past nine and none of the bar staff at the Bell and Badger had come to give him a message, he began to wonder if they were heading towards a bit of a may day situation here. 

Polishing off his pint he was about to head to the phone box outside the gents when he caught sight of Bodie entering the pub from the other side.  He raised a hand.  Bodie cut a single-minded swathe through the bodies congregated in his way. 

“Go on then,” Murphy said, “what are you having?”

“Doyle here?” snapped Bodie, looking around as if he was sure to materialize from behind a punter.

“Nope,” Murphy said.  “Thought you two ...”

“We were,” Bodie said.  “I went to get something at St Pancras .. tell you in a minute.  Doyle was coming straight here.  I only dropped him off half an hour ago at the cashpoint.  He was in a funny bloody mood, Murph.”

“Eh?” Murphy said, leaning in close.

“Think he might be in trouble,” Bodie said tensely.  Murphy goggled at him.  Impatient, Bodie caught hold of his arm and began to drag him out, pushing aside the Sunday drinkers.

“Oy!” responded one, not appreciating it.  A small tidal wave of lager had landed on his feet.  A big bloke, with tattooed hands and two big friends.  “What’s your problem?”

Bodie turned back.  “No problem,” he said through gritted teeth.

Murphy cursed.  A little raised-hands gesture might have done it.  An apology almost certainly.  The big bloke planted his feet apart.

“You need to learn to be a bit more careful, mate,” he said, “or you might find youself getting a slap.”

“Oh yes?”

Shit, Bodie.  Not now.   Say sorry.  Move your arse.

When he saw he wasn’t going to, Murphy plastered on a smile.  “Listen,” he said.  “He’s sorry, really he is.  No harm intended.  We’re just in a bit of a hurry.”

“I don’t like your fucking attitude,” tattoo man said into Bodie’s face as if Murphy hadn’t spoken.

“Yeah?” said Bodie, “well I don’t like your aftershave.”

He held the stare between them for a long moment.  Then sensing the man was backing down, Bodie shrugged his way past and took the lead towards the main doors.  Behind them, tattoo man jerked his head at his mates and the three of them dispersed silently, heading for the back.

“Ten minute walk,” Bodie was muttering when they got outside.  “He should have been here.”  He led the way round the corner into the car-park, his pace quickening all the time.  “Something’s happened.  I know it, Murph.  Something’s going on with hi -”

Murphy heard his feet slither to a halt on the gravel.  “Oh bugger,” Bodie said.

“Right,” said the tattoo man coming out of the shadows, henchmen at his heels.  “Now for the slap.”

 

May Day - Part Fourteen

[schnuffi.livejournal.com]

Bodie gritted his teeth. Not now of all times. Something had happened to Doyle and those bloody idiots delayed his search for his missing partner. He could hear Murphy taking in a sharp breath behind him. Between the two of them they should be able to get rid of those half-drunk brutes. Squaring his shoulders he took a step forward, planting his broad frame in front of Mr. Tattoo.

"Are you threatening me?" Bodie snarled, his eyes flashing. He'd never been able to turn down a challenge and he'd be damned if he started now, Doyle or no Doyle.

The tattooed bloke grinned, showing a row of uneven teeth and raised his fists in reply. Bodies gaze fell on the right hand of Mr. Tattoo and he froze. The man was wearing a black watch round his right wrist. A very special watch Bodie would recognize anywhere as it was similar to the one he had. Last time he'd seen that watch it had been round Doyle's wrist.

Forgetting everything else around him including Murphy, he fixed his eyes on the man in front of him. The bastard was still grinning, not knowing what was about to hit him. With a quick move he pulled out a knife and started circling Bodie, who never took his eyes of the man's face. Tattoo man lunged suddenly but Bodie was way faster. He sidestepped neatly, grabbed the blokes arm and twisted it sharply while kicking the man in the chest at the same time. With the grisly sound of tearing muscle the arm popped out of its joint. Mr. Tattoos eyes almost did the same trick as he fell to his knees screaming and holding onto his dangling arm.

A quick look around confirmed that Murphy was in control of the other two guys. One was on the ground holding his bollocks, while Murph had the third guy in a tight headlock. With a nasty grin Bodie turned his attention back to the man at his feet. Grabbing him by the hair he pulled him up, which promptly resulted in more screaming.

"And now my friend, you're gonna talk or I really start hurting you," Bodie grated between clenched teeth.

May Day. Part Fifteen.

[draycevixen.livejournal.com]

 

“Fucking hell, he never said you was a bloody nutter!” The tattooed man nursed his arm close to his body.

 

“Who, the bastard who hired you?”

 

“Yeah, he said this would be a simple job. Easy money, he says.”

 

“What d’you do to him?”

 

“Nothing, I—”

 

Bodie let go of  the tattooed man’s hair and grabbed his good arm, twisting it up behind his back. “Want to go for the matching set?”

 

“Didn’t do nothin’ to the bloke who hired us.”

 

Bodie laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Obviously whoever hired you wasn’t shopping for brains. I don’t mean your boss.”

 

The man Murphy had in the headlock passed out from the lack of oxygen and Murphy let him drop to the tarmac.

 

“What’s the matter Bodie?” He moved in closer. “Why don’t you want to know who hired them?”

 

“Priorities.” Bodie pulled at Tattoo man’s injured arm again, causing him to scream, as he wrenched Doyle’s watch off. He showed it to Murphy. “I want to know where Doyle is and what this bastard did to him.”

 

Murphy put his hand on Bodie’s shoulder. “Look, I understand you being upset, but we need to find out who hired him and we can’t—”

 

Bodie shook Murphy’s hand off. “Leave if you want to, go and report back to Cowley. Tell him you were never here. But this arsehole is going to tell me what he did with Doyle or there won’t be enough of him left to scrape off my shoes.”

 

Tattoo man cowered on the ground. “But I told you, we didn’t do anythin’ to the bloke who hired us.”

 

Bodie lowered the watch in front of his face. “For the last fucking time, I’m not asking about the bloke who hired you. I’m asking about the bloke you got this watch from. Where’s Doyle?”

 

“Ray Doyle right?”

 

“Yes. Ray. Doyle. And he better still be breathing else—”

 

“He was fine when I saw ‘im. I know Ray from when he was a copper. He hired me and me mates ‘ere. I took a fancy to his watch so I got ‘im to throw that in too. Come to think of it, he warned me not to put it on ‘til later. I should 'ave listened to him.” The tattooed man nodded at Murphy. “Pointed out yer handsome friend over there through the pub window, said to wait until he was joined by a ‘short haired bloke with an attitude problem’ and then to slow the two of you down for a while. Said not to really hurt you, but to rough you up a bit. The knife was supposed to scare you, that’s all. I actually thought it was lucky when you spilled me drink, gave me a chance to make it look like it weren't planned, like Doyle asked—”

 

“Ray hired you? I’ll bloody kill him!”