‘You’re not shining a light on my day either,’ Ben growled.
‘That’s funny, Ben. My old sergeant isn’t happy either. You lost him a large sum of money.’
‘That fat twat left me to die in a burning building, so get him to join the queue for the bag. Just behind Peg Leg here, eh?’
Peg Leg stepped up to the plate and slapped Ben across the face. He slipped off the chair and chose to remain seated on the floor. ‘You aren’t in a position to be lecturing us, Street Boy.’
‘Nor are you, you sad prick. Why are you still grieving over the bag? You do understand the bag was never your inheritance. There was no will suggesting you should be clutching it to your chest. You’re lucky you didn’t go to prison for that bag and you’re dead lucky, according to Tommy the Car, to be alive.’
‘Can’t shoot for shit, can he?’
‘There’s a lot Tommy can’t do and killing is beyond his pay grade.’
‘I haven’t finished with that boy and I’m disappointed with Claudia. The order was quite clear. I’m not used to be being disobeyed, not when the stakes are so high.’
‘Tommy’s busy cleaning up another mess. Don’t you go near him.’
‘He’s a dead man. He will pay for the lead he planted in my gut, so I suggest you keep out of the way.’
Peg Leg knocked the muzzle of his rifle against his leg. Ben focused on his leg, watching the gun tapping against the metal. Ben’s head throbbed with the rhythm.
‘What you looking at?’ Peg Leg snarled. ‘You ain’t seen a man who’s been to war?’
Wynona crept to the desk. Ben smiled at the sight of her shadow. He eased across the floor, pushing his arse away from the men toward the light and ring of umbrellas.
‘That’s it, Street Boy. Dead center in the bubble wrap, cuz we don’t want to be getting any blood on the floor.’
Peg Leg straightened his trousers and tightened the tuck of his shirt back into his belt. Barney stepped back beside him, the two men squinting into the spot light.
‘What did you do with the bag?’ asked Peg Leg
‘The bag, the bag, and more about the damn bag,’ Ben said. ‘It was full of body parts. It was Marvin’s dad’s body. This is old news. You killed Marvin for his dad’s hacked up body. This has nowt to do with Lucas or why we’re here. You do have the boy, don’t you?’
‘The boy’s safe and he’s none of your concern.’
‘Yeah, but there’s a mother who needs to hold him.’
‘Well that’s not an issue for you and me, now is it? There were two bags.’
‘The bags are gone. One went to the incinerator. The other bag, the one with the books and cash went to the Projects. You need to talk to Jackie John or just move on. Serious, you’ve developed an obsession with this bag. Now let’s talk about the child. I need to know where he is.’
‘So you can get the reward? So you can take Max’s money? Always after the cash, aren’t you, Street Boy? Like that tart you hang out with.’
‘Which tart?’
‘The girl who has a wolf for a pet. You might know her, Private Baker. She hangs about with a load of children, robbing houses so these kids can buy drugs.’
‘Easy, Peg Leg,’ Ben said. ‘You don’t want to be talking about Wolf Girl to Barney.’
‘Who are you talking about?’ Barney said. ‘Why should I know her?’
Wynona realized she needed to act or Barney had to die. As Peg Leg smiled, holding out on his secret, she called out and flicked the switch as they turned to her voice. Three umbrella flashes exploded, the room hit by a bolt of lightning. Wynona jumped from the desk with her baton raised. She hit Barney across the back of the head and caught him as he fell. From the floor, Ben swept Peg Leg with his legs and brought him down in an awkward heap. He grabbed Peg Leg’s weapon and shoved the muzzle into Peg Leg’s neck. Wynona swung hard with her baton and introduced black to his day. Ben kicked out from under his body and jumped to his feet.
‘Good work, old girl,’ Ben said.
‘A bit less of the old, thank you, but this is a job half done.’ She looked at the comatose body lying crumpled by the white screen. ‘We needed him conscious really, didn’t we?’
‘He’ll be cool. What are you going to do with Barney?’
‘I don’t know, but I can’t have him placing me here. Peg Leg’s almost given me away.’
‘There’s a boat out back,’ Ben said. ‘I saw it earlier. Why don’t we chuck him in that and set him adrift. He’ll wake up and work out what he needs to do. He’s ex-army, eh?’
‘That’s funny. I bet he can’t swim.’
They carried the man to the back of the property and dumped him in the small boat. Ben untied the rope and pushed the dinghy into the fast flowing current.’
Ben, Wynona, and Wolf stood on the jetty waving farewell.
‘I need to find Claudia and get my money,’ Ben said. ‘Girl back, child somewhere round here, job done.’
‘I’ll sort out Peg Leg.’
Ben took to the first floor and Wynona ran for the studio. The chair lay on its side in a pool of light. The bubble wrap covered the floor, but Peg Leg had left the room. She retreated, her gun in hand and closed the door. Ben had a gun, she hoped, but she pulled her phone and texted Peg Leg escaped.
Wolf followed her into the room to the left of the staircase. In the darkness, a large reflective white screen covered the wall opposite the door. Wynona kept to the edge of the room with her torch in hand. She waited for a sound, a breath before allowing the beam to light the room. Long, deep red curtains fell from wrought iron poles with dull brass rings. A white leather sofa sat facing the screen with two comfy beige armchairs on either side. Small drinks tables, ashtrays and drink coasters, accompanied the furniture. A wall of shelves opposite the dark curtains were cluttered with DVD cases. She picked up a white case, blank except for serial numbers handwritten across the bottom edges.
She retraced her steps, listening at the bottom of the stairs and ran for the room opposite. Another red curtain covered the bay window. Battered metal lockers lined the wall opposite the window. Two plastic chairs sat against the walls with a full-length wall mirror opposite the door. Children’s clothes, sailor suits, princess dresses lay draped on every available shelf. Ashtrays, overflowing, sat on the long plastic table sitting in the middle of the room.
But she found no sign of Peg Leg.
A scream sounded. Wynona flicked off the light and retreated into the foyer. Children cascaded to the bottom of the wide, curling staircase. Two nurse types followed, grabbed at her arms and pointed to the staircase. No one spoke the King’s English.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Man with the Gun
Ben stood behind Claudia looking into a darkened room with a single candle flickering on a bedside table. Carved ebony wardrobes lined the wall to the right of the old, four-poster bed that filled the space before them. Dark red curtains covered long double windows. Disinfectant and eucalyptus tainted the scent of sweat and years of ingrained body odor.
Max sat propped high by a pile of pillows and covered in a field of rumpled covers. He held the sheet to his chin, his pale face shimmering in the wan light. Beads of perspiration covered his face. He hadn’t shaved in an age and the black bristles stood in clumps on his chin and cheeks. The thin, white strands of hair stood out at all angles from his naked crown.
A shot sounded loud in the room and plaster fell from the ceiling. Claudia remained at the door, Ben at her shoulder, the gun pointing at Max’s head preventing her from entering the room.
‘One more move, and I’ll blow his head off.’ Smoke curled from the muzzle, the explosive scent struggling against the sour odor of decay. The gun shook in his hand and perspiration fell into his eyes, causing him to squint.
‘Do I look like I care?’ Claudia said. ‘The man’s half-dead. You’d be doing us all a favor.’
Max offered a ponderous blink and Claudia provided a brief smile. She tu
rned her attention to the man with the gun. He changed his grip and the gun jerked. Max and Claudia flinched.
Ben eased to the side of the room, his hands in the air. Claudia followed, stopping by the ornate wardrobe. Ben nodded to the man with the gun. He recognized the sodden creature, remembered him arriving at the Old Poet begging for a beer and a cigarette. He’d looked bad that night, but nothing matched his present appearance. Perspiration dripped from his chin and beaded his cheeks and forehead. His thin hair clung to his scalp and his puffy eyes were ready to pop out of his sockets.
‘You and Max have issues, I’m guessing,’ said Claudia. ‘It’s nothing to do with me, but I do need to know where my child is.’
She focused on Max and twice he opened his mouth, but only to breathe. He turned to the oxygen bottle, a feeble hand, a long bony finger pointing at the tap. Claudia stepped closer to Max, watching the man with the gun.
‘I’ll kill him,’ the man cried. ‘I will. I’ll kill the fucker.’
‘Why?’ she said, her step toward the oxygen bottle slowing. ‘Why do you want to kill him?’
Again he changed his grip and Claudia stopped moving. The man’s clothing leaked sweat and the gun kept slipping in his grip. Perspiration ran down his face. ‘Because he owes me for work I did.’
Max spoke with a strained croak. ‘You didn’t complete job. You’re incapable of wiping your own snot from your face. Like I was ever going to pay you for the shit effort you put in.’
Both Claudia and the gunman stopped at the sound of Max’s voice. ‘I told you where she was. You said find her and I did. I need that money. You’ve got shed loads, just give me some.’
‘No.’
‘How many people you got looking for me, father?’
‘I have a right to see the child.’
‘You didn’t seem bothered before so why the rush now?’
‘Because I’m dying.’
Silence greeted his statement. The gun dropped and Claudia’s hands fell to her sides as her shoulders slumped.
‘I want to hold the child.’
‘Why didn’t you say?’ Claudia had spent years hating the man and fearing his attempts to control her child. But hearing his words produced feelings of relief and regret. ‘Maybe if you’d asked I could’ve given you a moment. You never showed love for Lucas because you were too busy trying to control him. So where is he?’
‘Shut the fuck up you two,’ the man said. ‘If you’re dying, then you don’t need money where you’re going.’ He looked to Claudia for back up. The gun returned to threaten Max. ‘But I need it here and now.’
Ben stepped forward and Max noticed him, his head turning in slow motion, the boggle eyes staring at Ben. ‘Hello, Max.’
‘Street Boy,’ he said. ‘I thought you were dead. Haven’t seen my manservant about have you?’
Ben turned to the gunman. ‘Hello, you.’
‘I don’t know you,’ he said. ‘Why you talking to me like we friends? We aren’t friends. I never seen you before.’
Ben smiled, remembering the night he’d served the man a beer and allowed him to use the bathroom to clean up. He’d changed his shirt to a black, short-sleeved number, but it was made for an Ivan-sized body. The faded Old Poet logo sagged on his left tit.
‘Don’t you smile at me,’ he said. ‘Why are you smiling? I don’t know you. Why are you all smiling at me? Just give me my money.’ His voice and body shook. The gun waved about the room like the head of a demented snake, desperate to strike.
Ben stood at the foot of the bed, holding the carved wooden bed end. He held the man’s gaze and showed his hands, hoping the man saw that as a sign of peace.
Max’s breathing quickened, shallow gulps of air struggling to inflate his chest. His pale face excreted droplets that clung to the bristles on his cheeks. Ben smiled at Max.
‘You got my money?’ Ben said. ‘Only I got to get going. I don’t know what this nutter wants from you, but I’m here to collect. You asked me to bring your daughter back and I have. I make that a good handful of shekels and a fistful of doubloons you owe me.’
‘Stand in line, you fuck. I’m holding the shooter.’ The man waved the gun in a wide arc, pointing and repointing at the three targets. ‘You don’t get to ask and you don’t get paid before me.’
‘Put the bloody gun down. You aren’t going to use it,’ Ben said.
‘Says bloody who?’ The gun trembled in his grasp. Again he adjusted his grip, looking down at the weapon to make sure his finger remained on the trigger.
Ben smiled as he stepped away from the bed. He pulled up a chair with a striped, cushioned seat and sat down. He turned to Claudia. ‘Why don’t you give your old man a hug? And then ask him where he’s hidden Lucas.’
‘You’re mad?’ the man said. The gun dodged and weaved as he tried to maintain his control. ‘This is a gun, full of bullets and held by angry man needing to be paid.’
‘Yeah, but I’ve met you before, haven’t I? You were the dude come to the pub the other day all beaten up. You were pathetic, bleating on about how you got the raw end of some deal. No bloody payment, no bloody justice, and you were desperate for the drink, eh? You really needed the drink. My guess is you really need a fix now, don’t you. You got that look a junkie gets when he’s stretched taut and ready to snap.’
‘So I needed a drink. I’d just been beaten up by this man’s monkey. You’d want a drink, too. His monkey threw me in the bloody river. They tried to drown me for fuck’s sake. Yeah, I was angry. I’m still bloody angry. This man owes me. This is payday for me. I’ve dreamt of this day.’
‘See, and now you’re feeling a need to justify your addiction.’
‘I’m not addicted. Who said I was addicted. Jesus. A man goes into a pub. It doesn’t mean he’s got a bloody problem. It don’t mean he needs his bloody mother hassling him.’
‘But you do. So why don’t you put the gun down, take a seat and let’s see if we can get this girl reunited with her child? That’s the important issue here in this room. Who cares about your addiction?’
The gun pointed at Ben. The man’s hand wobbled, the muzzle of the gun jerking and circling. The whites of his large eyes stared. He took a hand from the gun and scratched at his face. A moldy looking tongue licked at cracked lips as he gulped at air. He changed hands again fidgeting before both hands took hold of the heavy weapon. The gun dropped to his side as he took a step away from Max. He sighed and his shoulders collapsed as he fell back against the wall.
Claudia stepped forward. ‘All right,’ the gunman said. ‘She can come, but you got to stay where you are.’
Ben remained seated as Claudia attended to her father’s oxygen. She helped him place the mask over his face, the hiss of the air offering the slightest tinge of color to his face. Claudia sat on the bed and took his hand in hers and wiped the perspiration from his face. ‘Where is he, Dad?’
Max gaped like a fish plucked from the sea. He couldn’t speak. He could hardly breathe.
‘You seen a child?’ Ben said to the gunman. ‘He’s a small kid with sandy hair around about eight years old?’
‘There’s a load of children downstairs,’ he said.
‘Yeah, he isn’t one of them. Is there anywhere else in this house to hide a child?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t live here.’
‘But did you see the child Peg Leg brought with him?’
‘Who the fuck is Peg Leg? Why you asking me all these bloody questions? Get me my money he owes me.’
The gun jumped up and pointed at Max.
‘Listen, you need to calm down. We got coppers coming here to throw your arse in jail. You killed my boss and what you did to old Charlie wasn’t right, eh? So shut up.’
‘No.’ The man stared at Ben and shook his head.
‘Didn’t you? You’re wearing his shirt and that’s Ivan’s gun.’
The man gaped and saliva spilt from his mouth. ‘No… No… No. That’s not right.’ He looked a
t Claudia for support. ‘No, I wouldn’t…’
Ben waved his protestation away with his hand. ‘Peg Leg can’t have got here much before us,’ he said to Claudia.
‘So.’
‘Well, he’s…’ Ben turned to the man with the gun. ‘How long you been here?’ He didn’t hear the question. ‘An hour? Two hours?’
‘What you talking about?’ he said. The gun pointed at the floor. His posture bent as he spoke. ‘Why are you asking the questions? Who cares how long I been here. Man, I just want my money and this is the only room I haven’t searched. There must be money in here somewhere.’
‘Who cares about him?’ Claudia said.
‘I’m just saying,’ Ben said to Claudia. ‘We need to be questioning Peg Leg, not your old man. I don’t think he’s handed over the child. My guess is he was waiting for Barney to turn up.’
‘So where’s Peg Leg?’
‘We’ve got him stashed downstairs.’
‘Really?’ The new voice came from the doorway.
Ben didn’t want to turn around. He knew the voice and he was sure it held a gun. Before Ben could confirm Peg Leg’s entry into the room the man sporting Ivan’s shirt raised his gun and shot.
A loud retort exploded behind Ben’s ear as Ben saw the man’s gun jump, a flash, and Ben rolled to the floor with his hands to his ears.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Three Soldiers, One Boy
Ben appeared at the top of the staircase. Wynona ran from the front room.
‘I’ve lost Peg Leg,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry. We’ve found him,’ Ben said. ‘He’s dead. This time for sure, eh? We still haven’t found Lucas, but we got two idiots with guns up here, trying to reenact a quick draw. One of them is the author of the massacre at the Poet. A damn junkie takes out Ivan. Who’d have put money on the drink not doing it? I don’t think Max is going to last the night.’
Claudia appeared at the door. ‘Call an ambulance. Please, he’s dying.’
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