by Adam Maxwell
Violet stared. Percy stared back. He wasn’t grinning any more.
Looking at him now, doughy, his hair visibly thinner, the attitude, Violet felt... like it had happened to someone else. But it hadn’t. She had been with him.
“I have a real question,” said Violet eventually. “What Will did to Jenny. Was that meant for me? The nightstick to the head. Was that part of your master plan?”
“Planning and thinking, that’s all you ever did.” Percy didn’t want to take this lying down. “I heard about what Will did and no it wasn’t what I wanted to happen. That Will’s a fucking psycho is all.”
Violet finally picked up her espresso and took a sip. It was already cold. She sipped anyway, letting the bitter goodness wash across her tongue.
She carefully placed the tiny cup in its equally tiny saucer.
“That’s all?” she asked slowly.
Percy grinned and shrugged.
“That’s all?” Violet was getting quieter with each word and yet people at the surrounding tables were still beginning to turn around and stare. Percy instantly regretted grinning. “That is pretty fucking far from all,” she hissed. “This was never about how you broke up with me. It was about the fact that you put Will into that crew whether or not you told him to beat someone to death.”
Percy’s face dropped. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I–”
“So that’s all Jenny was… collateral? A bad judgement call on your part? Is that what you’re saying?”
Regaining his composure, Percy rounded on Violet. “These things happen. You do what you have to do.”
“That’s precisely the point, Percy. You didn’t have to do any of it. You didn’t have to try to get me arrested, you didn’t have to put someone in the crew who you knew was... was...” Violet faltered, the image of Jenny’s battered head still raw in her memory. “Was that the plan? Take care of her then take care of me? Two dead birds then throw Will to the wolves?”
Percy picked up his coffee and blew on the surface.
“Was that your plan, Percy?”
Percy shrugged as he put the coffee back down. “I forget.”
“I want to know,” said Violet, her voice thin and quiet, the hatred from her eyes boring into him. “I want to know whether you intended to hand me over to the police or kill me. Is that such a hard thing for you to talk about?”
“Is that why we’re here? Because I’m sick of talking. That was always your problem, all you wanted to do was talk, talk, talk.” Percy leaned over the table towards Violet. “You want to talk about your feelings?” he said in a whiny voice. “You want to hug it out? Piss off. It would be easier if you were banged up because if I came to talk to you at least there’d be a sheet of glass between the two of us, and if you were dead I would still be in bed right now.”
Violet jerked her head forward as if she were going to head-butt him. Percy flinched away from her, knocking his almost full and very hot coffee off the table and onto the floor. The whole cafe went quiet.
The waitress scampered over with a cloth and began mopping at the mess Percy had created. The background mutter of conversation began again but Percy and Violet just stared each other down.
“Would you like me to get you another one?” the waitress asked.
Percy looked over to hear. “No, I won’t be staying.”
“You need to make amends. What you did had consequences. For you. For Jenny,” Violet said as the waitress made her way back to the counter. “He beat her half to death. And that’s on you.”
Percy didn’t sit down. “It’s been a year and a half, Violet. And I get it, you’re bitter about it all and now you roll into Kilchester and want your revenge. Well, I’m going to tell you now, it is not going to happen.” Percy’s phone vibrated in his jeans pocket but he ignored it. He was on a roll and he wasn’t going to stop. “You want the truth? You want closure? I told Will to put Jenny down. I told him to put you down and I called the police on all of you. You know what else? I did it because a woman whose name I can barely remember suggested it to me.”
Violet stared. The other twenty people in the cafe stared. The waitress stared.
Percy glanced around and became suddenly self-conscious, dropping his voice to a whisper and leaning towards her again. “I’m not some rinky dink fence now, I’ve moved on too. I work for Big Terry these days, so if you’re staying in town, stay out of my way. I’ll certainly be staying out of yours.”
Violet didn’t speak. Left the silence to hang and then slammed her palms on the table.
Percy flinched again and jumped back.
Violet stood up and walked out of the cafe.
Chapter 29
Percy waited what he considered an appropriate amount of time before leaving the Cafe in the Park. It wasn't that he was embarrassed; he didn't give a fuck what the other people in the cafe thought of him, it was simply that he didn't want to end up bumping into Violet.
Who the hell did she think she was, trying to tell him what to do? Percy glowered out of the window for a moment and then remembered he'd received a message on his phone. Fishing it out of his jeans' pocket wasn't the easiest thing in a sitting position but he wrestled it out.
Are you around? Need to speak to you about shifting something. Lucas.
This Lucas bloke was keen to get Percy to shift some painting or other. And he hadn't even stolen it yet. Cocky little bastard. But Damien vouched for him and had put them in touch, so...
If you couldn't trust your friends, who could you trust?
I'm in the city centre. Can meet you there if you like.
Percy texted then pulled his coat tight to ward off the cold and began to walk the path through the trees that led out of the park.
Yeah, inside or out?
This Lucas bloke was keen. But respectful. Letting Percy choose the venue. He liked that. Not like Violet and her bloody threats and demands. He thought about it for a second then began texting back.
War memorial on Fawcett Street. 5 minutes.
*
Violet had to move quickly to get away from the Cafe in the Park to ensure Percy wasn’t following her. She couldn’t risk him seeing the van they were using. His was a flapping mouth and if she was going to make sure he got what was coming to him then she needed to stay out of his direct line of sight.
How did she feel now that she had confronted him? She had anticipated that her worst suspicions would be proved right and there they were – confirmed. The chill wind had taken her temper off the boil enough that she felt clear headed, but Percy’s admission and, well, his whole goddamn attitude towards her was enough to confirm that revenge would be dealt.
Taking her phone from her pocket she sent a quick text to Lucas.
Time to pick up the package.
Leaving the park, Violet pressed the fob on the van’s keyring and it chirruped its acknowledgement. Lucas’ reply came back as Violet climbed into the driver’s seat. As she pulled the car into the traffic and turned up the heater, she wondered if Damien had finished the forgeries.
Trying her best to multitask, Violet whipped off her jacket as soon as she hit a set of traffic lights, managing to pull on a black cap and matching hoodie before the lights turned green. It was time to do some surveillance. Her phone vibrated again. This time it was Katie.
East exit
Violet was already en route and by the time Percy exited the park she was parked way up the street at the east exit of the park where it met Fawcett Street. As soon as Violet had eyes on Percy she cut the engine. Still not sure whether he would stop around here or move on, Violet climbed out of the driver’s seat and started setting up some of the monitoring gear as Zoe had shown her. The camera feed was live and the red circle on the computer meant that it was recording but the audio wasn’t up and running.
Staring at the feed of Percy crossing towards the war memorial, the fury began bubbling inside of her and peaked as she saw a familiar face approaching from the oth
er direction.
Lucas.
Trying to remember how to position the directional microphone, Violet wound the passenger window down and adjusted it, pointing it where she thought it should go. Violet watched as Percy approached the war memorial and sat down on the bench in front of it. She watched as Lucas approached the war memorial and sat down beside Percy.
The two men started talking.
She put on the headphones. Nothing. It wasn’t picking anything up.
“Fuck,” Violet hissed under her breath. “What the fuck is going on?” She fumbled with another wire and with a pop that nearly deafened her voices started coming through. The wrong voices.
Violet stared at the screen in a panic. She had to know what they were saying.
“Fuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuck,” she spat, trying and failing to move soundlessly within the van. Reaching forward, she got hold of the microphone and adjusted the direction. Adjusted it again. And again. And finally she had it.
“...Damien for years,” It was Lucas’ voice. Coming through the headphones.
Zoe had said that if it was coming through the headphones it was recording.
Violet stared at the computer screen, transfixed. She was amazed, too, at the quality the microphone could pick up. Admittedly it had a swirling, crackled, quality, like some sort of cyber-demon, but you could clearly hear what was being said.
“Yeah, he mentioned you but right now you’ve got nothing for me to shift. So why the fuck are we here?” Percy, playing the big man, Violet thought. Trying to impress Lucas with piss and wind.
There was some interference in the signal as two young girls walked through the field of the microphone.
Violet winced as their posh accents and inane babble invaded her headspace.
And then they were gone and Lucas was speaking again. “–that you work for Big Terry but, because of how this painting is coming into my possession... I want to keep as few people in the loop as possible.”
“What do you mean?” asked Percy. There was a metallic ching as he flicked open a Zippo and touched the flame to a cigarette. “If you want me to do this off the books I need to know the score.”
“It’s a painting. It’s worth–” Lucas cut out again, this time it was absolute silence. Violet returned to swearing profusely and plugging and unplugging wires.
“How fucking much?!” Percy started coughing, apparently in surprise. “Mate, you have some big balls to be talking those numbers.”
“Damien said you could shift it though. Can you?” Lucas sounded desperate.
Violet stared, a frown plastered across her brow, watching intently at how the meeting was playing out.
“Who’s running the crew?” Percy took another drag on his cigarette and pulled his coat in tighter.
“Does it matter?”
“It matters.”
“Woman called Violet Winters. You know her?” asked Lucas.
“Do I know Violet Winters?” repeated Percy. He laughed a thin laugh through his nose. Violet stared at the image on the computer and had to resist the urge to push his head through a window for the second time in as many hours. “I am aware of her, yes.”
“Well?” said Lucas. “Can you shift the painting without involving anyone else?”
“So Violet has put together a crew to rob a painting. Which painting was it?” Percy was fishing. Violet adjusted the headphones and shook her head. What was Lucas thinking?
“Ah, no,” said Lucas. “I’m not having you jumping in there and grabbing it first.”
Violet’s phone started buzzing. It was Zoe. She ignored it. Whatever it was could wait.
Percy shrugged. “So you’re going to help her to steal this mystery artwork and then you’re going to… what? Walk off with it, leaving the stupid cow standing there with nothing?”
Violet went back to her mental list of ‘most painful ways to kill a man’ and started picturing the outcomes. It was either that or scream so loudly they would see her.
Lucas nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“My friend,” said Percy. “I think we have ourselves an agreement, in principle. I’ll take thirty per cent.”
“Thirty? Can you do any better?” Lucas sounded like an amateur.
“No,” said Percy. “No I can’t.”
“Okay then,” said Lucas. “But one thing I want to ask.”
“Fire away,” said Percy, flicking his cigarette butt in an arc toward the gutter.
“How can you make sure Big Terry doesn’t find out.”
“Listen to me,” said Percy, and leaned in closer to Lucas. “Big Terry is a big fucking moron. He wouldn’t notice a turd if you smeared it on his top lip. I’ve been skimming off the top of practically every deal I’ve ever been involved in for him and he doesn’t notice any of it.”
“Really? How the hell do you manage that?” asked Lucas, awed.
“Well,” Percy replied. “Maybe it’s because I’m skimming off the top. So he can’t see it!” Percy laughed his reedy laugh.
“I don’t get it,” said Lucas, smiling politely. “What do you mean?”
“Have you met Big Terry?” asked Percy.
Lucas shook his head.
“He’s a dwarf. A midget. Whatever the fuck. He’s a short arse. So if I’m skimming off the top then he can’t see it because he’s too fucking short. Geddit?”
“Oh, I see.” Lucas nodded but didn’t laugh.
Violet took off the headphones and laid them down. So there it was. Betrayal. Only thing was to decide what to do with the information. Could Lucas–
The phone in Violet’s pocket had not stopped vibrating through the whole exchange. She couldn’t ignore it any more. It was Zoe. Violet opened the most recent text.
Call me as soon as you get this. Have found out they are moving the painting from the banker’s house. We now only have four days or the painting is in the wind.
Violet screamed.
Chapter 30
An uncomfortable silence had fallen on the warehouse as Zoe, Barry, Lucas and Katie waited for Violet to return. Usually Barry would be tinkering with the cars, and Zoe doing things to the computer equipment that no-one else understood, but even they were just sitting around. Waiting.
Zoe had told them all that the painting was to be moved and now they were waiting for their leader to return. To tell them it was all going to be alright. To inspire them.
Eventually Lucas had gotten bored of staring at their faces, staring at the walls, and had whipped a pack of cards from his pocket.
“Not after the last time,” Zoe said with a sigh. “So don’t give me any of your over and under Texas Pokering, alright?”
“I could teach you,” said Lucas, trying to put on his game face and not look like he was about to empty the purses and wallets of everyone there. “Show you how to cheat.”
“Fuck it,” said Barry, pulling a table between them. “Show me your magic finger, sir.”
Katie pulled up a chair, tapped the table and nodded.
“Come over here with me.” Lucas patted the chair next to him.
“You can teach me,” said Zoe as she moved to Lucas’ side. “But tap a chair like I’m a dog again and I’ll snap off your fingers.”
Lucas nodded and shuffled the cards.
Twenty minutes later and Zoe was none the wiser as to how to keep track of the position of each card in the deck, Katie’s enormous hands weren’t coping well with false shuffles and Barry was pretty sure that he was down thirty quid.
“What the fuck happened to you morose motherfuckers?” was Violet’s opening gambit when she eventually did step through the door.
There were various mumblings from the collected crew but nothing concrete.
Violet closed the door and walked towards them, frowning as she saw the pile of money in front of Lucas.
“Cheating,” said Zoe. “Lucas was teaching us how he does it. He’s–”
“A fucking card-counting cunt,” Barry interjected.
Lucas held up his palms. “It’s a fair cop,” he said with a grin.
Barry shook his head in frustration. He and Katie reached over to Lucas and grabbed their money back from the pile. Lucas pushed the remaining notes away from himself then picked up the cards and carefully put them back in the the box and into his pocket.
Violet put down a bag containing computer equipment from the van on the table in front of him, but when Zoe instinctively went to collect it, Violet stopped her.
“Tell me the whole story,” she said to Zoe. “Everything.”
“When I was down in the flat the secretary couldn’t get her phone to connect to the network,” said Zoe, and ran her hand through her hair, moving it out of her eyes. “I mentioned in passing that I might be able to get it working. I may even have implied that I was a bit of an expert...”
Lucas laughed, “Did you mislead that poor, unsuspecting woman?”
“I may have.” Zoe gave an exaggerated flutter of her eyelashes, the picture of innocence. “So anyway, I cloned her phone. Then I connected it to the network, of course. Took about thirty seconds. All I did was–”
“You cloned her phone?” Barry interrupted. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Zoe looked at him for a second, weighing up the question. Trying to work out whether he was trying to undermine her or actually didn’t know. She decided to go for the latter.
“Essentially what you do is you make a kind of digital copy of her phone,” said Zoe. “A clone. And once you’ve done that, any call that phone makes, any it receives, any data that goes in and out... You can access it all.”
“And you can do this with any phone?” asked Barry, taking his own phone out of his pocket and eyeing it suspiciously.