Peterkinney’s walked backwards into the kitchen. Trying to work out how to get the gun away from Glass. Glass might be harmless, but the gun isn’t. Only takes one slip and this goes south fast. He’s obviously emotional. Went and got a gun and wants to show it off. Wants to scare Peterkinney. Fine, scare away. That’s a reasonable punishment for the suffering Glass is going through. But let’s get that gun out of emotional hands as quickly as possible.
‘I heard what happened to Ella,’ Peterkinney’s saying. ‘I really am sorry, Alex; I know how much she meant to you.’
That was supposed to calm things down, but it hasn’t. It’s gotten an angry reaction. A frown from Glass and the gun raised to point at Peterkinney’s head. Peterkinney’s taking an extra backward step. Raising both hands.
‘Okay, look, why don’t you tell me what you want to say. You have something to say, right? Well, you go ahead and say it.’
Glass hadn’t thought this far ahead. There was no plan to say something. Just to shoot. But he does want to talk. Suddenly, for no good reason, he wants to talk. He wants to get it out before it’s too late.
‘You don’t care what I have to say,’ Glass is saying. ‘You just want to delay me. You want to sucker me into giving up the gun. I’m not stupid, Oliver. I’m not one of your dumb muscle. You remember when we met? I was the one that led the way. You were all quiet. Riding along on my coat-tails. I was the one got you into this business. My own fault. But I got you in, because you didn’t have the guts to get yourself in. Have the guts to make money from other people’s effort, yeah. Never the guts to do it yourself. I did it. I was always the one with the guts.’
‘Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You are. Nobody’s saying you don’t have guts, Alex, you do.’
‘Shut up!’ Shouted this time. Fed up of hearing that smug voice coming back at him. Telling him what he wants to hear without any genuine meaning. ‘You lost it, Oliver. You got so far away from that guy you used to be. You ended up killing Ella.’
‘I didn’t kill her, Alex. Honestly, I didn’t.’
‘You did,’ Glass is saying sadly. Lowering the gun half an inch. ‘You killed her. I killed someone too. Yeah. Know what? It’s horrible. Worst thing you can do. It is. It’s horrible. And when you do it, you have to pay a price. That’s how it should be.’
He hasn’t lowered the gun much, but it’s enough to be a temptation. Enough that an impatient man would make a grab. Peterkinney’s taking two steps forwards. Looking to grab the gun, pull it away. Thinking that Glass is just too emotional to stop him. But he isn’t.
Glass was waiting for it. Knew that Peterkinney would be arrogant enough to try something like this. Thinking he could take the gun from Glass. Peterkinney’s made two steps, but not a third. One shot, and he’s falling backwards. It was loud. The shock of it has knocked Glass back a step. A tingling pain in his hands. Watching Peterkinney tumble to the kitchen floor. Holding his hands up to his chest. Breathing so loudly, trying to catch his breath.
Glass is walking towards him. You can see the blood spread out on his shirt, through his fingers. Glass is standing over him, looking down. Waiting for Peterkinney to look at him. Waiting to catch his eye. This matters. It matters because he can’t stop thinking of what was going through Ella’s mind when she died. The confusion and the fear. Knowing she couldn’t defend herself. Peterkinney has to feel that.
Takes the better part of ten seconds for Peterkinney to look up. To look him in the eye. Glass is pointing the gun again. This time at Peterkinney’s head. This time he pulls the trigger twice. There’s no movement from Peterkinney. No reaction. Silence and stillness.
Glass is ignoring the sound of the neighbours shouting in the street. Ignoring everything. He isn’t finished here. If he leaves this flat, he’ll never finish this. Not the way it ought to finish. He won’t move another step.
The horrible thing, what really gets to him now, is that this didn’t feel bad. Didn’t feel good either, but it didn’t feel as bad as killing Bavidge. This should be worse. His friend. But it isn’t. It’s nothing. Maybe because he knows the ending. Ella gone. Peterkinney gone. The end of the life he thought he would have. The only life he wanted to live. Raising the gun and awkwardly putting the end of the barrel in his mouth. A little fumble. Pulling the trigger.
Also by Malcolm Mackay
The Glasgow Trilogy
THE NECESSARY DEATH
OF LEWIS WINTER
HOW A GUNMAN
SAYS GOODBYE
THE SUDDEN ARRIVAL
OF VIOLENCE
First published 2014 by Mantle
This electronic edition published 2014 by Mantle
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-4472-6444-6
Copyright © Malcolm Mackay 2014
Cover photographs: © AJ Zimmerman / Alamy
The right of Malcolm Mackay to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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Table of Contents
CHARACTERS
PROLOGUE
PART ONE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
PART TWO
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
PART THREE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
PART FOUR
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
PART FIVE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
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The Night the Rich Men Burned Page 33