Dawn 7 – Newark

Having had an early night and a good kip I  was up at sparrows fart and determined to sort out this load of old tosh once and for all.  Apart from anything else, I was getting paid and its all very well and good being charitable but I had a shed load of work to sort out as it was.

I reckoned that our lady would probably head off sometime just after  8 ish to take the kids to school.  This would give me time for a fat boys breakfast before getting out and about and being on the ground in time for her school run.  I checked my GPS and saw that the tracker was still in the same road and so presumably so was my suspects car.  Breakfast called.

I had a good breakfast and ambled back to my room well in time to get my lucky bag and clean my teeth and it was only by pure luck that I took a cursory glance showed that the tracker was moving.


My original plan had been to sit up on the car, watch our woman and follow her off.  That plan was not going to happen.

I hot footed it down to my hire car and got myself sorted out and then took stock of which way the vehicle was going. I don’t know Peterborough apart from the fact it had a pretty reasonable public golf course with some bloody deep bunkers-not far from the hotel actually.  I have to say that knowing there is a golf course with som  deep bunkers aint exactly what I would call local knowledge,  so I was at a bit of a disadvantage but the car seemed to be heading North.  I suppose most people would leave Peterborough by the A47 and then take the A1 but the A15 also goes North and with traffic and all that, oh deary me which way to go.  Decisions decisions.  I waited and the tracker stuck to the A15.  I would go with that.  Mind you I was assuming that our woman was driving the car, so I could be on a right old wild goose chase.   Fuck it head for the A15 and toe it and just hope that I had the right target in the car.

The day had not started well, but I got a break and found myself whizzing along the A15 and not far behind my target.  I suppose we had been going about 20 minutes or so when the I saw that the tracker had stopped moving and the car was parked up in a place called Bourne.  I figured this was as good a time and place to make a visual confirmation that I was following the right person.  Then I had it insight, the Chrysler Voyager was parked outside a hotel called the Angel.

Bourne is Ok in a sort of something and nothing sort of way, but the hotel was a charming old coaching inn by the looks of things.  I made a mental note that I might bring L up here on a weekend away.  I digress. I managed to park up so I could see the car, but because of the dark glass I couldn’t see if anyone was in there.  I waited about 30 minutes and then bingo out came Gina and two blokes.  One I recognised from a photo on Ginas blog as being her husband but the other was somebody I did not remember seeing before.  They got to the car and after a few minutes of what looked like agitated almost aggressive confrontational yak they got into the car and drove off.

We left Bourne and drove along the A151 I think it was before eventually getting on to the A1.  We trundled along the A1 and eventually they left the A1 and drove into the inspiring town of Newark.

Newark is the only town in the Uk which is an anagram of wanker.

They parked up in the station car park and Gina got out of the car.  With no better plan I decided to stretch my legs and follow her.  She walked very purposefully into the entrance.  I sauntered after her.  Newark Northgate is not Kings Cross and so it was not hard to keep my girl in sight, but  by the same token if she was surveillance conscious then it would be a bit of a nightmare.  On my side was the fact that she didn’t know me and had no real reason to pay me any attention.  I don’t know why, but for some reason I suddenly had bad vibes and decided not to risk being burnt by following her into the station and so stopped dead in my tracks and went briskly back to my car to see what was what.

Hpow does sixth sense work?  I am fucked if I know but if I had a quid for every time I had that feeling I would be a wealth man.  I would be even richer and less damaged if I had a quid for every time I had ignored that gut feeling and being wrong.  Research shows that a gut feeling is 95% right.  Ignore that gut feeling at your peril.  That goes for wind as well by the way!

I had just got into my car when Gina came out of the station with another bloke carrying a black brief case.  Actually it wasn’t just another bloke, it was my brother in law, Dawns husband.

The little Newark.

In a blink of an eye a lot of things became clearer.  It didn’t answer any the questions, but it sort of gave things a degree of perspective.

The Chrysler headed back towards the A1 and this time whoever was driving did not hang around, but showed a very clean pair of heels.  The journey back to Peterborough was quick.  This was just another quirky day in what so far had been a very very odd week.

It didn’t get any better when they drove into the car park of the Holiday Inn where I was staying.  Actually in the long run this turned out to be a real result.  I had a reason to be there ie I was actually a guest.

Gina and the BIL got out of the car and went into the hotel.  I followed, but quite what I thought I was going to do I don’t know.  I was in a shit or bust situation and so had no option but to play it off the cuff.  Gina and the BIL were very comfortable with each other and obviously knew each other very well judging by how tactile they were.  They checked in and got a key and whilst he was filling in a form or something Gina  moved away from the desk, got out her mobile and rang somebody.  The conversation was short, very short and I reckoned it was to her pals outside to say which room they were in.  Gina and BIL went to the lift and headed up to the room.  The indicator showed the second floor.  I called the lift and went to the second floor.

The lift opened onto a sort of sitting area.  There was a door giving access to the stairs just nearby so just like in those corny films I ducked in there. A few minutes later I heard the lift arrive and the sound of mens voices.  I needed to be fairly close to them to clock which room they were going to.  As I said earlier, I had no reason to believe they knew who I was or that they were under surveillance,  so I could afford to be fairly brazen in my approach.  I walked just behind them as one does in hotels and when they stopped and knocked at a door I carried on past at the same speed, clocking the door number- 212- in the process.   I heard the door open then close but I carried on through a set of fire doors without looking back.

So Gina and her old man have driven from Peterborough to Bourne to pick up one bloke and then to Newark to get another, who as it happened turned out to be my Brother in Law before driving back to Peterborough.

Why not get everyone to meet in Peterborough in the first place?

What was going on?

I was fairly sure they weren’t all in that hotel room shagging, but I might be wrong.

I decided to head back down stairs to the public area and to keep an eye on who left from there.

I had only been downstairs for about 15 minutes when Gina’s husband and the bloke they had picked up from Bourne emerged from the lift.  They looked very pleased with life and were smiling and talking animatedly as they headed ou to the Chrysler.  They got in and drove off.  I waited.

I waited a while and now I wasn’t so sure that the two that were left in the hotel room weren’t shagging.

Bollocks to this, it was time to grab the thistle by the thorns, or in this case the brother in law by the throat.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.