by Gavin Lyall
My voice sounded empty and monotonous, like the hollow thumping of a big gong. But I had to go on beating it. ‘Then he got into the fight – and he killed the best gunman in Europe. A man rated above him. Now – Where’s his problem? He’s proved he can mix pistols and whisky. He won’t live two months.’
Her eyes got narrow. ‘But you dragged him into that fight – and youknew this could happen?’
I shook my head helplessly. ‘I tried not to. That’s why I tried to kill Alain myself. I thought I could do it – the element of surprise, creeping up the trenches… being Caneton.’ I smiled a little stiffly. ‘Caneton used to be pretty good at that sort of thing. But maybe Merlin was right.’
She said quietly: ‘About both of you.’
Harvey lifted himself on to his feet. He was perfectly steady; several of Flez’s whiskies on top of the flask of brandy hadn’t touched his balance. But you need a lot more than balance, and a lot less whisky, to be Europe’s best gunman.
He said: ‘So let’s get to Paris.’
I nodded and turned for the door. The girl said clearly and bitterly: ‘Thank you, Monsieur Caneton.’
And perhaps she was right. Perhaps I was still Caneton. And perhaps-I looked at her, then at Harvey; at the haunted, lined face that was, in an odd way, so innocent because it showed its guilt so clearly.
I said: ‘How’re the shakes?’
He stretched his right hand towards me, fingers spread.
They were as steady as carved stone. He smiled down at them.
I said: ‘Pretty good,’ and then swung the Mauser over and down. I heard – and felt – the fingers crack.
In the shocked silence his dragging breath was like a scream. He arched forward, hugging his hand against his stomach, his face clenched and white. Then he toppled back and crashed into a chair.
The girl was at his side, cradling his head, stroking his hair, murmuring to him.
Maganhard said coldly: ‘I hardly think that was-‘
‘I saved his life,’ I said. ‘For another month. It’ll take three months for his hand to heal well enough to use a gun again.’
Miss Jarman looked at me, her eyes hard and bright. ‘You didn’t need to dothat.’
‘It was cheap, simple, a bit nasty,’ I said dully. ‘What Caneton would have done. If I’d been somebody else maybe I’d’ve thought of something better. But I’m not.’
Harvey half opened his eyes and whispered hoarsely: ‘You’d better hide good, Cane. Real good. Because I’ll spend a long time looking.’
I nodded. ‘I’ll be at Clos Pinel – or they’ll know where.’
‘He’ll kill you,’ the girl said.
‘Perhaps. It could be up to you. It could even be something for him to stay sober for.’
I walked out and nobody tried to stop me It was still snowing gently. Halfway down the mountain I remembered that I’d never collected the balance of my pay -four thousand francs. I kept on going, but looked at my watch. It was a minute after midnight. Ahead of me, the mountain road was a dark tunnel without any end.
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