Coming clean is crossing my mind. I’m always honest to Ken. I think about telling him the truth: telling him Ryan is being held hostage in our apartment until I return with eight million euros. Tell him to keep fucking quiet about it though until I’m finished. That it will save my boyfriend’s life. But my gut’s fighting coming clean.
‘I’m taking two mill from each branch,’ I say to Ken as I wrap my arm around him and head towards the bank’s entrance. I’m bluffing. I have no idea where I’m going with this.
‘It’s a test,’ I continue slowly. I’m trying to buy myself time. Time to think. ‘The … the board have asked me to test security at each bank. They want me to … to see if each manager will hand out two million.’
‘What?’ he says, a smile beginning to show on his face. He looks as if his day just got a whole lot more interesting. ‘So … what do I—’
‘Just get me the money,’ I say, smiling back at him.
‘What, is it good to give you the money? I don’t …’
‘No. No it’s not. Not really,’ I reply. ‘But that’s what I want. I want them to beef up security. I need this to fail. Michelle, Jonathan and Noah have handed it over and I need you to also.’ Ken will do anything for me. I’m sure of it.
‘But won’t that put me in a bad light with the board? I mean, if … if it’s not right to give you two mill … Hang on a minute. It is okay to give you two million though, right? There is no limit we can transfer between banks. So this doesn’t add up.’
‘They’re just testing everybody. Me, you, the other assistant managers. Let’s just get this over with and see what they’re looking for from all of us. I guess they’re testing timescales and … I don’t know. I genuinely don’t know,’ I say, creasing my brow at him as we’re buzzed through the second door. ‘There’s a meeting tomorrow that all of us need to attend. That’s all I know. I haven’t told you about this, okay?’
‘Okay. No problem, Vincent,’ he says. His smile still hasn’t faded, even though he’s as confused as he possibly could be. My improvisation wasn’t great. My story is filled with holes. But I did the best I could, thinking on my feet. Ken is leading me into his office when my iPhone buzzes. It’s Noah. Holy fuck!
My ‘okay’ life stayed okay for a number of months, but it started to wane. I’d only have to hear Ryan rustling around in our kitchen for me to get pissed off with him. Everything he did seemed to annoy me. So, I started to annoy him, purposely. I’d ask him about the progress he was making on the book with more regularity.
‘It’s a work in progress,’ he would repeat.
I didn’t buy it. I also didn’t care. I was just irritating him for the sake of irritating him. I wasn’t even snooping when I opened his laptop one Saturday afternoon when he was out. He said he was off doing some research for his book. Maybe he was. I didn’t give it much thought, to be honest. I was happy he was doing something different and out of my way for a couple of hours. My laptop was on our bed and Ryan’s was nearer to me as I slobbed on our couch, so I picked his up out of pure laziness. There was fuck all on the TV and I wanted to pass a boring afternoon watching shit videos on YouTube.
I searched for the Google Chrome browser but it was nowhere to be seen. I know Ryan likes to use Safari, but I’ve always found it a weak search browser. It was only when I tried to download Chrome that I realised he already had it. Weird. A search through the desktop led me to it in a hidden folder. It kept getting weirder. The browser history was totally blank. There was only one reason for that. He’d been deleting it. I’m not very tech savvy, but I know that much. As it turned out, I certainly knew more than Ryan. Deleting the history only deletes it from the history section of the browser but not from the entire hard drive. I had to Google how to relocate his activity, but it didn’t take long for thousands of URLs to flash up before me. I sat upright on the couch. Ryan had clearly been addicted to a forum called honeypotcommunity. I had to have a snoop. I was gobsmacked. There was an ongoing chat sitting at the top of the first page I opened by two scumbags who called themselves ItalianoStalliano and TeenCum069. They were sharing sick videos of kiddy porn. I could see that from the still screen of one of the videos before even pressing play. Waves of nausea echoed through my body. I couldn’t watch. Instead, I read the discussion these two sick fucks were having. One of them was telling the other how to lure kids through Facebook. I knew Ryan’s novel was supposed to be dark, but I racked my brain to remember if he had mentioned any paedophile subplots in it. I couldn’t think straight. There was a constant pinging sound in my ear. I couldn’t shake it off. Why the fuck would Ryan be reading these forums? What would he get from it? He’d been through thousands of pages of this stuff. So many questions ran through my mind, so much so that I couldn’t answer any of them. I figured Ryan must be trying to get into the mindset of a paedophile for his book. That was the only logical explanation for this sick shit. He must have been reading these forums to understand how these scumbags work, how they operate. I remember feeling certain that Ryan wouldn’t have pressed play on any of the videos. The two cunts exchanging tips on the forum made my blood boil. The discussion was really sick. I scrolled to the top of the page to take note of the home URL of the website. I figured I’d have to ask Ryan about it. That was when I noticed the login details in the top corner. They read: ‘ItalianoStalliano signed in’.
Holy fuck. Ryan was one of these sick cunts!
‘Mr Butler, Jonathan just rang and said you are taking two million euros from every branch today. Did you lie to—’ Noah attempts to ask sternly. I don’t let him finish.
‘Noah,’ I sigh. ‘You’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. You are actually ruining a very good security examination.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Butler. I don’t understand.’ Neither do I.
‘I’ll, eh … I’ll call you back in two minutes, Noah. Bear with me. Do not speak to anyone. Not to any of your staff or to any of the board. I will explain everything in two minutes.’ This is a mess. I take a look at the screen of the phone after I hang up. 11:41. Holy shit.
‘Ken,’ I demand like a sergeant in the army. ‘Get the paperwork signed. Bring it out to me to sign and then let’s get to your vaults as soon as possible, okay?’
‘Okay,’ he replies. He looks perplexed. I don’t have much time to think my way out of this mess.
11:35
Ryan
It’s harder to pick away at the tape on my wrist. But I’m doing the best I can. I think the best way to get this off is to loosen it upwards and slide my arm out. Easier said than done. Each tug painfully plucks a hair from my hand. It’s like mini torture. I could probably be more aggressive in my approach but I don’t want to stir the prick, especially when I’m so close to getting free. If I needed any confirmation that this fucker is as stupid as I felt he was, then having Jeopardy on the TV has nailed it. He’s swept away by the quiz show, not paying any attention to me as he embarrassingly gets each question wrong. He’s a fuckin’ retard.
‘He is author of The God Delusion and The Greatest Show on Earth?’ asks the host. It’s the first question I’ve genuinely listened to. The God Delusion caught my attention. Vincent has a copy. I know he’s never read it, but he tells people he has.
‘Who is, eh … who is – what’s ’is name?’ the prick spits. He keeps pretending he has the knowledge to play along.
‘Richard Dawkins,’ falls out of my mouth. I don’t know why I even bothered. I shouldn’t be engaging with him.
‘Yeah … yeah … yeah, Richard Hawkins,’ he shouts at the TV.
Fuckin’ idiot. Hawkins. This cunt makes me laugh inside, he really does. He’d make a great character for a book. If only I had the balls to write one. He punches the air with delight when the answer is confirmed. He didn’t even get the answer right when given the correct answer. As he’s steadying himself for the next question, I manage to force the thumb of my right hand underneath most of the tape wrapped around my left wrist.
It’s the first time I’ve managed to get in this far. I stretch it upwards as far as I can and try to squeeze my arm out slowly. It’s plucking out every remaining hair on my hand, but I’m making progress.
It’s coming out! It’s coming out!
I’m not sure if it’s relief or nervousness that fills me when I finally find myself free from the chair. It’s probably a bit of both. I’d just been concentrating on getting free for the past couple of hours, but now the real test begins. I stare over at the glass table. The gun is about five feet from him, maybe ten feet from me. But he’s slouched into the corner of the couch. If I move first, I’ll be at the gun before he even notices me. I’m sure of it. I take a moment to play the possibilities out in my head.
When I get to the gun, I’ll shoot at his kneecap.
I don’t want to kill this cunt. I don’t want the mess of a murder charge on my hands. I’m sure I’d be cleared in self-defence, but I’ll just down this fucker and let the cops deal with him from there. I allow myself a deep, silent breath before rubbing my thumbs across the palms of my hands to remove the excess sweat. It’s now or never. Two more breaths and then I’ll leap.
Teencum069 bullied me into believing I was a pussy for not taking advantage of Brady. I knew it was ironic. Somebody who rapes kids calling another guy a ‘pussy’. It reminded me of school. And just like school, I gave in to the bully. My obsession with trying to be liked has always got me into trouble. It makes me gullible. It wasn’t just Teencum069’s taunts that lured me back, it was my fascination with wanting to finally play around with a kid. I watched a hundred different videos of other guys abusing all sorts of kids: fat ones, skinny ones, ugly ones, cute ones, boys, girls. They kept playing in my mind over and over again. I wanted to create my own memory. I couldn’t dampen the urge. I continued to message Brady, as Nicole. But I never arranged another meeting with him. I haven’t arranged a meeting with any kid since then. An alarm seems to go off in my head every time I get to that point. My fascination with kiddie porn lies in just watching it. I haven’t had the balls to rape a child … not yet anyway. I don’t trust myself to not follow through with my urges. I’ve thought about killing myself to end the pain of admitting to myself that I may be a paedophile. I’ve even written a suicide note.
I don’t know why I screech as I leap; it stirs the prick. But he stands no chance. I’m at the gun before him. I end up on my arse, facing him, pointing the gun towards his knees as he tries to get up off the couch. But it won’t fire. I pull the trigger twice before he’s on top of me, punching at my head.
Have I been held hostage by a fuckin’ fake gun?
I know his punches are landing on me, but I don’t feel a thing. I’m numbing to the eventuality of being battered to death. I don’t want to die. At least I don’t want to die today. The cunt pins my shoulders to the ground, using his knees as he straddles my chest. He’s shouting at me as blows continue to rain down on my face and chest. I don’t know what he’s saying. I’ve become deaf. When he releases his grip to get off me I assume he’s done. That’s until I see his large boot come straight towards my face.
11:40
Darragh
I stand over his body, one foot either side of him, and click the safety off on the gun. I don’t know why I make a point of doing that as loudly as I can. He can’t hear me. He’s knocked the fuck out. That was some kick to the face. It was like Paul Pogba. I want to shoot him right now. But I can’t. I need to wait on JR’s instruction. Not long now. Twenty minutes left. I’m out of breath after that. That came outta the fuckin blue, like.
Why the fuck did I leave his right hand untaped?
He musta peeled off all the tape round his ankles and wrist. I duck me head to take a look under the chair he was tied to and see loadsa torn strips of the stuff.
‘You’re a fuckin idiot, Darragh, a fuckin idiot,’ I repeat over and over, stabbing my temple with the barrel of the gun.
I might be goin’ mad. Maybe it’s the coke. I knew I shoulda stayed sober this morning. At least I have everything under control now. I better get this cunt tied back up to that chair. He’s a heavy little fuck. It’s not easy liftin’ a bare body. His skin’s all slippery. Thank fuck he still has his boxer shorts on.
The feeling in the air was quite dead when I returned to JR after killing that rapist. He didn’t greet me like The Boss did after I’d got away with the delivery to Limerick. There was no party thrown in me honour. JR takes his business much more seriously. He had exciting news for me when I returned though. He told me he could fully trust me after I’d carried out the hit, and told me about the most exciting plan I could ever dream of. He wanted me to go fifty–fifty with him on the biggest bank robbery in the history of Ireland. And it was genius. He had been looking into this one for over a year. He was researching Bank of Ireland’s staff first to see how he could pull off a tiger kidnapping theft through them. But he couldn’t find anyone. I didn’t know what a tiger kidnapping was. I thought it was fuckin genius when it was explained to me. He told he wanted to kidnap a bank manager’s wife and instruct the manager himself to rob the bank. But he said the process of taking money out of the Bank of Ireland was complicated and would have taken a longer period of time. That was when he stumbled onto ACB. Being a smaller bank is exactly what made them perfect for this heist. They had only four branches left in Dublin and we were going to take two million out of each of them. He said he even found some pussy-ass gay couple who we could use for the robbery. ‘As easy as taking candy from a baby,’ was how JR explained it to me. I couldn’t see how it could go wrong. I still can’t. Once I keep this fucker tied up, of course. I nearly fucked everything up.
JR has done his research on every aspect of the morning. He followed Vincent and Ryan for weeks, trying to understand their patterns. He even knows the patterns of all the four other bank managers. He’s a fuckin legend. Right now, ACB is being robbed of eight million euros and nobody in this whole city has one fuckin clue about it. In the earlier plan, JR was going to do the kidnapping while I followed Vincent around the banks, just to keep an eye on him. But he was so impressed with how I carried out the murder of the rapist that he felt I was the best man for the more forceful job. He could see it in me that I really wanted to do this part of the job. I told him hundreds of times that I wanted to get me hands as dirty as I possibly could. An eight-million-euro theft, a kidnapping and a possible murder. Me hands can’t get much dirtier than that. I couldn’t wait for this day to come. It was four months ago when JR first said it to me. I’ve read every note JR has taken ahead of this mornin’. We’ve studied every possible scenario. Someday, in the future, I’m going to be just like JR. I’m gonna have me own little apprentice and I’m gonna teach him the genius ways of being a gangster. After all, I’m learning from the best. The Boss was pretty good, I could never deny that, but JR is on a different level. I bleedin’ love the guy.
I’ve eventually got this greasy fuck’s body into a sitting position but not even severe slaps across his face are waking him up. I need his head to stop flopping down towards me. I manage to wrap more tape around his wrists, but it’s difficult to get his legs steady without his body slouching to one side of the chair and falling towards me. His legs are pointing out and forming a stand for himself. That’s the only thing keeping him upright on the chair. I couldn’t give a fuck anymore. I wrap the tape around his mouth to the back of his head once again. I never should have removed that this mornin’. I take a look at the microwave as I’m done. 11:45. Fuckin hell. Fifteen minutes left. I wonder where Vincent is. This is getting too close now. I grab at the phone and dial one.
‘He’s not out yet,’ JR whispers into the phone. He knows. He’s waiting outside the bank.
‘No, I, eh … I’m just wonderin’, ye know, it’s like eleven forty-five. It’s …’
‘Darragh,’ he says sternly. ‘What am I gonna say next to you?’
‘Stick to the plan.’
‘Exactly. Listen, Vin
cent will be coming out of here soon, but if he doesn’t, you need to get ready to shoot that fuck you have there, okay?’
‘No problem,’ I say.
‘It would take Vincent ten minutes to drive back to you from here, so if he’s not out of here in the next five or so minutes, Ryan’s fate is decided. You need to be strong.’
‘I am strong. I will be strong. I’ve got it all under control here, JR.’
‘I know you have,’ he says. ‘I trust you to complete the plan, Darragh. Get yourself ready.’
When JR hangs up I let a spray shoot through my lips, causing them to make a fart sound. That’s what finally stirs Ryan. That’s how much this cunt loves asshole.
‘You’re about to be fuckin killed, lover boy,’ I whisper at him as I reach for the gun.
11:45
Jack
Damn! I missed Vincent going into Mayor Street. I can see his car parked on the opposite side of the Luas tracks. Mayor Street can be a busy-ass street. There’s a Luas stop just a hundred yards away and there are thousands of offices around here. My plan was to stand outside the wine bar across from the branch smoking a vaporiser in an attempt to not look suspicious. So many people smoke outside bars and go unnoticed. But there are too many people already here smoking this morning that I almost get into a conversation. I don’t know why there are half a dozen guys smoking here already. It’s not even midday. They must do a popular lunch inside. I never thought of that as part of the plan. I assumed it would be a quiet bar around this time. I thought they only served alcohol. The last thing I want to do is to get into a conversation with somebody – especially after the Antoinette mess. I ain’t taking any chances. The less I’m seen, and especially heard from, the better. I decide to pace up and down Mayor Street very slowly, with the phone to my ear. I don’t need to call anybody so I just pretend to talk again. I need to steer clear of the CCTV at the Luas stop. I’m waffling some nonsense down the phone when it surprises me by ringing. It’s Darragh. He’s fretting about the deadline again, but I put him straight. I know he’ll shoot Ryan at midday.
The Tick-Tock Trilogy Box Set Page 21