Crunch Time Read Online Free

regaining his true self step by step and the food, crap though it was, tasted amazingly wonderful.
    His cellmate, on the other hand, simply pushed his food around with his plastic fork.
    They had eaten in silence until Jagger – to whom silence seemed intolerable – blurted, ‘I never knew about that Jag … fuck!’
    His companion gave him a contemptuous, but amused look. ‘Bollocks,’ he said, ‘and I’ve never exceeded the speed limit.’
    â€˜It’s fuckin’ true, I tell ya.’
    â€˜Pull the other one,’ he said tiredly. ‘Got my own worries.’
    Jagger’s attention returned to his thin, salty, lukewarm chips. He packed a couple into his mouth and ate with relish.
    â€˜Can have mine if you want.’ His cellmate offered his plate.
    Jagger stopped chomping. ‘You haven’t gozzed on ’em, have you?’ he asked, bringing a laugh from the other man. A slight chink in the armour. Jagger took the plate and tipped the food on to his, then proffered his right hand. ‘Frank Jagger … and thanks for this morning, by the way.’
    â€˜Which bit?’
    â€˜Calmin’ me down … I was still feeling nasty from the drink, I reckon. I’d’ve been in real shit if I’d’ve smacked the bitch one, I suppose.’
    â€˜Deep, deep pooh.’
    The man still hadn’t shaken Jagger’s hand, so Jagger waved it again, encouragingly, and reluctantly they shook. ‘And your name is?’
    â€˜Ingram,’ he admitted. ‘Ryan Ingram.’ The handshake continued, but Ingram seemed keen to detach himself from the grip. He looked sideways at Jagger. ‘Do I know you? Your face looks a bit familiar.’
    â€˜Been about a bit, I suppose. Seen a bit, done a bit … now it’s all gone shit-shaped.’
    â€˜Hence the bender to end all benders?’
    â€˜Blew a hundred and eight, which is pretty good going, I’m told. Well worth a three-year ban and a grand’s fine … which I’ll never be able to pay, which means I’ll never get the cunts off my back.’ He exhaled, a woozy sensation coming over him again. ‘Still a bit pissed, I think. Four days does that to a bloke, especially one my age with no friggin’ prospects and a real hard cunt breathin’ down my neck.’ He emitted an exaggerated whump of a sigh, wondering if he should go on to burden Ingram with further tales of woe. Or would it be too much? Would Ingram just close down? The building of a relationship, as Jagger knew, was a delicate thing. Too much, too soon could destroy something even before it began.
    However, Ingram asked, ‘What was in the “not-stolen” car that the detective was so interested in?’
    Jagger froze. He tapped his nose, put his plate down on the bed, stood and crossed to the stainless steel toilet in the corner.
    â€˜Actually,’ he said, pointing around the cell, then to his ears, to indicate the possibility of hidden listening devices, ‘I’ve no idea. Whatever it is’ – he placed his forefinger on the recessed toilet flush button in the wall – ‘they must’ve planted it.’ He pushed and the toilet flushed. He went back and sat next to Ingram and whispered three words into his ear, using his hands and the running water as a sound barrier.
    Even when they were handcuffed and waiting in the holding cage in readiness for court, Ingram still did not divulge the reason for his own arrest to Jagger, remaining tight-lipped and mysterious. All Jagger had learned was that Ingram had been interviewed and charged with a minor offence and had bail refused by the custody officer for some spurious reason. Two other prisoners were also in the cage and Jagger did not get further opportunity to speak to Ingram as they were herded out into a van and conveyed to court. They were then placed in another holding cell to await their appearance,