PC Plod
Went up Hampstead way yesterday. Delivered some stuff to a bloke in Belsize park then went on to meet Guy and Fazz up at the King Willy. I hate that damn’ pub. Full of piss-elegant queens posing in leather. Had a couple of drinks then went over to The Flask. Guy came. Fazz didn’t - says he’d arranged to meet a friend - which really means he was looking for trade.
Guy was full of rumours about Welsh Willy. Reckoned the police had been up at Frankie Fischer’s house. I said, How’d you know that? When was you ever up at Frankie Fischer’s house? He says, everyone’s talking. I say leave ‘em talk. Nothing to do with me.
The Flask was dead so we got the train down to Camden. Went down the Black Cap. Packed as usual. Mick from the shop was there. Said they’d been raided. I said, had they taken anything? He said they seized a pile of stuff from the back room. I said, didn’t they give you a tip off? He said, no, the bastards just turned up.
Sounds bad to me. Mick’s always been on friendly terms with the plod. They tell him they are planning a raid, he clears out the back room, they raid, find everything tickety-boo and everyone’s happy. If some of the stuff in his back room ever got to court, who knows what would happen?
I said to Mick, “Not to worry. It’ll all blow over.”
But I can see he’s worried. And I reckon maybe he’s got good reason to worry too.
I was thinking of going down to Heaven but Guy said he wanted to go for a walk. By which he meant on Hampstead Heath. I went with him but I didn’t feel in the mood so I came back home. There was another message on the answer machine from Baldie. I’m going to have to do something about him if he doesn’t give up soon.
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