The Last Big Job by Nick Oldham Read Free Book Online

asked
him several times but he only does it worse then. I want something
done about it.’
    With placating gestures, the Chief Stewardess tried to calm
the situation. The body language, coupled with soothing talk, did
the trick. The man settled back down into his seat when she
promised some action.
    The aisle seat next to Cheryl was now unoccupied. The woman
who had been sitting there, who had been vomited on, had been moved
to a vacant seat further back - one of only four on the whole plane.
    The stewardess sat down on it and addressed the
couple.
    ‘ I have spoken to the Captain about your behaviour,’ she said
firmly, but with a faint touch of nervousness in her voice, because
she recognised the instability of the two. ‘If you continue, he has
told me that there will be no alternative but to restrain you and
ensure the police are waiting for you when we land at Manchester. I
don’t want that to happen, and I’m sure you don’t either, so I
suggest you start to behave now, otherwise you’ll leave us with no
choice in the matter.’
     
     
    The detectives flicked a coin for which prisoner they
got.
    Danny ended up with the anonymous male who had slit another
guy’s throat in an argument over a girl. The first job was to find
out who ‘Mickey Mouse’ was, as he had named himself on arrival at
the station at two o’clock that morning. Had Danny been paid a
pound for every Mickey Mouse she had met in her service, she would
have been a rich woman.
    Mickey was in a foul mood. The alcohol which had worked
through his system had left him feeling very poorly and very
obnoxious. When a gaoler brought him from his cell to the Custody
Office, he was dressed in a white paper suit because his clothes
had been seized for Forensics as soon as he’d arrived in custody.
He looked like a prisoner in some science fiction film.
    ‘ Now then,’ the Custody Sergeant said amicably. ‘Would you
like to begin by telling me your real name? Because it’s not really
Mr Mouse, is it?’
    Mickey did not speak. He closed and opened his eyes in an
expression which said ‘Fuck you!’ He then gave voice to the
expression.
    The Custody Sergeant remained unperturbed. Danny wanted to
slap the prisoner.
    ‘ The implications of refusing to give your name are that you
will not get bail whatever you might have done and you’ll
definitely go to court in the morning without passing
Go.’
    Mickey spat at the Custody Officer.
     
     
    The problems on the Manchester-bound flight from Tenerife
eased when Spencer and Cheryl fell asleep. Cheryl claimed the
vacant seat next to her, propped her feet on it, curled up and
dropped her head into Spencer’s lap. Peace then reigned for about
an hour.
    Until Spencer woke up. Cramped, ill-tempered and bursting to
go to the toilet.
    Cheryl was still sleeping. He poked her roughly and she came
to, sitting up groggily, feeling dry and with a head thumping to
the beat of the dance music she’d bopped to for most of the
previous night.
    ‘ Jesus,’ she moaned pitifully. ‘God, I feel so rough. I want
to be sick again.’
    ‘ Well, don’t fuckin’ do it on me,’ Spencer warned her
unsympathetically. He stood up stiffly, using the headrest of the
seat in front to lever himself on to his feet. In the process of so
doing, he yanked the seat back several degrees. The man in it,
Spencer’s tormentee, turned and glared up at him. On seeing the
man’s face, Spencer leaned aggressively forwards, hissing, ‘And as
for you, just fuck off, you cunt.’ He flicked the man’s face with
his middle finger, very, very hard. An action which prompted an
angry outburst.
    ‘ You little shit!’ the man shouted. He shot to his feet, but
before he could spin round and lay a good punch on Spencer, one
which had been festering for almost three hours, Spencer got in
first. His fist powered into the back on the man’s neck, sending
him sprawling across the seat in front of him.
    ‘ Ha!’ yelled Spencer gleefully.
    With a