Vixen ib-5

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Vixen ib-5 Page 12

by Ken Bruen


  Her mind asking:

  ‘What are you waiting for?’

  She didn’t know.

  When it had all settled down, she finally moved and broke in through a back window. She could see the blood on the floor and the mess from the many feet that had trampled around.

  A bottle of scotch was left on the table, half full. She tilted it and drank deep. There was very little to see and she decided to head home but then, a picture on the far wall caught her eye. She inspected it and recognised it as a vixen. Was it her jittery state or did the animal have some resemblance to Angie? Whatever, she took it, let it be a scold to how she’d fucked up.

  Hailed a cab and got home in the hour before dawn, the cabbie saying:

  ‘Late to be out, ma’am.’

  Ma’am! Jesus, how old was that?

  Inside, she had a shower and changed into her old cotton pyjamas, the ones with the false scent of homeliness. Got another big drink going and decided to try and hang the picture but hell, it weighed a ton. She turned it over and the back was literally packed solid: how distracted had she been that she hadn’t noticed already? Got a knife and began to hack at the filling until packets of money began to tumble out. The more she hacked, the more money flowed. She began to laugh, thinking Roberts had suspended her without pay… she flung wedges of money in the air, shouting:

  ‘Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.’

  36

  A week later, PC McDonald was home, lying on the sofa, sunk in deep depression, thinking: If I could only get away, I could maybe get some perspective. The post came and among the bills was a padded envelope. He opened it without interest and to his disbelief, saw thick piles of money. A single sheet of paper contained the typed sentence:

  ‘You’re a fox.’

  He got the telephone directory, began to look up travel agencies.

  37

  In Holloway prison, Beth, a prisoner recently blinded by bad home-made hooch, was trying to roll a cigarette. A voice said:

  ‘Let me get that for you?’

  She did.

  Then the cig was put between her lips and the voice asked:

  ‘So, you got any more perfect crimes?’

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