*****
“What the fuck’s going on, Mark?” spits Jason, as soon as we’re outside.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Fuck’s sake, you know what I mean. She didn’t mention anything about anything valuable, she had no idea about millions, and she sure as hell wasn’t lying.” He jabs his finger into my chest. “You better not be sending us on some wild fucking goose chase here, Mark. If you’ve fucked me around so far, fine, but you better level with me now.”
The space between us seems to grow smaller. I wonder, again, about the woman at the funeral, about her eyes, the faraway, distracted look.
“Well?” asks Jason into the silence.
I sigh. Maybe I better tell him I’m John Paris, maybe now he’s seen what happened, maybe he’ll believe me and cut me some slack. But then maybe he’ll hand me over to the General and his scientific person, Sara what’s her name. And she’ll go butchering me with some needles or something, and they’ll cut my dick off to try and find out how I work, and then where will I be. No dick, no tattoo. How will I ever be able to face up to people in a pub again. So I decide against telling him the truth.
“I don’t know what to say, Jason. She said he had something valuable. And that he was going to talk to Martin about it. That’s what she told me. Maybe she’s got a bit confused, you saw how much she drinks…” I shrug, and Jason fixes me with a stare, keeping it there a while, like he’s trying to decide whether to believe me. I put on my most believable expression, at least I think I do, and I cross my fingers behind my back.
Jason reaches towards his back, and, from God knows where, takes out a long knife, the blade must be close to a foot, and holds it out in front of him. He slowly runs his left index finger up and down the blade, studying it carefully.
“All right, Mark” he says, eventually. “All right. I’ll keep with you for now. But God help you if you’re double crossing me. I’ve done a lot for you over the years. I know we go back, God knows I do, but something here doesn’t feel quite right. You’re acting strange, you have done for the past week or so, you’re not yourself, you’re not normal. And in my book, when someone does that, it’s because they’ve got something to hide. And I don’t like secrets.”
I gulp involuntarily and hope that Jason doesn’t notice. He’s not looking at me, he’s still looking at the blade, and my eyes are drawn to it, to the fine river of blood flowing from his finger down the blade and onto the handle, where it drops, silently and slowly, to the pavement.
“I’m telling you the truth, Jason” I say, my voice trembling. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t betray you.” Jason looks up at me, and puts the knife away. “Fine. All right. I’ll believe you. Just…” and he peters off, looking absently at his cut finger.
“Are we going to go and see Jelfs? He lives just over there.” I’m not sure if I’m more nervous or excited about seeing this guy, seeing if he’s the guy who attacked me, seeing if he can shed any light over why I died.
“No, not yet.” Jason shakes his head. If this guy’s a vicious bastard, if he’s the guy who attacked you, then we should come for him at night.” He looks at his watch. “Right. Four pm. It’ll get dark in about three hours. Anything you want to do in the meantime?”
“I could get that tattoo done?” I ask.
“Bad idea. You’ll be in pain for at least a day after. Need you focused on this.”
“We could go for a drink?” I ask, hopefully. He gives me a look. “All right,” he says, “I have an idea. Let me call my guy. Your lawyer. He’s lined up for tomorrow, he was going to meet you at seven to do the pre-briefing but let me see if he can do it now. Hang on.” He fishes his phone out of his back pocket (must be a hell of a back pocket, I need to see if I can get some jeans like that) and dials a number. “Hello? Hi, yeah, it’s me again. Listen, we have a couple of hours now. Do you think you could… yeah, perfect. Great. All right. Brilliant. Thanks. Yeah, I know it. I’ll get him over to you. There in about twenty minutes.”
He turns to me. “Right. Good news, it’s sorted. The guy’s name is Rob. Rob Shady. One hell of a lawyer. Helped me out in some of my contracts, with some of my clients. We kind of work together as a team. I sort out the difficult things, he… well, never mind. Anyway, he’s serious. You listen to him, you do exactly as he says, and this will be fine. Understand?” But he doesn’t wait to answer, starts walking over to his car, and I run after him.
Kings of the Night Page 32