Street that Rhymed at 3am
Page 19
‘Don’t call her a bitch, Tootsie,’ I said. ‘She’d make two of you, gross as you are.’
‘Shut up, Sharman,’ said Tootsie, who came over, grabbed Judith by the hair and slung her on to the divan, then stood over me.
‘You’re a dead man for that, Tootsie,’ I said as calmly as I could under the circumstances, and a lot more bravely than I felt. ‘Dead meat, fat boy.’
He cocked the pistol. ‘Don’t be stupid, man. You’re in no position to threaten me.’
And I wasn’t. And all three of us knew it.
‘No, man,’ he went on. ‘You’re the one who’s going to die. You killed my man, Ramon.’
‘And Clarence at the other place,’ I said. ‘And his tart. She was a fat whore. Relation of yours, was she?’
Tootsie’s nostrils flared and he kicked me in the side. Just one more little pain to add to the whole.
‘Where’s the dope, Sharman?’ he demanded.
‘The dope,’ I said. ‘The McGuffin. The whole point of this fucking exercise. It’s gone, mate. All gone. All burnt up with three of Mr B’s finest in a car crash down Loughborough Junction way. Just ashes.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Au contraire, Tootsie,’ I said. ‘I speak nothing but the truth. The driver missed a bend and the car was wrecked. Look at the state of me, man. That happened when I was thrown clear. The others all died. Cooked. But then you’re used to watching people crash and burn, aren’t you, fat man? Look at what happened to that plane in Chicago. The plane that Judith’s mother and stepfather and little baby brother were on. It was your mates that blew those poor bleeders out of the sky, wasn’t it?’
Judith’s head snapped round at my words.
‘Yeah, man,’ said Tootsie. ‘Sure it was. You knew that already. Now forget that shit. Are you telling the truth about the dope?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, tired. I was fed up by then. What was the point of going on? It was only a matter of time before he finished me off, and maybe that would be for the best. Except for Judith, of course. I looked at her and tried to get something of how sorry I was in the look.
‘Sucker,’ said Tootsie, raising the pistol until I looked down its deadly black bore. ‘You should’ve lied. Now there’s no point in keeping you alive. Get ready to meet your maker.’
‘No!’ said Judith. ‘Don’t you hurt him.’ And she came off the bed, grabbed Robber’s .44 magnum from where Tootsie had left it on the dressing table and held it in both hands, pointing at Tootsie.
87
Tootsie froze, then swivelled his bloodshot eyes in Judith’s direction until he finally turned his massive head to look at her. But the Hi-Power was still aimed at my chest and his finger was still hard on the trigger. But for the first time I sensed real fear in the man.
‘Well, little miss,’ he said in an oily voice. ‘That was clever. I knew I should’ve kept you tied up.’
‘Put the gun down,’ said Judith. ‘Or I’ll shoot you.’
Tootsie laughed a forced laugh. ‘You ain’t gonna shoot no one, little lady. The safety catch is on.’
‘There’s no safety catch on a revolver,’ said Judith authoritatively, and as if to prove the point, she cocked the hammer with an oily click.
Tootsie twitched, so did his trigger finger, so did I.
‘Put the gun down,’ said Judith again.
Tootsie shook his head. ‘No, no, no,’ he said. ‘No little girl’s going to get the better of me. I just don’t figure you’ve got the stuff to pull that trigger. You’re shaking already.’
And he was right, she was. Little quivers going all through her body and hands, and the gun.
‘I’ve got the stuff,’ said Judith, but her voice broke as she said it and Tootsie smiled evilly.
I kept quiet. This was between the pair of them.
Judith licked her lips, but her face was determined. ‘I mean it.’
‘Like hell,’ said Tootsie, and started to bring the Browning round in her direction. Time seemed to slow and I saw Judith’s face as she was as a baby and as a little girl and how she would be as a grown woman. And I wanted to scream, but my throat was frozen, and still the Browning turned, and I saw Judith’s finger whiten on the trigger of the Smith. ‘You killed my mummy!’ she screamed, and the hammer went down on the cartridge and then everything sped up again.
The first bullet took Tootsie in the side, and the recoil of the massive gun slammed Judith back against the wall. But Tootsie kept on turning the Hi-Power and Judith fired again, but the second bullet missed him altogether and chopped plaster from the wall. Then she fired again for the third and last time, and the slug hit him just under his jaw and blew the back of his head off, and he fell on to the carpet at my feet with a thud that shook the house.
‘Citizen’s arrest, motherfucker,’ I said to myself.
Judith dropped the gun and I saw tears in her eyes as she came to me and put her arms around me.
‘Nice shooting, sweetheart,’ I said. ‘But I think you’d better untie me now.’
Copyright
This ebook edition first published in 2015
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© Mark Timlin 1997
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
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978-1-84344-697-2 (print)
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