The Accidental Assassin

by Jan Toms

  He hailed another taxi but on the way back into town he decided to stop off and have a drink somewhere. He didn’t relish the idea of hanging around for hours, so he headed for a bar and ordered himself a vodka martini. It was a drink you could rely on, sophisticated, favoured by a man of the world, out on the town, someone in control of his destiny.

  Sitting on a bar stool, he pondered the crazy situation in which he found himself. A woman slid into the seat next to him and ordered a white wine. He glanced at her. She looked polished, glamorous. As he watched, she took out a compact and inspected her mouth – as if while she wasn’t looking her lipstick might have suddenly gone mad and spread itself all over the place. He felt irritated, by women, by his brothers, by the weather, by everything. Picking up his drink, he moved to a seat in a corner, hopefully anonymous. That morning, Sonia had let slip that the Blues Brothers had an outfit at a department store called Something for Everyone. She was a proper mine of information was Sonia. She also told him that the Rodriguez brothers had appealed against their sentence and the case was being heard today. He pretended that he already knew but it was quite a shock. If they won the appeal then the case would be dismissed and they’d arrive home at the same time as his brothers. Then all hell might break loose. The thought jolted him into action.

  Why didn’t he go along now, to their office, see if he could make contact with the other brother, sound him out as to declaring some sort of truce. That would show Harry and Gary what he was made of. ‘No need for you to have hurried back, boys. It’s all sorted here.’

  Buoyed up by the thought, he found another taxi and headed for Something for Everyone.

  When he arrived, he was disappointed to find the store closed. He stood for a while looking in the window, where a beach scene was set up featuring an assortment of clothing, sports goods and suntan products all available inside the store. After a while, he glanced up and saw that lights were still shining on the floor above. Perhaps someone was still there after all. He went back to the main entrance looking for a bell and not finding one, but, to his surprise, when he pushed the door it opened. He stepped inside.

  It indeed seemed to be empty – which was no real surprise as it was now way past closing time – and he wandered through the different sections, making his way towards the stairway. It was covered with heavy-duty carpet and he glided silently up to the next floor that advertised ladies’ fashions, lingerie, and children’s wear. A further set of stairs led to the top floor, electrical goods, bedding and furnishings.

  ‘Hello?’ he called out, but no one answered. He poked his head into ladies’ fashions, wandered around a bit looking for the way through to menswear but not finding it. As he passed the changing rooms he thought he heard a sound. ‘Hello?’ he called out again but no one answered so, cautiously, he pulled back the curtain and looked inside.

  A woman with long blonde hair was seated on a stool gazing into the mirror. Her face, reflected back to him, looked terrified. ‘I’m sorry,’ he started. ‘I didn’t think there was anyone here. I was looking for the owner.’

  He backed up a few steps, afraid that she might start to scream. Her reflection in the mirror held his gaze, her eyes large, stricken.

  ‘Really, it’s alright. I won’t hurt you.’

  Barry had never been in this situation before. He thought that he should go but something made him ask, ‘Do you happen to know where I can find Roger Rodriguez? I really would like to speak to him.’

  The woman shook her head. Barry frowned. There was something not quite right about her. He noticed the shadow on her cheeks, the large, capable hands and the Adam’s apple. Realisation dawned.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘Sorry if I’m interrupting something.’

  To his shock, the woman/man started to cry, clasping his hand across his mouth to hold back some private horror. At heart, Barry was a kind soul. He went closer and held out his handkerchief. ‘Hey, no need for that now.’

  ‘What am I going to do?’ the woman/man sobbed. ‘This is it. When they find out…’

  ‘When who finds out? Are you afraid I’m going to say something?’ He bent closer, took the woman/man’s arm, turned him gently towards him and bent closer to get his full attention.

  ‘Honestly, I won’t say anything.’ By now his face was inches from the made-up face in the golden wig. Behind the grease and powder, someone very young with huge brown eyes was looking back at him, someone vulnerable and needing help. Barry put his arms around him. ‘Come on now, don’t get upset. We’ll sort it out.’

  Later, he couldn’t believe what he did next. The generous boyish mouth, painted in a shade called Heavenly Pink, just cried out to be kissed. The lips beneath his were warm and yielding. The body beneath the turquoise gown so young and tender. Stripped of the bra, freed from the ridiculous French knickers, it was so beautiful that Barry could hardly breathe. As he held the young man’s hand, the man in turn began to lead him from the changing room, across the store and up the stairs to soft furnishings. There, laid out like a superior boudoir, was a large, inviting display bed. Together they fell into it and into each other, loving, soothing, exploring, floating into a world neither had ever suspected existed.

  Barry, cuddling his companion, kissed his damp hair and said, ‘I’m Barry by the way.’ Dodge, snuggling into the warm shoulder, replied, ‘I’m Dodge.’

  Arms around each other, the two fell asleep in the big bed, cushioned from the world, babes in the wood having only each other.

  Eventually, some distant sound woke Dodge, that and the need to pee. It took several moments for him to realise where he was and slowly the entire evening flooded back to him. Panic, disbelief, exhilaration followed each other through his repertoire of feelings. He sat up so that he could look down on the man asleep beside him with, his soft brown hair and rather thin, fine features. Reaching out, he soothed a lock of hair away from his eyes and they flickered open, taking a moment to remember. Barry smiled.

  ‘Hello.’

  By way of response, Dodge kissed him. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. Reluctantly, he left the bed and went along to the toilets. When he got back, Barry was waiting for him and he slid beneath the sheets, into Barry’s arms, melting into his body. ‘You’re amazing,’ said Dodge,

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ said Barry.

  Inside the make-believe bedroom the light was a constant, soothing yellow designed to give an impression of peace and wellbeing. It gave no indication of the time. The first thing Dodge knew was the sound of voices somewhere in the store. He opened his eyes, frowned, blinked and then remembered.

  ‘Omigod!’ Like a greyhound released from the traps, he flew out of bed, hopping from one leg to the other and looking around. He remembered that his clothes were downstairs in the ladies’ changing room and, naked, he raced down the steps and retrieved them, racing back up again, by which time Barry was dressed and struggling to put on his shoes.

  ‘What shall we do?’ Barry glanced all around, looking for a way out. ‘I’m done for if they find me. Is there a fire escape?’

  Dodge nodded and together they set off along a corridor and down some functional stone steps until they came to an external door closed with a bar. Barry heaved the bar up, pushed the door open and they stepped out into the early morning light. They stumbled down the iron staircase and landed in the street.

  ‘Let’s get a taxi.’ Barry took charge, dragging his lover around to the main street where the rush-hour journeys were in full swing. A moment later, he stopped and banged his forehead with the palm of his hand in a dramatic gesture. ‘Omigod! I should have been at the airport. I’m supposed to be collecting my brothers.’

  ‘Christ! I’m supposed to be waiting for news about my brothers!’ They looked at each other. Barry frowned. ‘You’re not Roger Rodriguez?’

  Dodge nodded. ‘And you – you can’t be Barry Hickman?’

  ‘I am.’

  The whole thing was too much for both of the
m. They stood staring at each other, shaking their heads. Finally Barry said, ‘This is like Romeo and Juliet, you know? Two warring families and the lovers star-crossed.’

  The image appealed to Dodge’s romantic nature, and he said, ‘This won’t make any difference to us – will it?’

  Barry shook his head. ‘We won’t let it,’ he said. ‘Now come on, let’s find a taxi.’

  In the cab, Barry took his hankie and wiped off as much of the make-up as he could from Dodge’s face. He used spit, like Dodge’s mum used to do when he had a sticky mouth. Dodge felt warm and looked after.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve asked him to drop me off at our offices and then to take you on home. Is that alright?’ Dodge nodded, trusting, wanting his new god to hold him tight and make everything alright.

  ‘When will I see you?’ he asked, suddenly fearful.

  ‘Later today. Now give me your telephone number.’ Seeing the anxiety in the younger man’s face, Barry said, ‘Look, if I don’t speak to you before, I’ll meet you in the El Sombrero cocktail bar at seven. I promise I’ll be there.’

  The taxi pulled into the kerb beside some shabby terrace and Barry prepared to get out. In spite of the fact that the taxi driver was looking too often into his rear view mirror, Barry gave Dodge a kiss, patting his arm.

  ‘See you later, then, and take care.’

  Dodge nodded, too filled with emotion to speak. As Barry stepped through the flaky wooden door, the driver asked Dodge, ‘Where to, mate?’ Dodge gave his home address and sat back, glowing.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Dodge was in big trouble when he arrived home. Instead of an empty house, he found Reggie and Randy there. Reggie was fuming.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’

  Dodge didn’t know what to say. His thoughts were still elsewhere, curled up with Barry, feeling for once like a millionaire. Everything else that cried out for his attention was the other side of the coin – worry, blame, humiliation.

  ‘I – I’m afraid I got held up,’ he started lamely.

  ‘And what was so important that you had to do that rather than come and pick us up?’ Reggie barked out.

  ‘I was trying to sort things out, on the Pretty Boys’ front.’ He felt an inspired moment. Wasn’t that what he had been doing, seeking some sort of truce with the Hickman brothers? Exactly how was something he would rather not explain.

  Reggie was looking hard at him. ‘You got make-up on your face?’

  ‘No.’ He felt his skin colouring beneath the remaining blusher.

  Randy came to his rescue. ‘You been out with some girl, Dodge? Good for you.’

  Dodge remembered his painted nails and quickly pushed his hands into his pockets. He thought that there was some nail polish remover in the bathroom cabinet that had been used as a solvent for something or other. Thank God for that.

  ‘I need the toilet,’ he said, quickly making his escape.

  Somehow he managed to get most of the polish off his nails, and he washed his face thoroughly. He still had no idea what he was going to say.

  When he got downstairs, Reggie was on the phone. As Dodge came in, he put the receiver down. ‘Were you the one to lock the store last night?’

  Oh lord, here we go. Aloud he said, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you lock the front entrance?

  ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘Well, the manager has just been on to us. He’s got the police there. Someone broke in during the night.’

  ‘Did they take anything?’ he was barely able to hear above his racing heart.

  ‘Sounds more like vandals. Looks like some bastard actually slept in the bedroom display.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘There is no sign of a break-in. Did you lock the door?’

  ‘Of course I did,’ he repeated. In an inspired moment, he added, ‘Perhaps someone was already hiding in there when I locked up.’

  ‘Didn’t you check round?’

  ‘I couldn’t check every nook and cupboard in the entire building, could I?’

  For once, Reggie seemed to accede and Dodge was glad of the breathing space. He could smell Barry’s aftershave on his jacket and a wave of pleasure threatened to engulf him.

  ‘Are you taking this seriously?’ Reggie challenged him.

  Randy said, ‘I reckon our Dodge is in love. Met the girl of your dreams, have you?’

  ‘Something like that.’ He could not control the blush at the thought of the object of his dreams, or the anxiety about what would happen if ever his brothers found out.

  Dodge felt guilty that he hadn’t hung out the flags or made an effort to celebrate the boys’ release. By way of compensation, he said, ‘I’ll take you out for a meal,’ then, remembering his date with Barry, he added, ‘Let’s go out for lunch.’

  ‘Why not tonight?’

  That blush again. Randy was there before him. ‘Dodge has got a date, haven’t you? He doesn’t want us along.’

  Reggie eyed him shrewdly. ‘I reckon we should inspect this girl. She must be something special to have captured Mr Fussy here.’

  Dodge didn’t know what to say. His life suddenly felt intolerably complicated. He needed to talk to Barry and find out what he was thinking. For a micro-second he wondered if he was making more of this than it was but in the same instant he knew that the feeling was mutual, that, like him, Barry had fallen instantly in love. One way or the other they had to get away.

  Reggie was lining up some plan with Randy. He turned to Dodge. ‘You know how to get in touch with Vincenzo, don’t you?’ Roger nodded, wondering what was coming next.

  Reggie turned back to Randy and a low discussion continued. Dodge was only a couple of feet away but he felt excluded, the big boys making their own plans. Sitting back, Reggie said, ‘What have you been arranging then? What’s your big plan to sort out the Hickmans?’

  ‘I – I thought about a meeting, try to iron things out.’

  Reggie snorted. ‘Yes, I bet they’re only too willing to meet now that Randy and I are back on the scene, but that ain’t good enough. They were only too keen to stab us in the back when they thought we were out of action. Now it’s our turn.’

  ‘What are you planning to do?’

  ‘Fix up some sort of rendezvous and get Vincenzo to pop along and then pop them all off.’ He sniggered at his joke.

  Dodge felt dizzy. He had to stop this. He had to protect Barry at all costs. Reggie said, ‘Give me the contact address and I’ll set it up.’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Dodge waited for Reggie to override him but amazingly he shrugged and said, ‘OK, time you showed us what you’re made of.’

  Oh help – where was this all going to end?

  Harry was furious. As Barry walked into the boardroom he found both his brothers sitting at the table and Harry immediately launched into a tirade.

  ‘And why the fuck didn’t you send a car to pick us up?’

  ‘I did. I went myself last night and the flight was delayed.’

  ‘So where were you this morning? Where the fuck have you been?’

  The door opened and Sonia slithered in, silent and malicious, hoping to enjoy the fun.

  ‘What do you want?’ Harry’s tone was less than welcoming and Sonia looked affronted. Clearly she had been expecting a better reception from her lover. Barry felt better.

  ‘I’ve been sorting something out,’ he said, not sure what else he could add.

  ‘Oh yes, and what’s that then?’ Harry squinted at him. His eyes looked bloodshot. Clearly he hadn’t slept on the plane and his feathers were ruffled.

  ‘I’ve been to see Roger Rodriguez.’

  ‘That little poofter. What did you hope to get out of that?’

  More than you can ever imagine, Barry thought. Aloud, he said, ‘His brothers are due back at any moment. He would be prepared to negotiate some sort of settlement.’

  ‘Oh he would, would he?’ Harry’s eyes narrowed. ‘What
sort of settlement?’

  ‘I suggest we get together and thrash it all out,’ Barry said.

  ‘I suggest we get hold of Vincenzo and wipe them all out.’ Harry sat back with a self-satisfied expression. ‘Pop agrees. He says we’ve got to eliminate them, every last one – even your precious Roger.’

  ‘He’s not my Roger,’ Barry started but his face flamed at the thought and he hoped that he was. He could still smell the perfume that Dodge had been wearing. ‘What’s that scent, Dodge?’

  ‘Parisian Ecstasy.’ It was well named. They had made love then, with the perfume in his nostrils and his senses blown away by the joy of it all.

  ‘Anyway,’ Harry’s voice cut into his reverie. ‘Give me the contact details for Vincenzo and I’ll set it up. Now, before they expect it.’

  ‘I haven’t got it here,’ said Barry. ‘Anyway, I can arrange it. Just tell me where and when and I’ll get it organised.’

  Reggie had a call from some crony of his and, to Dodge’s relief, he arranged to meet him that evening. That left Randy, but his brother was much more understanding. ‘You go on out and meet your girlfriend, Dodge. I know you don’t want me hanging about. You go and enjoy yourself. We’re just glad that you’ve found someone to take an interest in.’ He paused. ‘To be honest, we were beginning to wonder – well,’ he sought around for the right words. ‘We thought you might be, you know – batting for the other side.’

  Inevitably Dodge blushed, but he managed to laugh it off.

  ‘What’s her name?’ Randy asked.

  ‘Barbara.’

  ‘Has she got a friend? I could do with a bit of how’s your father. Perhaps I’ll go to one of the clubs and see what’s on offer.’

  Dodge didn’t argue. There was a hollow under his ribs, wondering how long before his secret came out. He wanted to run away from it all, the gangs, the violence, Reggie, but he didn’t know where they could go – it would have to be they – him and Barry. Please God let it happen!

  As promised, Barry phoned in the late afternoon.