Crime Always Pays

by Declan Burke

  The guy motioned for Ray to switch off. Ray left the engine idling. 'Yassou,' he said.

  'Yassou, friend.' The guy heavy, face like a mushroom pizza, these shoulders he'd swiped off some baby bear. Ray waited. The guy scratched his stubble, sweat-stains showing in the armpits of the rumpled shirt. 'Is there a problem?' Ray said.

  'No problem.' Sounding harsh, maybe Nordic. 'You just took the wrong turn.'

  'That's the commune down there, right? Where the hippies hang out.'

  'That's private property.' No menace. If anything, the guy sounded bored.

  'Okay. But I'm looking for a friend.'

  'Aren't we all?'

  'Sure. But --'

  The guy jerked a thumb over his shoulder. 'People come out here for peace and quiet. That's what they pay for.'

  'What if I went down on tippy-toe?'

  'What if you turned around, went back the way you came?'

  'That way I wouldn't get to see my friend.'

  'If you tell me where you're staying, I'll pass on a message.'

  'I haven't got a place to stay yet.'

  The guy shrugged.

  'How about,' Ray said, 'you ring down ahead, see if she wants to talk.'

  'No visitors, friend.'

  'How about Pyle? He take calls?'

  'Pyle?'

  'Pyle, yeah, with the ponytail.'

  'Why'd you want to talk to him?'

  'Ask him after we're done. He wants you to know, he'll tell you.'

  The guy thought it over. Then he reached in over the handlebars and turned the key, tugged it out and went inside. He came out with a phone, dialling up. Waited a moment or two, listening, then handed the phone to Ray.

  'Pyle?'

  'Who's this?'

  'Ray.'

  'Ray?' A beat, then, 'Fuck're you doing out of bed, man? You trying to kill yourself?'

  'Just looking for Karen.'

  'Same thing, right?' Pyle chuckling. 'Listen,' he said, 'she's not here right now, she must've gone for a walk. You want, I'll get her to buzz you when she gets back.'

  'Appreciate it. Only I don't have a phone.'

  'Where're you staying? She can call there.'

  'I'm not staying anywhere yet. I couldn't just drop by, wait 'til she gets back?'

  'No can do, buddy. Like George says, rules is rules. You'll get me kicked out. Court-martialled and shit.'

  Ray grinned. 'She told you that, huh? She mention I was hung like a Shire horse?'

  'A Percheron's what she said. Tell you what, man – I'm busy here for another hour, then I'll come meet you, we'll grab a beer. You were really in the Rangers?'

  'For a while, yeah.'

  'Cool. And look, if Karen's back by then, I'll bring her along. How's that?'

  'I kind of need to sneak up on Karen at the moment, Pyle.'

  'I hear you. Still want to grab that beer?'

  'Where?'

  'There's a place called Baywatch, I shit you not, it's down on Ormos beach out back of the port. A little cantina operation. Might be they'll sort you out with a place to stay too. Ask for Kosta. Looks like a pirate, sounds like a tank in reverse.'

  'An hour.'

  'Thereabouts.'

  Ray hung up, swapped the phone for the ignition key, kicked the bike to life and walked it around in a semi-circle. 'George,' he said, climbing aboard, 'it's been beautiful.'

  'For you, maybe.'

  Doyle

  'All I'm saying,' Doyle said, 'is you shouldn't have accepted, not on my behalf.'

  'I thought you'd have said yes.'

  'Maybe I would've, maybe I wouldn't.'

  'I would,' Sparks said.

  'You did,' Doyle pointed out. 'Invited yourself, then turned up. On time, too.'

  'If I hadn't,' Sparks said, 'you'd have no one to take it out on. Ray not showing, I mean.' She sucked up some spaghetti, dabbed her napkin into the corners of the mouth. 'Still no word from Niko?'

  'Not since he left that message.' Niko saying he'd been delayed, he'd keep her posted. Short and a long way from sweet, the guy sounding seriously hacked off.

  The restaurant starting to empty out now. Doyle watched one couple pay their bill and take their Metaxas across the road to the beach to sprawl on sun-loungers under the stars. The restaurant open-fronted, a cool breeze wafting in off the bay.

  'Maybe he arrived,' Sparks said, 'saw you and left again. Expecting it to be me on my own.'

  'And maybe he never planned on coming.'

  'He said he would.'

  'Ray's a liar. Compulsive.'

  'He gave me his Scout's honour.' Sparks made the three-fingered salute. 'Dib-dib-dib.'

  'He kidnaps people, Sparks. I mean, this is how he earns a living.'

  'I thought you said he was retired.'

  'I'm talking about his character. How lying, to Ray, comes second nature.' Doyle, despite taking a shower, lowering a couple of frizzies, was still lethargic after her eight-hour siesta.

  Sparks slurped up some more pasta. 'You're just pissed because he left you in the lurch.'

  'The lurch? He left me cuffed to Frank in the middle of the woods.'

  'Some lurches,' Sparks said, 'being worse than others.'

  'See, this is what's bugging me. You knew all this before you let him ride off.'

  'Sure. But this was after he was asking about you.'

  Doyle forked some moussaka around the plate. 'What'd he ask, exactly?'

  'How you were, were you alright. Sounding concerned. Genuine.'

  'Ray'd sound sincere reading a laundry list.'

  'I know. What is it, his eyes?'

  Doyle was in no mood to talk about Ray's eyes, his tigery hazel glints. 'He say anything about Karen?'

  'I thought he was asking about Karen. When he was asking about you.'

  'I mean, where she might be.'

  'Nope. He tried the bike rental place too. No joy.'

  'This is what told you.'

  'Why should they tell him and not you?'

  'Maybe he asked right.'

  Sparks pointed at Doyle's moussaka with her fork. 'You want to change that? Something wrong?'

  'It's fine. I'm just not hungry.'

  Sparks closed one eye adding up. 'Let's see,' she said. 'No appetite. Symptoms of withdrawal. Irritability. Obsessive behaviour. Any nausea?'

  'Leave it, Sparks.'

  'Look at the facts. You're pregnant, in love or you've picked up cholera.'

  'Maybe I just want to be left alone.'

  'You and Dietrich. Another actress.'

  'Mention Ray once more, Sparks, and I'm gone. Seriously.'

  'Okay. You want dessert?'

  'No thanks.'

  'Me neither. Not really.'

  Sparks had the chocolate fudge, Doyle a slice of strawberry cheesecake. Ray arrived in time for coffee. Sparks said, as Ray pulled up a seat, 'There's a rule for a good-looking guy, how he's never actually late, just running behind. You're not gorgeous enough to qualify.'

  'Yeah,' he said. 'Sorry about that. I'm not staying, either.'

  Looking straight at Doyle while he apologised. Doyle shrugged it off, letting him know, but doing it cool, she didn't expect any better.

  'I have to meet a guy now,' he said, 'but just for a beer. How about a drink after? My treat.'

  'Why don't you bring your friend here?' Sparks said. 'The treat'll be all mine.'

  Doyle kept her eyes on Ray. 'Where?'

  'I don't mind.' He nodded across the road. 'The beach?'

  Sparks winced. 'You're not worried about friction burns?'

  Karen

  From behind the boulder Karen couldn't be sure what was in the bales being unloaded off the motorboat. But at getting on for midnight, on a deserted beach, Karen had a good idea they weren't trafficking Tupperware.

  So she backed away, keeping the boulder between her and the beach. Aiming for the ravine, testing each stone before she put her full weight on it. Breathing shallow and fast, blood roaring in her ears.

/>   Then heard a click like there's no other click, felt something solid and cold against the nape of her neck.

  A hand on her shoulder, turning her around. Karen had time to notice three dark holes, one the snout of the gun, the other two being cavernous nostrils under a vulture-beak nose. The gun whipped back then came in fast again, lashing Karen across the face.

  After that, all she saw was velvety black.

  Ray

  Pyle cracked a gag with the barman on his way down to where Ray was sitting on a stool at the corner of the L, then slid inside Ray so he was looking past him out onto the road, the beach beyond, the port away to the left.

  'I'm hoping you're not on any medication, man. Booze 'n' pills, it's a bad mix.'

  'Karen didn't make it?'

  'Still haven't seen her. Can I freshen that?'

  Ray stayed with rum-and-coke. Pyle had a Mythos in a frosted glass, chugging half in one go. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 'I guess,' he said, amping up the southern-fried accent, 'this is where I ask if your intentions are honourable.'

  'Towards Karen or the money?'

  'The money's Karen's, man. They don't get separated.'

  'I'm the one left the money with Karen. I know who's it is.'

  'Cool. So why d'you want to see her?'

  'Make sure she's okay.'

  'She says she's okay.'

  'Karen says a lot of things.'

  'She says she hardly knows you. Or she only knows you ten days, something like that.'

  'We've been through a lot.'

  'She said that too.'

  'This is what I'm talking about. Who knows what she's saying?'

  Pyle drank off his beer. 'A woman doesn't change her mind once in a while, she's a transvestite.'

  Ray called another round, leaving his credit card, not the gold one, on the bar. 'It's not the money,' he said. 'I don't need the money.'

  'Says the man buying drinks on plastic.'

  'Temporary cash-flow glitch. Money's not the issue. Although,' he said, the barman, Kostas, setting them up, 'I wouldn't mind getting my passport back.'

  'She took your passport?'

  'It was her or Melody.'

  'How come?'

  Ray wasn't sure. 'They both got reasons for wanting me gone, but one doesn't want me to leave.'

  'You're betting it's Karen?'

  'I don't gamble, Pyle.'

  'So I hear.' He toasted Ray with the fresh beer. 'Karen mentioned the snatches, how you'd pull them off. Sounds like a neat trick.'

  'I'm retired.'

  'This is where I'm coming from. You're looking for a new challenge. Also, you're ex-Rangers.'

  'Yes to the ex-Rangers. Thanks but no to the new challenge.'

  Pyle sucked froth off his upper lip. 'You just haven't heard yet,' he said, 'how challenging it is.'

  Sleeps

  'We already came this way, Rossi.'

  'Fuck.' Rossi, after an hour spent wandering around the village, the Chora, had a face like a burst ulcer. 'You sure?'

  'From the other direction. That tree with the pink flowers? We already passed that coming down.'

  The village a maze of alleyways, crazy-paved. Sleeps getting snow-blind from the white-washed walls, the windows and doors trimmed in blue. Trekking up steps, ducking into tunnels, the alleys curving away around corners to intersect like so many rollercoaster rides. Sleeps resigned to, at some point, meeting himself coming back.

  Rossi turned another corner and stopped dead. 'Shit – is this the fucking square again?'

  They found a space on a low wall circling a tree and had a couple of Singapore Slings to take the edge off. Rossi pinching out the crease in his strides, at this point dressed head-to-toe in Italian, a light suit, no socks, Gucci loafers for the finishing touch. Sleeps in beige Chino shorts and a white tee, XL, untucked.

  'Why don't you just ring Johnny?' Sleeps said. 'Ask him to get his guy come meet us.'

  'Amateur hour,' Rossi said. 'Giving 'em the giggles back in 'Dam.'

  'You could play it like you were being cool,' Sleeps said. 'Taking no chances, a neutral venue, all this.'

  'Making it sound like we don't trust Johnny.'

  'I don't trust Johnny.'

  'Because,' Rossi said, 'you never did serious time. Don't appreciate the bond between guys celled together. Besides, I been doing some research.'

  'Research?' Sleeps said.

  'Multi-tasking,' Rossi said. 'Like, how long have we been walking up and down the village?'

  ''Bout an hour, maybe more.'

  Rossi nodding along. 'And I haven't once, not fuckin once, had even a whiff of a toke.'

  'Maybe they do their smoking at home,' Sleeps said. 'Private-like, so's they don't, y'know, get nabbed by the cops.'

  'You even seen a cop?'

  'Not yet.'

  'I rest my case.' Rossi lifting Johnny's parcel, putting it down again, to make his point. 'What I'm saying,' he said, 'is there's a niche here. You see it? Johnny's piping in coke, yeah?'

  'Not if you believe Johnny. According to Johnny he's just doing this guy Jochem a favour.'

  Rossi winked. 'This is Johnny's cover. Operating on a need-to-know basis.'

  'So you're trusting him even though he doesn't trust you.'

  'What're you spraffing about, man? He gave us the coke, didn't he?'

  'Yeah, but --'

  'Ask no questions, Sleeps, hear no lies. You ever move up, get to some place there's responsibility involved, you'll see that's how the big boys run it. Nudge-nudge, know what I mean?'

  'Running it like a Monty Python sketch.'

  'A what now?'

  'Forget it.' Sleeps scanned the crowd that filtered out of the alleyways to mill around the village's main square like it was a vortex sucking them in, Sleeps still hoping Mel might wander by. The square fronted by four or five bars with tables outside, each bar with speakers blasting out different tunes, the effect being roughly that of Russian sopranos on a spin-dry cycle.

  Everyone passed through the square at least once every night, the nurse'd said. The girl concerned for Ray, the guy out of bed too early, glad she'd met friends of his who might persuade him to take it easy, maybe come back in for a check-up. Telling them how the girl Melody had gone off alone, abandoning Ray in the bed, unconscious. This leaving Sleeps and Rossi to decide, once Rossi'd been patched up again, whether Mel had pulled a scam on Ray, or if Ray'd just worked a diversion, faking a black-out to let Mel get away first, then follow on, hook up with her later. Maybe, this being Rossi's conviction, with Karen behind it all, pulling strings.

  'Business,' Rossi was saying, 'it's all about what they call identifying a niche, yeah? So I'm saying, Johnny looks after the coke end, maybe even your pills, gets the punters up and buzzed. Then we come in, take care of the chillin'.'

  'The chillin'.'

  'Perxactly. That way there's no conflict of interest. We kick a ten vig upstairs to Johnny, everyone gets well.'

  'And where're we getting the smoke?' Sleeps said.

  'First thing,' Rossi said, 'is we impress Johnny. Deliver this baby,' he patted the parcel, 'all ship-shape and brisket fashion. Then, we're on the in, we put together a proposal.'

  'And go to work for Johnny.'

  'For him? Fuck no. We come in equal partners, what they call pawning our resources.'

  'What about FARCO?' Sleeps said. 'I thought you were going legit.'

  'This is FARCO, Sleeps. You see what I'm saying? Johnny's helping us out, we're helping him … I mean,' he said, 'FARCO was never going to be, like, a hundred per cent legit. You knew that, right?'

  'I was kind of hoping,' Sleeps said, 'it might be mostly legit. Or partly.'

  'We could do it that way,' Rossi said, sipping on his Sling. 'Like, we could wander around the village a little more until we find a magic door into another fuckin universe, where guys like me and you, came up in a home, had to hustle a little once in a while for cigarette money, we don't get the bum's rush every time
we stand still. Y'know? A place where they say, hey, here's a guy needs a break, let's not break his balls this once, see how he works out. 'Stead of saying lookit this guy,' nodding now at a group of well-fed teens, all perfectly gelled hair and swagger, braying so loud they drowned out the Russian sopranos once in a while, 'this guy's who's had it sweet all his life, school and shit, guy's got money falling out of his hole, so let's give him more money, see if he can't wedge that up his hole and stop all the other money falling out. You see what I'm saying.'

  'Except we got no resources to, um, pawn with Johnny.'

  'The fuck're you talking about? We got ten grand coming from Johnny we hand over the snow. Then, we nail Karen, nab the loot, we're coming in with,' he shrugged, 'shit, whatever's fuckin left. But a hundred gees clear, minimum, or I'm selling Karen's kidneys. Plus,' he said, tapping the table with a dirty forefinger, 'the Uzi. I'm going nowhere without the cannon.'

  'You think Karen's still here?'

  'The nurse seen her go off on a bike with this other guy, the ponytail guy. So I'm guessing, yeah, she's around, no one rents a bike then brings it back and fucks off. And once we find Ray, we find Karen. So,' he said, drinking off the last of his Sling, 'tomorrow morning, bright and early, we're back at the ESY for when Ray comes around to see if his passport wasn't filed in the wrong place and shit, like the cute little nursey said.'

  'You seriously think he'd give Karen up? I mean, the guy's been looking out for her all along, man. Why would he stop now?'

  'He's got one arm, we got four. Do the math.'

  'I told you already, Rossi, I don't do muscle. I'm a pacifist.'

  Rossi crossed his eyes in frustration. 'Okay,' he said, 'so you're a spacifist. How's Ray s'posed to know that?'

  'Mainly,' Sleeps said, 'because we didn't muscle him the last time, when we had the chance. And whatever happened to honour among thieves?'

  Rossi pointed at his freshly bandaged ear. 'The man broke a parlay, he's gone rogue.' He stood, shot his cuffs, picked up the parcel. 'You ready?'

  Sleeps nodded. 'Just one suggestion,' he said.

  'What's that?'

  'How about we just ask for directions?'

  Doyle

  'So this guy,' Doyle said, 'you won't tell me his name, wants you to snatch some guy.'