Blood Money (chapters seventeen and eighteen.) (standard:Suspense, 4420 words) [9/18] show all parts
Author: Hulsey	Added: Sep 24 2011	Views/Reads: 2297/1767	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Continued.

17 

Wearing a garish, yellow and orange flowered shirt, Jack Pepper was
almost invisible to the London public, such is the tolerant fashion 
sense of the capital population. Unusually for March it was a 
stiflingly hot day and the community had shed their winter wear. 

He puffed on his pipe nervously and sipped his second glass of Jack
Daniels, an extreme stimulant, given that it was just after noon. The 
redheaded reporter lounged in the beer garden situated in Soho, 
checking his wristwatch constantly. Every sun-worshipper that caught 
his eye was regarded with a suspicious eye. 

Schofield, dressed casually in denims, tee shirt and sunglasses,
sauntered towards the nervous journalist. He settled at his table and 
unscrewed the top from his bottled water. After swallowing a mouthful 
of the refreshing liquid, he regarded Pepper. 

“A bit early to be hitting the hard stuff isn't it, Jack?” 

“Are you certain nobody followed you?” 

“Relax,” whispered Schofield, swatting away a pesky fly. “Christ, that
sun is hot. Is it really only March?” 

“Didn't I tell you that I didn't want to see you ever again?” moaned
Pepper. “I'm certain they're watching me.” 

“Who's watching you, Jack? Shit, chill out will you.” 

“Chill out? Sam didn't kill himself did he? Do you think he talked?” 

Schofield snarled at his companion. “You pathetic, selfish arsehole.
You're only worried about yourself aren't you? What about poor Sam?” 

Pepper waited until a pretty girl passed by before answering. “O'Hara
thinks that Sam ripped him off. It was no suicide... Our lives could be 
in danger, Dean.” 

“I know who took the money.” 

Pepper almost choked on his drink. “What?” 

“Mukhtar, with a little help from his friends staged the robbery.” 

“How do you know this?” 

“I just do... Two of his accomplices overheard me and Sam talking in
Trafalgar Square.” 

“You spoke about the money?” 

Schofield nodded. “What I can't understand though, is why they were
watching us? I mean, as far as Mukhtar knew, he was being paid by 
cheque, so why would he appoint two men to listen in to our 
conversation?” 

Pepper rattled his now empty glass; the sound of the ice cubes
irritating Schofield. “Wasn't one hundred grand enough for Mukhtar?” 
“It seems not,” replied Schofield... “Mukhtar must have picked up on 
the fact that O'Hara deals in hard cash, and maybe that's why his 
cronies followed us. He must have known that O'Hara would confide in 
me. Seems they needed confirmation before they set up the robbery.” 

The reporter puffed pensively on his pipe. “So now what?” 

“Now, Jack, I find a way of getting our money back.” 

“Are you serious? Even if Mukhtar did take the money, how would you find
him? I hardly think he's returned to his address in Pakistan... Why 
don't you just tell O‘Hara who's got his money.” 

“Are you crazy? Perhaps I would have before, but now... O'Hara had Sam
killed and I aim to hurt the Paddy where it hurts; in his pocket... 
Don‘t even think about tipping O‘Hara off anonymously, Jack, or I swear 


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