A Love to Kill For

by Conor Corderoy

  I nodded. It made sense. But something else didn’t make sense. I shook my head. “If she had seduced Hugo—and del Roble had already got him to change his will in favor of the Brotherhood—why the big set-up at the party? He already had what he wanted.”

  “Because the will gave him control of the power station, but he still needed to influence the oil markets. He needed to control how the EU responded to Andalusia’s coming bid for independence. That way he would have control of maybe sixty percent of Europe’s oil—perhaps more. At that party, there were some major figures from the Commission. One of them was Mary-Jane’s mark.”

  “So what happened?”

  She looked me square in the eye. “She fell in love with Rupert.”

  “You believe that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  I knew Mary-Jane Carter. I had met a hundred like her. I could believe she’d fall in love with Pete Strickland. It’s the kind of dumb-ass, stupid thing they do. But with Rupert? Like the man said, they are the Dark Continent, but I still found it hard to swallow.

  She must have seen the expression on my face because she said, “It was all she’d ever needed, Liam. All she’d ever needed in life was a chance. A chance to be herself—to be good and decent. To have a normal life, like everybody else. To have the things normal people have, instead of being exploited and trodden on and used as some kind of soulless merchandise.”

  In my experience, when it comes to relationships and sex, people usually don’t need what they want and they want what they sure as hell don’t need. But I kept quiet and listened. After a moment, she went on in a small voice.

  “He was good for her. He was kind. She wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him.” She took a swig of whiskey and sucked on her cigarette, like she didn’t like the taste of what she’d just said. “I truly believe she really loved him, and he made her change.”

  I thought it was time for a reality check and said, “So why’d she dump him?”

  “Serafino told her that if she didn’t go ahead with the scam, he’d have Rupert killed. As it is, he has him in the frame for Strickland’s murder.”

  “But…?”

  “But she decided to pull the plug on it anyway. She told Pete she was going to hang on to the pictures and negotiate with Serafino. Pete made a phone call and paid for it with his life, but by then Mary-Jane had given the pictures to me, and I’d got them to you.”

  I took a slug of whiskey and rubbed my face. I was beginning to come around. It was a good story with the ring of truth, but there were still things that didn’t make sense. I asked her, “Why the big show in New York?”

  She flopped back in her chair and covered her face with her hands. “Do we have to go through all this? Can’t you just accept what I’m telling you?”

  “Yes, we do. And, no, I can’t.”

  She sighed and dropped her hands. She sounded ragged. “It was Mary-Jane’s idea. Frankly, I was starting to go to pieces, Liam. I had never been involved in this kind of thing before. Murder and blackmail, for God’s sake! I was utterly out of my depth.”

  “So what was her idea?”

  “She’d heard about you on the grapevine, in the clubs she used to frequent. You had a reputation for being tough, unscrupulous and on the shady side of the law. I would present myself as the victim of blackmail, offer you a lot of money to make the drop and when Serafino turned up, she would be waiting. She would start a shoot-out. The chances were you would kill him, but if you didn’t, she would take him out.”

  I stood. “So that was her again, not you. I’m touched by your confidence, but it seems you overrated both of us.”

  She picked up on my tone and looked at me sharply. “I was desperate! I didn’t know what I was doing. She was so sure it was the right thing. If I’d known you back then…”

  “So it’s okay to risk people’s lives if you don’t know them? They teach you that in your expensive prep school?”

  She looked away. “Stop it.” She was silent a long time. Then she said, “You can be as sanctimonious as you like. I make no apology for what I did. The reason I’m here, the reason I’ve been through all of this, is my sister. I have lived my whole life planning and waiting for this day—the day I would rescue her. Save her…” Now she turned to face me. “I didn’t want to bring her into it. If I’ve lied to you—if I’ve lied repeatedly—it’s been to try to keep her out of it. I’m truly sorry, but if I had to do it all again, I would…to save my sister.”

  I felt like telling her it wasn’t her sister who needed saving. Instead I said, “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

  “Mary-Jane has persuaded him to do a deal.”

  “He lets Rupert off the hook if you give him the material that hands him the EU Commissioner.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And what guarantee have you, Mary-Jane and I, that once he has the material, he won’t go ahead and hang Rupert out to dry and have us whacked?”

  She gave a small smile. “I’m learning, Liam. I’ve thought of that.” She stood and walked across the room to the bed, then turned to face me. She was just a deeper shadow in the half light of the room—a disembodied voice. “You go now to Serafino. You tell him you have sent me to get the material. Meanwhile, I get copies made.”

  “What good will that do? The pictures don’t incriminate del Roble. They incriminate your EU Commissioner.”

  “That’s true, Liam, but Mary-Jane and I have both sworn affidavits, and along with the incriminating material and your testimony, it will be enough to put del Roble away for life.”

  I smiled, but not in a happy way. “For a dumb broad, you sure have it sewn up.”

  She stepped forward, and now I could see that she was smiling. She looked dead beat. “All you have to do now, Liam, is give me back the box, the one you collected from the locker. You arrange to see del Roble, and I’ll go to get the copies.”

  I thought for a while. Finally, I said, “So you escape, disappear and Serafino del Roble lives to ride another day—to keep blackmailing, murdering…”

  “Have you a better idea?” She took another step toward me. She was urgent. “Liam, that box, its contents… It’s all we have. Our only hope…” Then, “You could come with me… Us…”

  I drew breath, but cut the words off before I spoke them. My shirt and my jacket were hanging over the back of a chair near the bed. I went and started dressing. She was watching every move I made, trying to read their meaning. As I was buttoning up, I said, “The answer is no, Catherine. You may be the sweetest, most honest woman ever born, but you have every reason and every motivation to lie, cheat, stick me in the back and sell me down the river. I’d like to trust you but I can’t—and I don’t.”

  I tucked my shirt in while watching her. She seemed paralyzed. Her face and eyes were drawn tight. I sat and started pulling on my socks. She was still staring at the empty space where I had stood. I said, “I’m going to help you, Catherine, but I’m going to do it my way, because my way is smart and not crazy. And for another reason. I’m bored. Tired of your lies and bullshit.”

  When I’d pulled on my shoes, I stood then walked over to her and held her by the shoulders. She snapped out of it and looked up at me. In the half-light I couldn’t read her eyes, but I could read her body. She pressed close to me. She was drop-dead gorgeous and as hot as a brace of Carolina reapers. Every red blood cell in my body told me I should take her right there and right then. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

  I said, “Where is Mary-Jane now?”

  “She’s with Serafino. At the abbey.”

  “I’m going to go get her. You sit tight here, where I know I can find you. I’ll do the deal. I’ll get Mary-Jane, and I’ll fix it so that you have no more trouble with him. But you have to play it my way. You understand? No more crazy plans, no more lies, no more going off half-cocked.” I took half a step back and held her face in my hands. “I don’t want your promise, Catherine. Your promise
s aren’t worth shit. I just need you to understand. Your crazy schemes don’t work. My way does.”

  She put her arms around me like those were the only words she had ever wanted to hear. She rested her head on my chest and whispered, “Yes…”

  “You’d better mean it, Catherine. Your life and my life—and Mary-Jane’s—depend on it. Stay here and wait.”

  “I know, Liam. I know.”

  Then she lifted her face to mine. She wanted me to kiss her. I wanted me to kiss her. I was Liam Murdoch, right? Ne’er-do-well, chancer and rogue. And she was the hottest dame south of the North Pole. But something was happening to me. I looked at myself in disgust. I was turning into Rupert.

  I gently kissed her forehead then slowly pushed her away and snarled, “Not now. Let’s just try to make it through this night.”

  She frowned, but before she could answer, I said, “Where is my car?”

  “I brought it here. It’s parked downstairs.”

  I went down and found the Mustang in the car park then I opened the trunk. My Smith & Wesson 26 was still there. I stuck it in my waistband and pocketed a box of .44s. From under the spare, I pulled out the black box and slipped it in my jacket pocket too.

  When I got up to the room, she was sitting on the bed, staring at her hands. She looked like a frightened twelve-year-old. I showed her the gun. “It’s a hell of a cannon for a woman, and it might blow you off your feet, but if you just point it in the right direction, and hold it with both hands, it’ll stop most things.” She took it and stared at me as though I were insane. I handed her the box of rounds and went on, “I’ll be through by tomorrow. In the meantime, you need some insurance.”

  She held the gun a moment, looking at it, then laid it on the bed next to her. I pulled out the featureless black box and handed it over. Her eyes went real wide and she gave an involuntary gasp. She reached for it and I thought her hands were trembling. I gave a small laugh and said, “I never saw a photo album quite like it.”

  “You brought it with you…”

  “Yeah, my gut told me to keep it close. Too many people want to get their hands on what’s inside it.” Her eyes darted to my face. I watched her a moment, then said, “It’s okay, Catherine. I haven’t opened it.” Some of the tension seemed to go out of her, and I added, “You already told me what’s in it, remember?”

  We held each other’s eyes for a long moment, then I turned and made for the door. Suddenly she called out and when I stopped, she ran to me, still hugging the box to her chest. “Liam! Liam, you’re not armed. If anything happens… Please take the gun.”

  I lied and said, “I have another in the car.”

  She reached up with her left hand and ran her fingers softly down my cheek to touch my lips.

  I opened the door and left.

  Chapter Twelve

  When I got downstairs, I crossed the car park to the Mustang and climbed in. You could smell the chaos in the dust and the scorching air. There were soldiers everywhere, clinging to their rifles and looking lost and frightened. Half the shops that lined the square were closed. The other half were selling a few rotten vegetables and a handful of skinned cats on iron hooks. I sat for a while, looking at this ugly underbelly of the dream of freedom, thinking that anarchy and chaos are not always wild. Sometimes they are tawdry, dull and desperate. This did not feel like a nation fighting for independence. It felt like a nation suffering from terminal hopelessness. I pulled out my cell and called Noddy.

  “Liam! Where you fuckin’ bin?”

  “I wish I knew. Did you find anything?”

  “I bin followin’ the fuckin’ news, man. Things are lookin’ real fuckin’ bad there. You should come back, mate.”

  “How bad?”

  “I’m telling ya’. It ain’t fuckin’ funny anymore. The EU’s done a fuckin’ U-turn. They’re sayin’ they’re gonna back Spain against Andalusia. They’re sayin’ it’s gonna be all out fuckin’ war. You godda get out a’there, Liam.”

  I thought for a moment, then asked, “What about my apartment?”

  “Like Godzilla went fuckin’ cold turkey in there.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse.”

  I nodded like he could see me. “Keep safe, Noddy.”

  “Me? Take your own fuckin’ advice, Liam! Fer fuck’s sake, get yerself home in one piece!”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  I hung up and fired up the V8.

  * * * *

  By the time I got back to Maria’s place, the sun was hovering over the mountains, spilling rich red blood over the sky behind smoky yellow clouds. A very sheepish Rosalia let me in and I found Maria in her usual place on the terrace. She didn’t smile when she saw me. She just sat with a ‘what have you got to say for yourself?’ face, waiting for me to talk. I felt anger well up and die in confusion inside me. I realized what I wanted more than anything else was for this crazy woman to like me as much as I liked her, and take me back into her crazy home. But as I’d already told myself, Liam didn’t do that, and all I could think of to say was, “I guess you’re pretty mad at me.”

  She produced something that would have been a smile if it hadn’t had icicles hanging off it and said, “Your girlfriend was here and introduced herself, so I imagine you’ll be shacking up with her.”

  I frowned. “My girlfriend?”

  Her face flushed, but she hung on to her smile. “Oh dear, Liam. Had you forgotten you had one? Pretty thing. She said she’d be staying at the Continental in Competa.”

  “Catherine…”

  “Oh, well, at least you can remember her name. That’s quite useful in a relationship.”

  “Stop it, Maria. She’s not my girlfriend.” There was urgency in my voice. I wanted her to believe me and cursed myself for giving a damn what she thought.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “Perhaps you’d better tell her that. She seems to think she is.”

  “I’ve known her maybe two weeks. She employed me to do a job.”

  “I know you’re not slow to act, Liam. She certainly seems to be impressed.”

  We looked at each other in silence for a moment. I didn’t know what to say or where to begin building anything remotely like a bridge. All I knew was that I wanted her to believe me, and I didn’t know how to tell her. Finally, she seemed to give up and look away. She said, “I’ve had Rosalia pack your things. I really don’t think you can stay here any longer.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Maria.” I hesitated and shrugged. “And I mean that.”

  Her smile dropped a couple of icicles. Not enough to qualify as warm, but not enough to give you frostbite either. “You’re a bastard, Liam. You’re lovable, but you’re a bastard. I don’t want to get involved with you. I don’t need it. So it’s best you leave.”

  By the time I’d got my things and slung them in the car, Maria had disappeared. I asked Rosalia to say goodbye for me then pulled out of the drive with a hot hole in my belly and snarling at myself to get a grip. The last damned thing I needed in my life was a woman making me go soft and pink. Next thing I knew I’d be putting conditioner in my hair and using moisturizing cream after I shaved.

  High in the hills I could see the lights of the abbey winking in the deepening dusk. I stopped at the end of the road where there was an intersection and a lay-by, pulled out a Camel and lit up. I sat for a while, looking at the lights. It looked very far away. Suddenly I was exhausted. My body and my brain ached, and if I’d had anything else to ache, I was pretty sure that would have ached too.

  I put her in gear, let out the clutch then headed for Competa. From what Sinead and Catherine were telling me, the mysterious head honcho enlightened goatherd was del Roble, and I figured my easiest way to see him was to get a message to him through the colonel. I drove slowly, letting the night air slap me about a bit. It was getting dark fast and there was no moon. The trees and bushes reared up in the beams from my headlights, like furious nightmares mad at being woken from the
ir own dark dreams. About halfway to Competa, I saw red and blue lights winking through the undergrowth on the road up ahead, and, as I rounded the bend, I saw it was a Guardia Civil road block. I swore and pulled up.

  A sergeant strutted up to my door in squeaking jackboots and snapped something at me in Sonofabitch. I don’t speak Sonofabitch. I only speak Wiseass, so I shrugged and smiled my sweetest, most winning smile. “No comprende… Sorry, pal.”

  He obviously didn’t like my winning smile because instead of smiling back, he snapped, “Papers! Name! There is a curfew. Why you are out?”

  I gave him my papers and said, “My name is Liam Murdoch. Get me your Colonel Fermin. I’ll talk to him.”

  He turned and rattled something at one of his inferiors in jackboots and I heard the words ‘Coronel Fermin García’. Then he turned to me and said, “Fuera del coche! Get out! Wait over there!”

  I have become quite successful and prosperous in life by sticking to a few simple principles. One of the most important ones is, as I have said elsewhere, never to take orders from small men in jackboots. So I pulled out my cigarettes and took my time extracting one, tapping it on my lighter and gently putting it in my mouth, watching his face while I lit it and blew smoke at him. When I had finished, I said, “I think I’ll get out of the car and wait over there, if that’s okay with you.”

  While I waited for the colonel, sitting on a rock, smoking and watching the stars do very little, I had time to think. Usually, when you don’t understand something, it’s because you’re having trouble finding the links and connections between the parts. But what was happening here was exactly the opposite. There were too many links, too many connections to too many parts. It was hard to keep track of them all.

  And to complicate things even more, since I had been in the disintegrating kingdom, reality itself seemed to be falling apart at the seams. And wherever the seams seemed to split, there seemed to be Mary-Jane Carter and Sinead Tiernan peering through the rend. And now Catherine Howard had joined them, like the three Wyrd Sisters or the Norns, weaving my destiny for me, out of mist and ectoplasm. I didn’t know how they did what they did, but they were using smoke and mirrors with a consummate skill that made David Blaine look like Mickey Mouse in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.