Incompetence

by Rob Grant

  'Now, you are. But for how long? Twenty years down the line, it'll be different. Thirty, forty years on? A century? How long did it take Texas to feel part of the United States? There's still a good bunch of Texicans who'd polish up their muskets, put on their old grey Johnny Reb uniforms and happily march into Washington whistling 'Dixie' if they got half a chance. One day, Europe will click. It'll see sense. It'll see the power in unification. It will happen. It's inevitable.'

  'Unless you can stop it? Is that what you're saying?'

  'Like I said: I'm just running interference, Harry. Doing what I can to keep you off balance. I can do no more.'

  'Rip Van Winkle. That was good. The American sleeper. Ha ha ha. You liked to leave me little clues, didn't you, Dick? You enjoyed screwing with my head. Johnny Appleseed. Spreading your Yankee poison all over the land. Harry Lime, faking his own death.'

  'Terry Lennox, too. The Long Goodbye. You missed that one, didn't you?'

  'It goes back a long way, doesn't it? Right back to the start in fact. You had this planned even before you met me.'

  'You were always going to be the biggest threat to my operation, Harry. I knew it would come, sooner or later. You started thinking about sniffing around the Fabrizi thing, remember? I had to get you first. The truth is: you were a little slow about the whole business. You were supposed to bring the others along. I could have chewed up the whole network one man at a time. That was the whole point of it all. But you didn't follow procedure, Harry. Did you think you were ever in control of the situation? You must have known you'd been made. I could have rolled you over at any time and pissed in your ear, boy. But you didn't call in the cavalry, like you were supposed to. That was a personal disappointment to me, Harry. I thought I trained you better. You always were a stickler for procedure. What changed?'

  'Part of me guessed that's what you wanted. Not you, I mean, I didn't know you were you at that point. But I thought that's what Johnny Appleseed was after.'

  'Well, I'm still after it, Harry. It's still what I want. And I'm going to get it.'

  We'd reached the end of the chamber. We walked through another gawping mouth and got another evil laugh.

  Ho ho ho.

  We stepped onto another walkway. There was a rank of carriages on a track, some kind of ride.

  I turned to face Klingferm. 'We're going on a trip?'

  He grinned. 'A little pleasure trip, sure. Firstly, though, I think you've got Wolfie's gun and his blade.'

  'It's not much of a gun.'

  'No, but it's a lot of a knife. I think we'd all have a more comfortable ride if we left them behind, don't you?'

  I shrugged. Did he really not know about the stun stick? I fished out the little pistol, holding its barrel between my thumb and forefinger, with my pinkie out, too, and set it on the ground. While I was down there, I drew the stiletto out of my sock and laid it down beside the gun. I backed away from them and climbed into the fun wagon.

  'In the front, Harry. You'll get a better view.'

  I climbed over the seats to the front of the car. Did he really, really not know about the stun stick? He'd never allow himself to get close enough to pat me down. He knew what I could do from that range.

  Klingferm started towards me. 'You disappointed us, you know, your little country. We always had it in mind you'd jump into our boat.'

  'Are you kidding? Become the fifty-third state?'

  'Why not? There were backroom talks about it. Serious talks.'

  'Britain become an American state? That was never going to happen, my friend. That's somebody's crazy pipe dream.'

  He stooped, picked up the gun and the knife and climbed elegantly into the back of the car. He was a metre and a half, maybe two, behind me. 'Why's that? Because you guys never shall be slaves? Is that it? Get real: you're a nation of serial slavery. The sad historical fact is that your little burg has been invaded and dominated with whimsical regularity by just about anybody who had a mind to try it and didn't have anything better to do that particular wet Monday. There isn't a nation in Europe hasn't left some strand of its helix in the British gene pool.'

  'We've kept a pretty clean sheet for the past millennium or so, wouldn't you say? And where d'you think Americans came from? You think they jes growed? Americans are made up of the trash that Europe rejected, if you're going to start getting personal.'

  'Well, lookee here. Old Harry Salt got hisself all riled up and patriotic on me. Aren't you just full of surprises?'

  I hoped I was. I hoped I still had one big nasty surprise left up my sleeve. I didn't want him thinking about it. I wanted to keep him off balance.

  'You know why you're not well-liked around the globe? Because you're an island race. You think the world ends just east of Ellis Island. Only one in ten of you even owns a passport, much less uses it. You have national sports that no one else on the planet even plays, then have the barefaced gall to declare yourselves world champions. You have, what: five, six per cent of the world's population? You consume more than two thirds of its narcotics and put out more than half of its pollution. And you don't care. You couldn't give a hootenanny. You don't engage with the rest of the world, Dick. That's America for you. The Great Masturbator.'

  'Well, here's me all telled off an' put in my place: sitting in Europe's trash can, beating my meat and slurping away at a triple-thick milkshake. Thanks for that, Harry. I'm suitably humbled.'

  There was a jolt and the car moved off.

  I started worrying about the stun stick. Did it still have enough charge left in it? Old Wolfie had used it pretty liberally, and it put out a lot of power. Was there still enough left to work with?

  We chugged slowly out to the lip of the mountain, made a turn and trundled along, looking down at the derelict dream.

  'See, Harry: this place is a case in point. Y'all got cold feet about American investment in Europe and pulled the plug here. Look what you done. What a waste. Seriously cold-cocked my plans, I can tell you. I had the Screaming Thunder ride rigged, all set to screw up on opening day. The inaugural ride, there were going to be a whole bunch of European bigwigs, and a bunch of American politicians, too. Pro-Europe dudes, of course. There was a fault in the track. Their carriage was going to shoot off of the end and come down to land somewhere in that mountain range yonder. Double whammy. Hell, it would have been a hoot. Some Austrian engineers take the rap -- hey, everyone's a winner.'

  'Seriously, Dick, just out of interest: how many people have you killed over the last decade? I'm not moralising or anything, it's just you may deserve a place in some record books, I reckon. Old Ted Bundy better start looking out.'

  'I don't just kill, Harry. I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.'

  Up his sleeve? Was that an oblique reference to my stun stick? Was he going to let me think I had a jump on him right up to the last moment, then whisk it cruelly away? That was certainly his style. 'What kind of tricks?'

  'I don't know. Like, say some lawyer someplace starts making convincing noises about repealing Article thirteen one nine nine. Now, I like thirteen one nine nine; it makes my work a whole bunch easier. So I hack into his personal life, send some kiddie porn to his computer, where he doesn't even know he's got it. Subscribe him to some nasty paedophile service with his own credit card number and tip off the appropriates. Wham! He's finito Benito. Whether the charges stick or not, his credibility's out the window. Nobody hurt, really. Just one less asshole out there singing the wrong song.'

  'Neat.' I spat.

  'I got a million of 'em.'

  The carriage trundled along some more. It wasn't the world's most thrilling roller coaster, but it had plenty of view. We took time out to enjoy it, me and Dick. Sometimes, you have to smell the roses to remind you life doesn't stink all the time.

  We were coming to another entrance in the rock face. The end of the line, I was thinking.

  Klingferm said: 'How did you kill Wolfie?'

  I didn't want him thinking too hard about Wolfie, or Wo
lfie's legacy to me. 'How? You mean how was a chump like me capable, or what method did I use?'

  'No, I knew you were capable, Harry. You're a dangerous man. I didn't expect it, though. That's not the way you've been playing things. Why didn't you whack that cop, for instance? That awful captain from Rome? You knew he had a hard-on for you. You knew he was tailing you. You should've whacked him. Standard Proc. I thought you'd gotten soft. I never figured you'd ice Wolfie.'

  'I did it quick, if that's what you're wondering. I didn't make a big thing of it. He didn't see it coming.'

  Klingferm nodded. His swollen face was all contorted. What had Wolfie been to him? His lover? Jesus. I had to get him off the subject. 'What was Twinkle all about? The key? The locker numbers?'

  His smile came back. 'Twinkle? Oh, that was nothing. I knew I'd lose track of you somewhere along the line, and I just needed to know you'd be in Vienna by midnight on Thursday. I needed to know where you'd be at a particular time, is all.'

  'And the locker numbers?'

  'That was just so you had something on your mind. Something distracting you, so Wolfie could pick you up.'

  His eyes went all maudlin. We were back to Wolfie again. Shit.

  The cart trundled into the mountain and stopped behind a line of carts in a dimly lit tunnel. You had to climb up out of the cart to get onto the platform. I was thinking that this might be the moment, that Klingferm would be indisposed just for a fraction of a second climbing out of the cart, and that might be the best and only time to make my move. But Klingferm was too good for that.

  'What I'd like you to do now, Harry,' he said, 'is to climb up out of the truck and lie down on the floor, facing away from me. D'you think you could do that for me, good buddy?'

  I clambered out, and lay on the floor like the man said.

  Klingferm said 'Muchos gracias' and jumped up onto the platform nimbly. 'OK, we can walk a ways now.'

  I hauled myself to my feet and started walking.

  The tunnel let out into an airy hall, lined with shops and restaurants. Klingferm nodded I should keep walking forwards. I wondered where we were going. Then I saw it. We were headed towards a ride. The Screaming Thunder ride.

  FORTY-TWO

  There was a long list of people who shouldn't use the Screaming Thunder ride: pregnant women, children, the elderly, people with cardiac problems, people with epilepsy, people with vertigo, claustrophobics, haemophiliacs, people recovering from head injuries or surgery, people on drugs. Anyone, in fact, who wasn't a fully fit Olympic athlete with a string of gold medals was advised to avoid the ride.

  Klingferm steered me through the barrier and into a dark chamber. The only illumination was from some glowing red bulbs set into the walls, and none too many of them, neither. It took a while for my eyes to adjust.

  There were some metal mesh steps leading up to a metal mesh platform. The platform went on for maybe two hundred metres. At the end of the walkway, I could see a large, cigar-tube-shaped capsule set on a monorail. The capsule had seats, I reckoned, for forty or so passengers. Its lid was open.

  I stepped up to the platform and started walking along it. Klingferm followed me.

  We stopped at the capsule.

  I asked him: 'You want me to get in the capsule?'

  He nodded. 'Anywhere you like, this time, Harry. I won't be joining you on this trip. You're going to be flying solo.'

  Good. I'd be off the metal walkway, and Klingferm would be on it. I climbed in. I didn't know how well the mesh would conduct the charge, or even if there'd be enough of a charge to conduct, but this was my shot. This was my shot.

  'I'm not going to bullshit you, Harry. I'm not going to insult your intelligence. I can't let you live, we both know that. But I am going to need the name of your linkman, and the magazines you talk to him through. That's all. It's not a big thing. It's not like you'll be pulling the trigger.'

  'You know that's not going to happen, Dick. You know I'd never give that up.' My arm below the lip of the capsule, I let the stun stick slip down my sleeve.

  'Ah, but you haven't heard the deal yet, Harry. You haven't heard my sales pitch. Here's my offer, my special, once-in-a-lifetime bargain offer you can't refuse: you give me those things I want, and in return I don't waste Ms Pallister in the crudest, most vicious way conceivable. How's that sound, old buddy? How d'you like them apples?'

  Gina? How the hell did he know about Gina?

  'You're thinking it over, I can see that, Harry. I told you you were going soft. You gone and got yourself a girlfriend, girlfriend! I don't blame you. I'm not pointing fingers. We all of us get lonely. We all get tempted. That's OK, Harry, we're none of us perfect. You give me the names, you give me the good stuff and I'll leave Gina alone. I swear I won't ever touch her. I swear I won't rape her slowly with a white-hot poker, then use it to break every single bone in her beautiful body, one at a time. Scout's honour, I won't do that. I promise I won't remove her face slowly with a scalpel and get Dr Rutter to sew it onto some beggar's ass, while she's still alive. Can I be fairer than that? Is that the Deal Of The Century, or what?'

  'That is a heck of an offer, Dick. That certainly does sound like one hell of a bargain I should just snap right up. Thing is, you being an amoral, evil son of a bitch, and my just having driven your boyfriend's nose bone through his brain, how do I know I can trust you?'

  'I'm giving you my word, Harry. I'm giving you my word as an English gentleman.'

  'Well, in that case, Dick...'

  I pressed the tip of the stick to the mesh and thumbed the trigger.

  It still had charge all right.

  It still had plenty of charge.

  The first jolt hurled Klingferm against the walls of the cage, which wasn't the best place to be. The fingers of his right hand curled involuntarily around the mesh and locked him there while the voltage just kept on coming, just kept on travelling through his body. He was juddering badly. He was shaking and quaking, his eyes wide open and staring at me, his teeth set grim, trying to fight the pain, but it wouldn't stop, it just wouldn't stop. Just kept on coming. His flesh started smoking. I could smell it. I could smell his hair burning. A dark stain suddenly blossomed around his crotch, and where his urine hit the mesh out of the bottom of his trouser leg, it sizzled, hissed and boiled and steamed clean away.

  His left arm was rising, quivering, shivering, but rising slowly all the time. Rising to point at me. The arm with the gun on the end of it.

  It was a hell of a struggle for poor old Klingferm. I know, because I've been on the other end of that voltage, and I don't understand how he was keeping upright, much less finding the strength of will, finding the reserves to keep raising that arm.

  But he did it. He got it raised. And when he was almost there, when the gun was almost aimed directly at my face and ready to blow my head out of this realm and into the next, I let my thumb off the button.

  He jerked wildly. His arm flung itself out and hurled the gun into the air. It clattered on the edge of the platform and tumbled into the capsule, maybe ten rows behind me.

  Klingferm prised the melted flesh of his right hand open and crumbled to his knees. An unworldly hiss escaped through his gritted teeth.

  'Shit, Harry,' he croaked through his charred throat in a voice that was hardly human any more. 'Wolfie swore to me he'd gotten rid of that damned thing. Swore to me. I told him that damned thing was fucking dangerous.'

  I turned my head and looked back along the capsule's seats. I had a choice now. I could get out onto the platform and take Klingferm on, hand-to-hand, or I could race down the capsule and try and recover the gun.

  Klingferm was hurting, certainly there was that, but there was no telling how well he was hurting, and he was still armed with that popgun and that wicked blade, at the very least. I had the stun stick, but there couldn't be much more left in it. There couldn't be much left in it at all. I could try it again, but to try it and fail was to die.

  Klingferm was still on his
knees, nursing the smouldering remains of his right hand, but I could see in his eyes he was doing the same arithmetic as me.

  I started scrabbling over the seat, back towards the gun, all the while looking back to see what Tricky Dicky was up to. I saw him haul himself to his feet. I kept on scrabbling. I'd expected Klingferm to start running towards me, but he didn't. He staggered backwards and crashed against the mesh.

  What the hell was he trying to do? Had I really fried his brain?

  I got back to where I thought the gun had fallen, and started looking for it, but it was dark and I was hurrying and I had to keep on checking what Klingferm was up to, in case I lost track of him and wound up with a derringer pressed to my eyeball.

  He was feeling around the wall back there. He was looking for something, but I didn't know what.

  I decided I'd got the wrong row, and climbed over the seat back to the next one.

  As I hit the seat, there was a loud click, and an electronic sort of whining sound. The carriage juddered.

  Klingferm had started up the ride.

  The lid of the capsule was coming down. Whoopy sirens started up. A recorded voice told everybody to remain in their seats with their arms inside the capsule. I was about to leap clear and take whatever small chances I might have, unarmed on the platform against a very armed and very pissed-off Klingferm, when the carriage lurched forward and the gun clattered out from under the seat.

  I scooped it up and flicked off the safety. The capsule had started moving now, and the lid was coming down, coming down. I looked out, but I couldn't see Klingferm, He wasn't where he'd just been. Over the whine of the motors, and the whoop-whoop of the sirens, I heard footsteps on metal, coming from behind. Klingferm had run right past me while I'd been scrabbling under the seat. Run pretty fast, too. I was surprised he still had it in him.

  I aimed the gun at his disappearing back. The lid was coming down and the capsule was speeding up, and I reckoned I had one chance of a shot, and I took it.