Crime Always Pays

by Declan Burke

  Melody

  'Be with you in a sec,' Melody said, looking up from the computer. She glanced over the guy's shoulder at the clock on the back wall above the rack of Far East / Australasia brochures, its red LCD showing temperatures in all the time-zones, still 28 degrees in Marrakech and nearly ten o'clock there, give or take.

  Then focused on the guy, hulking and slope-shouldered, the untidy shag of dirty-blonde hair with a fringe, falling across his eyes and putting her in mind of Javier Bardem, No Country. 'So how can I help?' she said, flashing a smile.

  'I'm looking to book a holiday.'

  'Well, you've come to the right place.' She rattled a few keys on the keyboard for show. 'Anywhere particular in mind?'

  'Not really. Where's hot right now?'

  'Weather-hot or cool-hot?'

  'You can't get both?'

  'Sure. Just give me an idea of where you're thinking about.'

  The guy considered, then shrugged. 'That girl was just in here, she looked funky. Where's she going?'

  'I shouldn't say,' Mel said. 'It's not really a service we provide to women flying alone, a potential stalker as a surprise added extra.'

  The guy grinned. 'It's okay,' he said. 'I know her.'

  'Oh yeah? What's her name?'

  'Let's just say she's a friend of a friend.'

  'You know the friend's name? That'd be a start.'

  'We, uh, only met this afternoon.'

  'Love at first sight,' Mel said. Trying to figure the guy, nice eyes behind the fringe when he smiled, no psycho vibes. Big all round, the husky type, but no sense of threat with it, a gentle voice. Although maybe that was his schtick. 'Listen,' she said, 'here's an idea. Why don't you ask her friend you know so well where the girl's going on holidays?'

  'See,' he said, 'the friend's already gone. This girl, she'll be meeting her. And it's more the friend I'm interested in.'

  'This is a travel agency, not a dating service.'

  'I know, but --'

  'Sorry,' Mel said, 'no can do.'

  He held her gaze a second or two, a shaggy bear standing there with his shoulders slumped. Then he shrugged and lumbered to the door. Locked it and flipped the sign around, started back slow, tugging up his t-shirt so Mel could see the pearl-grip butt of a gun sticking out of his pants. Mel soundtracking it – Kenny Rogers, Coward of the County. Or maybe Ennio.

  'Look, uh, Melody,' he said, nodding at her name-tag, 'I really don't want --'

  'Is that thing even loaded?'

  ''Course, yeah.'

  'So I don't tell you where the girl's gone, you'll shoot me. Just like that.'

  'I'm not saying it'd be easy,' the guy said, 'but --'

  'Bullcrap.'

  'Sorry?'

  'Who're you supposed to be, Eddie G?'

  ‘I was more aiming for Mitchum.'

  'Yeah,' Mel said, 'I can see that now, with the sleepy-eyes thing going on. You ever done time for dope?'

  'Three months, yeah. Half a pound a weed. I wouldn't have minded so much, it actually was for personal use. Anyway, this girl, where's she going?'

  'How come you want her?'

  'You first.'

  'No, you.'

  The guy considered. 'See,' he said, 'I could tell you, yeah, but then you'd be an accessory after the fact.'

  'What fact?'

  'You don't have to worry about the girl,' he said. 'I mean, she's a cop, yeah. But our beef isn't with her.'

  'She's a cop?'

  'Yep.'

  'Shouldn't she be chasing you?'

  'Like I say, she's a friend of a friend. The friend, or friends, they've got money belongs to an associate of mine. So …'

  'How much money?' Mel said.

  'I thought this was a travel agency, not an information bureau.'

  'Touché. But listen, uh, Bob …'

  'It's Gary.'

  'Okay, Gary …' Mel put her elbows on the counter, leaned in. 'I tell you where she's going, Gary, how much is that worth to you?'

  'That depends.'

  'On what?'

  'I really couldn't say,' Gary said. 'I'm the muscle, not the money-man.'

  Frank

  'Frank's the victim here,' Bryan told the lead detective. 'You don't get that? He's been set up, dragged into some kidnap scam, had his knee blown out … I mean, he's the one lying in a hospital bed, okay, makes it a little easier for you to track him down, pin all this bullshit on him, I understand how it's maybe more difficult for you to catch bad guys who're still on their feet, able to walk away, maybe run a few rings around you they feel like a little aerobic exercise. But,' Bryan held up three fingers clamped together, looking to Frank like he was about to execute a Scout's salute, dib-dib-dib, Frank watching with his eye half-open, feigning coma, 'if you're not out of here in three seconds flat you'll be looking at a harassment suit on top of the negligence, I shit you not.'

  'When'll he be able to answer questions?' the cop asked the nurse.

  'I don't know,' the nurse said. 'Ask the doctor.'

  'Where'll I find him?'

  'Oh,' the nurse said, edging around the bed to check Frank's saline drip, 'there's a box in the corridor marked 'Doctors', we just pull one out any time we have a question. Just make sure you put him back when you're finished, okay? We hate it when there's loads of doctors running around doing stuff.'

  The first cop looked at the other cop, who shrugged. 'We'll be back in the morning,' the first cop said. 'First thing.'

  'Visiting hours,' the nurse told their departing backs, 'are from eleven to three.' The second cop, without turning around, flipped her the bird.

  When the nurse finally left, Frank opened his eyes all the way. 'Christ, I've been at quieter spaghetti junctions. The fuck'm I paying Blue Riband for?'

  'Technically speaking,' Bryan said, 'medical staff have access to you twenty-four-seven. It's for your own good.' Bryan the acid-fried former hippy and Frank's current lawyer, on the basis he was the cheapest legal advice of Frank's regular four-ball partners out at Oakwood. Bryan who'd originally come to Frank with the idea of having Madge snatched, then claiming on the insurance. Which meant, it was only occurring to Frank now, it should be Bryan and not Frank lying in a hospital bed with his knee pureed.

  'Frank?'

  Frank turned his head, struggling to peer over the sheeted tent erected over the scaffolding protecting his leg, then glimpsed, with a sinking feeling, Genevieve sitting on a chair beside the window.

  'You let her in? Fucking hell, Bry.'

  'She's claiming common-law, Frank. She's entitled.'

  'I godda a question for you, Frank.' Gen stood up, staggered a little, then pointed an unsteady finger. 'How come the cops're saying you hadda one-way tigget to this Haiti place?'

  'Didn't you hear Bry?' Frank said. 'The fuckers're trying to frame me. They'll say whatever suits 'em.'

  'Why would they say Haiti, Frank? I mean, we were gunna Agapulgo. After you got this ransom. So you shoulda had, the ver' least, two tiggets.'

  'I thought visiting hours,' Frank said to Bryan, 'were eleven to three.'

  'Gen gets special privileges, Frank. Common-law.'

  'We been together,' Frank said, 'what, eight months? Nine? How's that qualify as common-law?'

  Gen, outraged, squiggled herself up from the hips, worked some bounce into the fake tits Frank'd paid for, Pinky and Perky. Again with the wavering finger, Frank half-dazzled by the bling reflecting from the fluorescent light off a ring no bigger than a baby elephant's testicle. 'I find out,' she said, 'you were stiffing me …'

  Bryan said, 'Gen? No one's stiffing anyone. I mean, Frank here has responsibilities, he knows that. Bills outstanding. Debts to pay. Frank?'

  'I've had a bad day,' Frank said, thumbing the doohickey button, wondering what the fuck was holding up the morphine. 'I mean, in case you hadn't noticed, I was shot. By, it shouldn't really matter, but it does, my ex-wife. So I'd appreciate a little peace and quiet to concentrate on the agony I'm in here, y'know, reall
y soak that fucker up.'

  Gen, tottering on four-inch heels, made her way around the bed, leaned in. 'Don't fuggin patronise me, Frank. I won't be fuggin patronised.'

  Frank gagged on the stale gin fumes. 'Bry? Seriously, I'm crippled over here. I can't deal with this right now.' Bryan crossed the room, placed his hands on Gen's shoulders to steer her away from the bed. Frank said, 'Oh, and Gen? It's pahtronise.'

  Gen swung open-handed from the hip, except the Miu Miu dangling from her elbow snagged on the saline drip and pulled her askew, Bryan behind her getting tangled in the general welter so that they both toppled over, came crashing down on Frank's leg.

  Frank, opening his mouth to scream, blacked out so fast he didn't even hear it start.

  Madge

  'I don't know if I can do this,' Madge said as the red-and-white striped barrier pole went up. The car purred onto the airstrip, twin-engine planes looming from the shadows either side, no sign of the Lear jet Madge had been half-hoping for. The headlights picking up the hangar now, heading straight for it.

  'You're already doing it,' Terry said. 'Just relax, it'll be okay.'

  'Please. Can we stop a sec?'

  'Sure.' Terry said, 'Joe? Would you mind pulling in? Cheers.' He waited until the car rolled to a stop, then turned to her. 'What's wrong?'

  'I can't do it.'

  'Sure you can.'

  'To you, I mean.'

  'To me?'

  'What if I'm spotted with you?'

  'You won't be.'

  'But what if I am? You'll get pulled into the whole mess.'

  'How? All I'm doing is helping out a friend, she's terrified of this Rossi guy who snatched her. She needs a few days away until she knows the guy's been caught, it's safe to come back. So I'm making it happen.'

  'Ray told Karen,' Madge said, this being the bit that'd sobered her up shortly before leaving Terry's place, 'that the last guy brought the cops around, he wound up in four different canals.'

  Terry smiled, patted her knee. 'How'll you bring the cops around, Margaret? This cop, Doyle, she told you she'd help with your alibi, right? Just after you shot Frank.'

  'That's what she said. But …'

  'Look, according to Ray, this Doyle wants Frank. The cops're going to be anywhere, it's up Frank's ass for arranging a kidnap, attempted extortion, all that. And you rang the kids, right? Jeanie and Liz. Letting 'em know you'd be away for a few days, they're off to Denver skiing anyway. So why would the cops be looking for you?'

  'There's the money,' Madge said. 'The ransom.'

  'Why would the cops, you were the one was snatched, even think you might have the ransom?' Terry shook his head.' If they're chasing anyone, it'll be Karen and Ray.'

  'You think they will?'

  'I doubt it. They already have Frank, and probably this guy Rossi, Ray said the guy looked pretty bad when they left him behind in that van savaged by the wolf. And just say you're a cop, you have the ex-husband who set you up to be snatched and the three-time loser who did the actual job. That sounds like a result to me.'

  'Except the ransom is missing.'

  'An insurance company's money? No cop's busting a hernia to find that. Besides, the insurance company'll be insured against losing the ransom. Stands to reason.'

  'I want to do it,' Madge said, 'don't get me wrong. I just don't want anyone getting into trouble on my account.'

  'The only way it gets hinky,' Terry said, 'is if the cops or the insurance company know where to find you. This way, flying out of here? We're into London in three hours, and from there we could be going anywhere. No one else knows about the cruise, right?'

  'Just Karen and Ray.'

  'Not even the twins?'

  'The whole point of it,' Madge said, 'it was just me and Karen, getting away from all the shit, the divorce coming on …'

  'So there it is,' Terry said. 'What're you worried about?'

  'Oh, silly stuff,' Madge said. 'Y'know, fleeing the country after shooting my ex, with a guy who puts people in four different canals.'

  'That's just a bogeyman story,' Terry said. 'Joe? Tell the lady I never put anyone in any canals.'

  'It's just a story,' Joe said.

  'Meanwhile,' Terry said, 'I'm sitting here waiting to fly out to Europe with a lady who's reminding me right now of Julie Christie, I think it's her eyes. What're you going to do, change your mind and break my heart?'

  Rossi

  'LeprePorn,' Rossi said, wondering if he was dreaming it, Rossi already out a week and yet to drain the sprouts.

  'Internet-only release,' Melody said. 'That way you keep production costs down and your distribution budget is virtually nil. At-Quim-Two-Birds, that's one of ours. Irish lesbians, what they call niche-niche marketing.'

  'You're a woman in this town,' Sleeps said, 'looking to write-direct? It's a closed shop. I mean, can you name me even one Irish writer-director, she's a woman?'

  Mel in back, hunched forward. Rossi riding shotgun beside Sleeps, a fat spliff smouldering between his fingers. The lights went green. Sleeps eased the Volvo Estate forward.

  'The hardest bit,' Mel said, 'I mean apart from keeping a straight face? Coming up with the names. Like, half the time you're wondering what the original guys were thinking, if they weren't subconsciously wanting to make blue movies all along. I mean, seriously – Eat the Peach? I Went Down?' She shook her head. 'We did PS, I Fucked You 1, 2 and 3 last year. This girl, her husbands keep dying and coming back as ghosts to, y'know …'

  'Fuck her.'

  'Pretty much, yeah. In the third one, the twist is all three come back at the same time.'

  'Like in a gangbang?'

  'Yep.'

  'Except,' Sleeps said, 'she's into it.'

  'Sure, she loves these guys. I mean, she married 'em all. Had a thing, for some reason we never got around to exploring, for exclusively German guys with big hair and fat johnsons. Take the next left,' she told Sleeps, 'then right into the housing estate. It's the third on the left, there'll be a white Fiat parked outside.'

  'But now you're ready to break out,' Rossi said. 'Move into the mainstream.'

  'I've been ready,' Mel said. 'I'm past ready.'

  'With this story,' Sleeps said, 'sounds to me like Bonnie and Clyde, except set in Greece.'

  'With the twist,' Mel said, 'that Bonnie and Clyde, only they're called Judy and Jack, they're into kidnap.'

  Rossi glanced at Sleeps. 'Sounds familiar,' he said.

  'Okay,' Mel said. 'But there's this cop, she's tight with Jack and Judy, at least she thinks she is until they pull a switch, leave her behind handcuffed to the guy masterminding the kidnaps, then take off for a Mediterranean cruise. Not realising they're not the only Bonnie and Clyde in the picture. And this other Bonnie and Clyde, believing the money's theirs, they're following the cop chasing Jack and Judy, who's heading for the Med to track 'em down, get her rep back.'

  'Or,' Sleeps said, 'at this point the cop could just be suspended and schlepping off on holiday, we just don't know. Maybe doing everything she can to forget she ever met this Jack and Judy, they made her a laughing stock.'

  'So where in the Med,' Rossi said, 'is this cruise going from?'

  'Cute,' Mel said, 'but no cigar.'

  'See,' Rossi said to Sleeps, 'this is the bit I'm not getting. We're taking her with us, right? Except she's the only one who knows where we're going.'

  Sleeps considered. 'About the size of it,' he said.

  'That's it there, Gary. See the white Fiat?'

  Sleeps indicated left, pulled in to the kerb. Rossi said, 'So you're hitting us up for points on the bag, you steer us in the right direction and we nail Karen and Ray.' Mel nodded. 'And you're tagging along for the ride, soaking it all up for this movie.'

  'If you were me,' Mel said, 'would you trust you to come back with my share, just hand it over?'

  Rossi conceded the point. 'What I'm getting at,' he said, 'is I'm not hearing you come across. With, y'know, points in this movie you'll be making off
our story.'

  In the end, Rossi volunteering his services as script consultant, Mel agreed to take them on board. No way she was shelling out upfront but she was okay with cutting them in for points if she got a deal, Rossi asking twelve but settling for a back-end of five on the gross.

  'That's gross-gross,' he said. 'Merchandise, the works.'

  'Deal,' Mel said, reaching into the front to shake their hands in turn. 'Okay,' she said, 'just give me ten minutes to pack a bag. Oh, by the way?'

  'What's that?'

  'If we get caught, I'm your hostage. I mean, you dragged me along against my will, right?'

  Melody

  Mel went straight upstairs, pulled the fake Louis Vuitton down off the top of the wardrobe and wiped the dust off with a thermal vest she found in the laundry basket, then threw in the essentials, found her passport, packed a few books, some spiral-bound shorthand pads, a handful of blue Uniballs with the nice flow, then dragged it back downstairs, bumping it on every step.

  She stuck her head around the living-room door, to where her father and two brothers were slumped watching a football game flickering on the TV, all three in roughly the same position, hands clasped on their midriffs.

  'I just got a last-minute deal,' she said. 'I'm off to Greece, flying out tonight.'

  One of her brothers grunted. Her father turned his head in her direction, although without taking his eyes from the screen. 'Who's going with you, love?'

  'Just a few of the girls. We'll only be gone a week.'

  'Need a lift to the airport?'

  'No, that's fine. I've a taxi waiting outside.'

  'You alright for a few quid?'

  'Fine, Dad. Thanks.'

  'Okay.' He beckoned her on as he turned his head back to the TV again. She went across to him, planted a kiss on the top of his head. 'Text us when you get in,' he said. 'Let us know you're safe.'

  'Will do.'

  Mel closed the door again, picked up the suitcase and wheelied it out the front door and down the path. Sleeps got out as she approached the car, went around the back and popped the trunk, took the suitcase from her and lifted it in.