by Jay Stringer
TheSamIreland – But I need to cancel tonight.
TheSamIreland – Sorry xx
My heart did a weird thing in my chest as the last message sent. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I didn’t cry when my dad died, yet cancelling a date with a guy made me want to break open?
Crap. Maybe Phil and Hanya were right about me.
Hanya got out of the car and joined me at the fence.
‘Want your suit back?’ I said.
‘After you’ve washed it.’ She smiled.
The joke held for a few seconds, but it couldn’t win out against the tension we were both feeling.
‘We’re in trouble,’ I said.
She nodded. ‘And if Joe is involved, we really have no idea how high this goes. His party could be involved. The council.’
I pulled the notebook I’d taken from Paula’s room and flicked through the pages. Compelling evidence hadn’t magically appeared on any of the blank pages.
‘We don’t have enough,’ I said. ‘I mean, we don’t even know what’s going on. Not all of it. So, there’s a conspiracy, the cops are involved, and Joe is trying to cover it up. There’s something about a cartel, and they’re going to take something over tomorrow. We’ve got a vague conversation on tape, and an empty notebook.’
‘If we could just get hold of Martin Mitchell or Callum Gibson.’
Hanya hadn’t even finished saying the words before we both knew the answer to that particular line of thought.
Crap.
‘We’ll not find either of them,’ I said. ‘I’ve been looking for a dead man. Again. Why do I always get into these things?’ I laughed, but there was no humour in it. ‘Paula was in that room, trying to tape a conversation between Martin and whoever else was there. She runs, contacts me, gives me the package. Joe’s people have killed them all to shut them up, and they burned down the building.’
‘These people, my people.’ She made a clicking noise between her teeth. ‘They’ve killed in broad daylight and got away with it. They’ve buried the CCTV.’
This was all my fault.
As ever.
I pulled on those threads, and the things that came loose hurt the people around me.
‘I’m sorry, Han.’
‘Don’t be. What were you supposed to do? Walk away from seeing Paula die? That’s not your style, Sam. Always trying to save people. It’s why I like you.’ She dropped her voice a little. ‘I wish I was like that.’
At any other time, I would have been touched.
I would have buried it under a joke, but still.
In that moment, I was too busy being numb.
A message came through from Fergus.
FergusSingsTheBlues – Okay
That was it. Nothing to say he understood, or that it wasn’t a problem.
‘What do we do?’ I said.
‘All we can do is play it normal. They don’t know we have the tapes. They don’t know we got anything out of the house. I mean, they don’t know we were in the house.’
‘They’ll figure it out once she describes us.’
Hanya gave me a look. ‘I’m looking for the positives here.’
‘Okay, sorry. Positive is good. I’m with the positive.’
‘Paula was undercover, so she was an easy target. Cal was a criminal, so nobody cares, and Martin Mitchell isn’t even known to be dead. They’re trying to do this, whatever it is, on the quiet. So, we go about our normal business, we don’t make a scene, and we stay around other people.’ She gave me one of those looks that said, This is the important bit. ‘Until we figure all of this out, don’t be on your own.’
‘Well, I can sit in the office with Phil for the afternoon. I can stall Mike Gibson a while longer, and I’ve cancelled my date with Fergus, so—’
‘No.’ Hanya was smiling in spite of everything. ‘You’re going on that date even if I have to force you there at gunpoint. I can now, you know.’ She patted the small of her back. ‘I’m locked and loaded.’
‘Still carrying?’
She nodded. ‘I’m not reporting the gun. Right now we don’t know who it belongs to. And if cops are involved in all this, I don’t know who I can trust.’
‘Why do you suppose Paula left it behind? Why not have it on her?’
Hanya shrugged. ‘We’re assuming it was hers, for defence. Maybe it was evidence? If it was hers, and she was trained on it, she’d only pull if necessary. Besides, the paperwork? Don’t go there. I’ve shot three people, and my job’s been on the line after each one.’
And two of those were my fault, I knew.
I covered with a joke. ‘Admit it, you just like carrying one. Playing at Jack Bauer.’
She smiled. ‘Maybe a little. Plus,’ she turned around and raised her jacket, showing the gun tucked into a small leather-effect holster on her belt, ‘I had this left over from the old days.’
We both stood and watched for a while as some children played football in the park. A kid was trying to be Lionel Messi, dribbling the ball past everyone. Until one of the bigger boys booted him to the ground. The rest of the kids celebrated the foul as if it was a goal.
‘How about you?’ I was packing my bag and getting ready to ride off. ‘You shouldn’t be alone, either. You don’t know who on your team might be in on it.’
Hanya patted the small of her back again. ‘I’m fine. I need to go see the Pennan woman in about an hour. She was all kinds of hysterical this morning, so the boss wants me to go back and take another try. You know,’ she lowered her voice to impersonate a man, ‘You’re a woman, she’s a woman, maybe she’ll talk. Sexism rules, yo.’
‘True dat.’
We did a fist bump to complete our moment of being street. I pushed off on the bike. Hanya called something after me about her suit, but I was already building up speed.
SIXTY-NINE
ALEX
14:13
Alex came to again. Things felt easier this time. He could remember most of what had happened. That was a good sign, right?
His legs were stretched out, and he could feel carpet beneath him. Alex opened his eyes to see he was laid out on the ground, with his back against the wall to prop him in a sitting position. His damaged leg had been wrapped up in brown parcel tape, and two of the legs from the chair he’d been sitting on were used as splints, just about visible through the layers of tape.
‘I did a day’s first aid training at school,’ Milo said. ‘So you’re welcome.’
‘And I’ve seen every episode of ER and most of Grey’s Anatomy.’ Kara was kneeling down next to Alex. ‘So I was able to supervise.’
Alex realised he couldn’t feel the taped-up leg at all. And his other leg was distant; he could feel it only through a wall of ice. His hands were bound behind his back, but he could flex them, so he focused on that.
‘You’ve lost a lot of blood,’ Kara said. ‘I’ll need to change the carpet.’
Alex tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t move at all. ‘Wuck wou.’
‘That’s sweet.’ Kara leaned in and kissed his forehead. She waved something in front on him. It was the burner Fergus had given him. ‘Someone keeps trying to call you,’ she said. ‘Maybe the person you were planning to share the money with?’
‘You remember what Darth Vader looked like without the makeup on?’ Milo said. He was holding a knife. ‘Well, you’ll see it in the mirror soon if you don’t start talking.’
Kara leaned in close to Milo. ‘Enough with the geek shit.’
Alex tried to turn to Kara. His movement was limited, and all he could do was turn his head. It sent pain shooting across his neck. ‘Wou won web away wib wis.’
‘I think we already have. I should thank you.’ Kara sounded different, now. Colder. ‘You trained me for this. All those friends we fucked over on the way up, cutting off my family when they didn’t like you? And you never thanked me for it. Not once. We moved up here and it was all about you. Never looked at what I was leaving behind, di
d you? I could be running Chelsea or Spurs by now. This is my money. I earned it.’ She took a step back from crazy into unhinged. ‘And none of this matters. It doesn’t matter what I do to you. It’s not really violence, is it? You’re not really here; you’re in a morgue somewhere.’
Milo got down on his knees and pressed the knife to Alex’s throat. ‘If I remember right, we each have eight pints, and losing more than four will kill you.’ He looked back at the carpet where Alex had been before. It looked like a swamp, with a dark stain and congealed dark goo sitting on the surface. ‘I’m not Doctor McCoy or anything, so I don’t know, pal, but I think there’s more than four over there. You need the hospital, and probably in the next few minutes. So, do you want to live, or do you want to be a dead rich man?’
‘Tell us where the money is,’ Kara said. ‘And we’ll get you to a doctor.’
Alex wanted to believe her. Still now, deep down, he wanted to trust what she said. But Kara had already given the game away. She’d said it didn’t matter what they did to him, he didn’t exist.
He had a simple choice.
Hold out, and die slowly here, but get a few more moments of life.
Or –
Tell them the bank details, and die quickly.
Was there another way? Could he get a message to someone? Maybe Fergus could help. How would he be able to do that? If only his brain wasn’t wrapped in this cold water. It was taking so much effort to think.
Maybe he could tell them Fergus had the money? Then they’d call him, and need to keep Alex alive until Fergus got here. If he turned up. Would the hit man care enough to help? Alex had been pretty rude to him. Blackmailed him. Threatened his family.
Shit.
Maybe, just maybe, Alex was starting to think, it would have been a good idea to be nice to a few people.
The doorbell rang. Milo and Kara looked at each other, then toward the door.
‘Who is it?’ Milo said.
‘How should I know?’ Kara hissed.
Alex felt a small surge of hope, somewhere down in whatever part of his body was still working. While Milo and Kara were distracted, he started flexing his hands again, feeling circulation coming back.
The rope, or whatever they’d used to tie his wrists together, wasn’t as tight as it had been when he was in the chair. Maybe they’d underestimated what was needed, because of all the blood he’d lost.
That thought made him go woozy, but he needed to press on. Push that away. Flex. Pull. Work himself loose.
Kara stood and walked over to the window. She took a look out, then stepped back fast. ‘It’s one of the cops from this morning,’ she said. ‘I remember her. Perera, I think.’
‘Hanya?’ Milo’s voice rose. Alex picked up on it.
Kara turned on him, sounding jealous. ‘Friend of yours?’
‘No, no. She’s a, uh.’ Milo climbed to his feet fast. ‘Sam, you know Sam. They’re like best friends or something.’ His voice lowered. ‘She kind of hates me.’
She’s not the only one, Alex thought.
‘Get him out of sight.’ Kara moved to the door. ‘I’ll get rid of her.’
The doorbell rang again. Kara stepped over to the living room door and waved her hand in a big circle, signalling for Milo to get a move on.
Milo bent down and took hold of Alex’s feet. He lifted them and started to drag Alex along the ground, through to the kitchen area. Alex felt his damaged leg for the first time since waking up. A numb, distant sensation. It wasn’t pain, not exactly. More like the time he had a tooth removed under local anaesthetic.
Except, he hadn’t been drugged.
He started to realise just how urgently he needed medical attention.
Milo let Alex slump behind the kitchen counter and knelt down over him, holding the knife to his throat. He raised a finger to his mouth in a Ssshhhhhh.
Out in the hallway, Alex heard the front door open.
Kara’s voice was quiet and controlled, with just the right amount of emotion being held back. The grieving widow. ‘Hi detective. How can I help?’
SEVENTY
FERGUS
13:00
‘I think they look hard to walk in,’ I say, playing it cool.
Khan laughs.
As I stand there, feeling too ridiculous to really let the fear sink in, Khan sits down on the stool and undoes each of the straps. She pulls a sleek red pair off the shelf and slips them on, then stands up slowly, wobbling a little from side to side as she tries to gauge the balance.
‘Walk with me,’ she says.
We walk up the aisle, toward a mirror. Khan pivots, and we walk back the way we came. Then we do it all over again.
‘I have a few problems,’ she says. ‘And I’m hoping you can help. Do you know Dominic Porter?’
I flinch. Just a little. I look up and see she’s watching me in the mirror as we walk toward it. ‘The councillor?’ I say. ‘I voted for him.’
We get to the mirror and turn, walk back down the aisle. At the stool, Khan sits back down, and takes the shoes off. She slips another pair on, and off we go.
‘Interesting,’ she says. Does she believe me? Does it matter? ‘Okay, I’m going to be straight with you, Fergus. I can call you Fergus? Good. I like to be straight. Too many people in the business want to hide behind bullshit or talk in code. We’re not in some shitty spy movie, are we?’
‘No,’ I say.
Her accent is a blend. I know from her background she was born in the Middle East, grew up in England, and studied in America. In each sentence that she says, the words veer off into different accents. Sometimes she has the soft Rs and Ts of England; sometimes she has the purr and roll of the Middle East. The American accent seems to be there at the start and end of everything.
‘Good. I don’t like that. And I don’t like corporate speak. Too many people running things up flagpoles, putting pins in balloons, thinking of blue skies. Fuck ’em all,’ she says. ‘If I’m going to kill you, I tell you.’ She leans into me to whisper, like a friendly aside. ‘I’m not going to kill you. I always get someone else to do it.’
I spend a second trying to figure out how to respond, but she cracks a smile. ‘I’m kidding,’ she says. ‘Not about getting other people to do it, but I don’t want to get you killed.’
‘I, uh, thanks, I think?’
‘Here’s where we’re at,’ she says. We pivot and walk the aisle again. ‘I have a big deal going through. This time tomorrow? I own this city. All of it. And I don’t trust anyone not to fuck it up. I got word that someone in Glasgow was moving against me, and Dominic Porter was going to find out who it was. But he’s vanished. He called me a couple of days ago, but never spoke. On the line, you know what I heard?’
‘What?’
‘Two shots. You’re the best hit man in town. Hey, that’s sexist, isn’t it? What should we call it? Hit person? Hitter?’
‘Call it whatever you like.’
‘Okay. Hitter. You’re the best. So I’m thinking, if Dominic Porter was killed, then the person who ordered it will be the person I need to know about. And, since you’re the best in town, you’re the person most likely to have pulled that trigger.’
I try the same tactic I took with Joe. ‘I wasn’t hired to kill Dominic Porter.’
She stops walking and peers up at me. Those eyes burn right in. It takes everything I have not to flinch.
‘These ones, I think.’ She looks down at her shoes, then smiles at the staff against the back wall. ‘Yes, I’ll take these. And all the ones I tried on. Thank you, girls.’
Khan turns to me again. ‘This morning, another man who worked for me got killed. Blown up. Alex Pennan. You believe that? Sky high. Just like in the movies. I hear you’d be the best person for that, too.’
‘I didn’t kill Alex Pennan.’
My party trick was starting to wear thin.
Khan puts a hand on my arm. ‘You’re telling the truth there. But there’s something you’re not sayi
ng, isn’t there?’ When I don’t answer she says. ‘Okay. I respect loyalty. Maybe if you’re as good as they say, and you’ve been paid, you don’t want to break anyone’s confidence. Look at it this way, if you did get paid to do it, and you do know anything else, then if you tell me before 1 p.m. tomorrow, I’ll let you name your fee. If you know and you don’t tell me? Then I’ll be making one of those calls to someone else.’
1 p.m. tomorrow.
There’s the deadline.
I can throw Joe under the bus right here. I know he’s plotting to move on her, and I know who at least two of his accomplices are. But I don’t. I’ve known Joe longer than I’ve known Khan, and I’m not looking to take sides. Let them do whatever they want. All I need to do is keep my head down and stay out of it. And now I know how long I need to lay low for.
And it’s not just me.
This mess has already taken a lot of people. Dominic Porter. Cal. Paula. If I tell Asma what’s really going on, that might lead to Baz and Nazi Steve getting involved, and I kinda liked them.
The only person who knows I killed Dominic is Joe. And he won’t betray me to Asma, because that would be turning himself in, too. If I can keep Joe from finding out about Alex, I can come out of this clean.
Walk away.
Kahn slips out of the shoes and gets a couple inches shorter. She nods at the door, where Long Hair is waiting. ‘He can go,’ she says.
Long Hair hands me my phone on the way out and says, ‘Goodbye,’ all polite, like this was just a normal everyday event.
I guess for him it is.
SEVENTY-ONE
ALEX
14:28
Milo pressed down on Alex.
They could both hear conversation coming through from the hall in small chunks. Some words were clear, others muffled. Kara was doing her best to keep the cop out there, and her answers were short and polite.
Alex could hear the evasion in Kara’s voice, but he was listening for it. He hoped the cop would pick up on it.
‘. . . sent the others away,’ Alex heard the cop say. ‘But I just need to ask a few more things.’
Her voice came closer. She was just on the other side of the door now. Kara’s act wasn’t working, and the cop wanted to stick around. She intended a longer visit than a quick hello on the doorstep.