Referendum by Campbell Hart Read Free Book Online Page B

the table.
    “I don’t want to know who you are; I just need to know how I can get hold of you.”
    “You do need to know about me, just so you’re aware of the situation you’ve put yourself in. I know Donald from Belfast, which is a city I’m very well connected in. There are people there who know how to deal with wayward bodies – loudmouths who say too much at the wrong time. I can help you find out more about Donald, but I’ll need to be sure you know what to say and when to say it.”
    “I won’t be censored by you or anyone else.”
    Niall Murphy grabbed the farthest edge of the table and pulled himself face-to-face with Sandy, “If you fuck with me you will live to regret it. Be in no doubt about that.”
    Looking down, Niall’s expression changed, “What the fuck is this?” He had noticed one of the buttons on Sandy’s shirts had no thread, “I’ve seen these before,” Niall ripped off the button, “Use a fucking camera on me would you?” The table was moving under Niall’s weight; the waiter had stopped collecting glasses. There was no-one else in the pub.
    “Where’s the footage?”
    Sandy stammered; he hadn’t expected the camera to be seen, it never had been clocked before. Stupid, stupid, stupid . “It’s on a cloud file. I can get it from my laptop.”
    “Which is where, in your bag?”
    “In my car, out the back.”
    Two minutes later they were in the back lane where Sandy had parked. He handed the laptop over to the man he realised he had badly underestimated. He was scared and didn’t know what to do to turn the tables back in his favour.
    Niall stood and held the laptop, weighing it in his mind, “It’s a sturdy piece of kit; they don’t make them like this anymore, keep a lot of your own stuff on here do you?”
    Sandy nodded; he was getting nervous about the direction the conversation was heading. He wanted to run but he had been backed into a corner.
    “No point looking around, there’s no-one to help you here. We can still work together but there’s something you need to learn.”
    Before Sandy could say anything else the laptop swung into his face. He raised his hands to try and protect himself but he couldn’t keep the pain at bay. Blow after blow rained down on him; the plastic of the laptop splintering under the pressure.
    The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a rasping Belfast accent, “Mention this to anyone and you’re dead, pal.”
     

234 Evesham Road, Kendal, Lake District
     
    Arbogast was struck by how ordinary the estate was. As a child he’d imagined his father might be rich, living in a huge house in the country. Fast forward three decades and the truth was more mundane.
    The Sat Nav had been guiding him towards Evesham Road for the last three hours. He had stopped more times than he’d planned as the nerves starting to build. Now he was parked outside the family home he didn’t want to take the final steps. It was a modest two bed semi-detached property which looked like it dated from the early 80s. Rough cast with brown wooden panels under the windows it looked like it had once belonged to the Council. The front garden was immaculate, with a small hedge forming a perimeter around a well groomed rose garden. He had parked at the other side of the street, the dead end in the cul de sac the road sign had warned of. He’d had this conversation in his head a thousand times but now he was faced with actually meeting his wayward parent he was at a loss for words. No sentence could adequately sum up how he felt about the last 40 years, about the lack of contact or apparent concern for his well being. Arbogast inhaled slowly and held the breath for about ten seconds before letting go. He’d heard it lowered your heart rate, helped you relax, but it wasn’t working. His heart was racing as he lifted the clasp on the black metal gate and edged up the seven crazed flagstones which led to the front door. He noticed a sign on the door.
     
    Mr