The Dali Deception

by Adam Maxwell

  He grabbed the bag and headed out of the van.

  *

  Lucas had made it off the gaming floor before the Baldonis intercepted him. He wasn’t hugely keen on Zoe’s plan; there was something in his criminal make-up that made handing over huge sums of money and getting nothing in return something that he was ill-equipped to deal with.

  He knew what it was. It made him feel like a mark. And he didn’t like that one little bit. But as he turned the corner into the deserted entrance corridor he knew he had to do it. Also, there was the voice in his head. Zoe’s voice. Telling him he had to do it.

  Barry came into view, pretending to jog the last few paces. Lucas immediately dipped onto one knee and, emptying his pockets, placed £50,000 into the bag.

  Barry slapped him on the shoulder then zipped the bag and strode off down the corridor toward the floor of the casino. Lucas reached into his inside pocket and rifled the edges of the last wad of notes. Ten thousand. He’d earned that much. At least.

  *

  “Fuck me, you’ve got some balls, son.”

  The Baldoni brothers had been chasing Lucas out of the casino, but came to an abrupt halt when faced with the spectre of Barry looming onto the gaming floor. The brothers stared at Barry; the shorter of the two rubbed his overhanging belly and panted with the exertion.

  “I’ve got your money,” said Barry, deciding to open with that fact in the hope that none of the horrendous additional scenarios he had conjured in his mind would come to pass.

  “And the vig?” panted the shorter Baldoni.

  “The what?” Barry and the taller Baldoni chorused.

  “You know – the vig?” the shorter Baldoni repeated.

  Barry looked to his taller brother, who shrugged in response.

  “The vig. The vigorish. The juice. The interest.”

  “Fuck’s sake, Chris, you’ve read two books and you think you’re Chili Palmer. You can’t talk like that in Kilchester, it just makes you look like a cunt.”

  The pair looked at Barry, who shrugged. Definitely not getting involved in that one. “I’ve got the money. With interest.”

  “How much?” snapped little-Baldoni.

  “How much?” asked Barry, suddenly realising he had no idea. He put his finger in his ear. “How much money do I have in the bag? Well, that’s a good question.”

  “How much is in the bag?” Zoe’s voice boomed in Barry’s ear. He flinched. The Baldoni brothers stared at Barry. “Lucas, how much is in the bag? Fifty. Fifty grand.”

  Barry’s eyes widened and he allowed himself a little smile.

  “Fifty grand,” he said and held out the bag.

  “That’ll do.” Little-Baldoni grabbed the bag and started rooting around inside. He pulled out the bundles of cash and flicked through them.

  “Satisfied?” asked large-Baldoni.

  Little-Baldoni nodded.

  “Want the stuff we took from you?” asked large-Baldoni.

  “Nah, couple of autographs. Worthless. And the computer thing didn’t even work – belongs to my sister and my nephew. Keep ’em. There is one thing…” Barry trailed off.

  Large-Baldoni jerked his head back in a half-nod, questioning.

  “You could try not to kill me again. That’d be grand.”

  “Then we’re done, Barry,” said large-Baldoni, nodding as he did so. “Unless you fancy a few rounds of roulette before you go?”

  Barry looked over the tables and was about to answer when the voice boomed in his ear.

  “The answer you’re looking for is ‘no’, in case you’re wondering, Barry,” Zoe said.

  “Better not,” Barry said to the Baldoni brothers. “Been a pleasure doing business with you fellas.”

  “See you on the flip side,” said little-Baldoni.

  Chapter 38

  It didn’t take long for the five members of the crew to extricate themselves from the floating death trap that was the Princess Casino. Lucas jumped in the back of the van, and the second he closed the door Zoe called shotgun. When Barry returned he drove the three of them to the meeting point in a booth at the back of the Crow and Crown pub.

  In spite of Katie’s fidgeting, foot-tapping and constant pacing up and down, Violet had stuck with the safe.

  “It took me five minutes,” she explained.

  Katie tapped one of her long index fingers on the wooden table.

  “It took me nine minutes,” Violet said, a tiny bit of the enthusiasm ebbing from her voice.

  “I don’t understand,” said Zoe. “Why is that a bad thing. Isn’t nine minutes to crack a safe practically Guinness Book of Records territory?”

  “It’s a bad thing,” Lucas interrupted, “because Violet is terribly, terribly vain...”

  The crew all laughed – except Violet.

  “Listen, do you want to hear the rest of this story or not?” she said, pouting.

  “I think I want you to go back to the part where Katie tore the place to shreds like some sort of shaved Wookiee on a murder spree,” said Barry, reaching over and squeezing Katie’s bicep.

  Katie drew herself away from him and cracked her knuckles

  “Whoah, there,” said Barry with a smile. “That is one of the most impressive feats I’ve ever witnessed. I am in awe!”

  Katie smiled and shook her head.

  “So the safe...” said Violet monotonously. “I was picking the lock remember?”

  “I hear it took over ten minutes,” said Zoe. “How long did it take Katie to clear the room?”

  “Less than thirty seconds.” Barry did a mock salute.

  “Well, piss off, then. I’m not telling you if you’re going to be like that.” Violet pushed out her lower lip and looked out the window.

  “Oh come on,” said Lucas. “Let her tell her story. She listened to my counting cards bit so it’s only fair.”

  There were groans from the others.

  “So I got into the safe in nine minutes,” said Violet. “And wasn’t that surprised to find that the thing was full of cash, casino chips and various important looking papery-contracty type things.”

  “So you filled your pockets and you’re going to share the spoils with us all now?” asked Lucas.

  “Hardly,” replied Violet. “The chips were still factory-fresh. Plastic-wrapped.”

  Lucas shrugged, the cogs in his brain turning, trying to work out what she would do in a situation like that. He knew what he would do, but Violet was so different in her approach. After the job she’d just orchestrated he was beginning to think she may have a touch of genius about her. At the very least she seemed able to pull a golden egg from a bag of turds.

  “Opened them up,” Violet continued. “Shoved some in the pockets of all those lovely, welcoming security guards that Katie had so kindly left sprinkled around on the floor...”

  “Like a bloody pile of hundreds and thousands?” Zoe laughed, and took a swig of her drink.

  “So when the Baldoni brothers get to the office they’ll find the safe open and the chips in the guards’ pockets,” said Lucas, finally joining the dots.

  “Exactly!” said Violet, banging her hand on the table. “I mean, whether they’ll actually get blamed for anything –”

  “Because when they wake up…” Lucas was staring into the middle distance, concentrating. If he’d had a pad and paper he would have been making notes. “Their story will be ‘We grabbed two women. One of them was a giant and the other one was a ninja. They beat us senseless and then left without stealing anything.’”

  Violet clicked her fingers and pointed at Lucas. “At the very least we muddy the waters.”

  “But what about the security footage?” asked Barry, certain he’d found a chink in the armour. “You said it wasn’t digital, didn’t you, Zoe, so doesn’t that mean you can’t – you know – delete it or whatever?”

  Katie reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew a VHS video cassette.

  Zoe grinned. “With the help of my beautiful
assistant we retrieved the tape in... oooh... let’s be kind and say ‘under five minutes’.”

  Violet sat back in her chair, picked up her vodka and coke and took a swig. She had assembled a fine crew. Of course, she’d had her reservations about some of them, that was inevitable. A find like Katie was...if it wasn’t one in a million it was one in a couple of hundred thousand. Everyone came with baggage, that was true, whoever you worked with. But today she had watched the wheels spin off and the plan crash into the wall – and in spite of that, they had won. In fact, this didn’t just feel like they’d won, it felt as though they were ready for the real job.

  Taking another slug of her drink then flicking it with her index finger, Violet tried to bring the crew back to order for a moment.

  “Can I say,” she said, “you were all magnificent today. It has been an absolute pleasure seeing you all do your thing and...”

  The rest of what Violet had to say was lost in the cheering and catcalling that ensued. She gave up and waved over to the waitress for another round. This was going to be a long night and she intended to get very, very drunk indeed.

  *

  Three hours later and the crew were, to all intents and purposes, completely shit-faced. The first hour had consisted of what could generously be called playful banter, but had rapidly descended into the four speaking members of the crew putting the world to rights.

  Katie had sat, stoically observing the proceedings whilst knocking back single-malt whiskies, while Violet, Zoe, Lucas and Barry had engaged in some sort of punishing alcohol-based endurance test.

  Zoe was the youngest and, as such, it wasn’t a huge surprise that she was the first one to fall. First her head had started to nod, then she was propping it up with her palm, and finally she just crossed her arms on the table and used them as a pillow.

  Lucas and Barry had got to the point where they were arguing with each other – but both of them were arguing the same side of the argument. Violet, who was something of a happy drunk, had just left the conversation at the end of the second hour and was happy to sip and watch the world go by.

  Eventually last orders were called at the bar and four of them left on foot; Violet on her own, Lucas and Barry with their arms slung around one another’s neck, as much for support as for the friendship quotient, and Zoe... well Katie had picked Zoe up and slung her over her shoulder. Zoe had hardly noticed, her light snoring occasionally peppered with the odd bout of gibberish.

  “Need a lift?” Barry asked no-one in particular. He fished his keys out of his pocket and spun them around his index finger.

  “There is no way you are dr–” Violet began, but stopped short as the keys flew off Barry’s finger.

  Barry darted forward to retrieve them, instantly lost his balance and landed inelegantly on all fours on the tarmac of the car park.

  Violet sniggered and Barry crawled forward, squinting at the keys through the fog of drink. He reached his hand out to pick them up but a booted foot stamped down on them.

  “Hello, boys and girls,” said a voice. “Having a lovely little piss up are we?”

  Barry’s gaze snaked up the boot to the trouser leg to the suit jacket. It didn’t take as long as he expected. About half the time it would usually take, in fact. Barry dropped his gaze back to the keys under the boot and blinked before trying a second time. This time, when he reached eye level with the person his head lolled back and he frowned.

  “What the fuck are you staring at, you little piss-pot?” asked the person.

  Barry reached up and scratched his forehead. His brain was trying to send him a message and the alcohol was stopping it from getting through.

  “Err,” was all he could manage.

  “Err?” the person sneered. “Fucking err? Jesus Christ, are you lot a bunch of fucking robbers or a bunch of donkey wankers?”

  The person took his foot from the keys and hopped forward, landing his weight on Barry’s left hand.

  Barry howled in pain.

  “It wasn’t me!” said Zoe, snapping into consciousness but muffled by the back of Katie’s coat.

  “Big Terry,” said Violet in a dull monotone. “It’s been too long.”

  Big Terry nodded toward Violet and stepped off Barry’s hand. “Violet,” Big Terry nodded in acknowledgement. “So this is your crew then?”

  Violet nodded slowly. “So it would seem.”

  Katie had begun to lower Zoe to her feet and Lucas was helping to keep her upright. Zoe, in turn, was trying to keep her head level and burping in a way that seemed to indicate she might very well vomit at any moment.

  “What a pathetic bunch of sloppy shites they are,” Big Terry laughed, his gaze flicking across the five of them.

  Katie drew herself up to her full height and began slowly to move in the direction of Big Terry.

  “I see your golem is in attack mode,” said Big Terry with a laugh like a punch in the gut. “Call her off before she gets someone killed.”

  Katie continued to advance until Violet whispered her name.

  “It says a lot about the fucking rock rattling around in that bulbous head of yours, knuckles,” Big Terry continued, “that you believe I would put myself in a situation where I couldn’t deal with you or any of these dirty little wank-stains.”

  “Terry,” said Violet.

  “Big Terry,” Big Terry corrected.

  “Big Terry,” Violet continued. “We’re all friends here, Katie just didn’t recognise you, that’s all. We’ve had a skin full tonight, listen can we catch up tomorrow when–”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Sorry?” Violet frowned, staring down at the angry little bastard. The adrenaline was rushing through her now, sobering her to a degree, but she couldn’t for the life of her work out why Big Terry would be pissed off at them.

  “Sorry’s a good start,” said Big Terry. “Your little crew have made me look like a cunt and, to be frank, my dear, I’m not a man who’s fond of looking like a cunt.”

  “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding, Big Terry.” Violet tried to take the psycho off the boil but she could see he was working himself up even without any input from her.

  “Shut up. I don’t want to hurt you but I will if you make me,” he sighed. “Do you remember an X-ray you lot sold? Marilyn Monroe?”

  Violet nodded. No point in denying it, no point in explaining who was or wasn’t involved. Take your medicine. Big Terry would have men positioned around the car park. If they had been sober maybe they could have controlled the situation, but...

  “Who’s that little boy?” Zoe slurred from behind Violet, but was quickly shushed by Lucas.

  “So those two suits...” Violet began.

  “Belong to me. You conned them so, by inference, you conned me.” Big Terry had begun pacing up and down in front of the crew and kept absently tapping at a bulge in his jacket pocket. “Well, only one of them belongs to me now. I had to let the other go.”

  He stopped pacing.

  “I’m implying I killed him,” said Big Terry.

  “Yeah, I got that part,” said Violet.

  “Took quite a bit of research to track you all down. You’ve been busy little bastards, haven’t you? Planning your little plans. I even spoke to Fegan,” he continued. “Your loyal fence.”

  Violet felt sick. It felt like there was a jigsaw in the bottom of her stomach and Big Terry was systematically removing every piece.

  “Everyone has a limit, though, don’t they? Fegan’s limit was his little finger. Snapped it like a twig.” Big Terry barked a pretend laugh. “He cried like the fucking pussy he is. But he spilled the beans. Spilled them all over the table. I let him keep his other nine fingers cos I’m generous.”

  Violet nodded again. All that was left of the jigsaw were the pieces around the edges.

  “And I’m feeling generous tonight.” Big Terry clapped his little hands together and walked to Katie’s feet. The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds, but
Katie didn’t make a move, knowing what was coming. “So I’m going to give you a choice. This job is a big old score for you lucky fuckers, isn’t it? Set you up in the good life for a while?”

  Big Terry stepped away from Katie, circling back to Violet. “Course it is. Small time wankers the lot of you. But I can see talent. I can fucking smell it. So you can do the job for me and, like I say, I’m a generous fucker so I’ll give you... I dunno... ten per cent of what Fegan was going to give you.”

  Barry began to protest but Violet cut him down.

  “Go on,” she said. “We’re listening.”

  And so Big Terry laid it out. They owed him for the X-rays. They owed him for what he called the ‘emotional damage’ he had suffered. All they had to do was do what they were already doing. Only instead of delivering it to Fegan – who had bankrolled the whole thing and was promising them a ton of money – they would need to hand the painting over to Big Terry.

  Of course, Violet knew he was never going to let it be as simple as that. And as Big Terry paced and talked she felt the last of the pieces of the jigsaw fall away inside of her until all that were left were the four corner pieces. Fegan hadn’t deserved this. They had brought this on him and now – they owed him...and Big Terry...

  Big Terry underlined where their priorities lay when he described to them what a drawn out and unspeakably painful death each of them would have to endure if they chose not to do exactly as they were told.

  “So what’s your choice, then?” asked Big Terry finally.

  “We’ll do the job for you,” said Violet firmly. “Then we’re even?”

  Big Terry thought about this for a second. “Yes. I don’t care if all of you get arrested or shot or maimed. As long as someone hands me that painting, I will give them the money. Then, and only then, we’re even.”

  Violet nodded.

  “Good,” said Big Terry. “I like art. Proper fucking collector me.”

  He started walking away. “I’ll be watching you until the job’s done too, you slippery twats. And don’t forget, no second chances. I’ll probably start by cutting the young girl’s nose off. Bet she’s a screamer.”