Diamond let him go, confident he couldn’t get far. He dragged Kenny’s body under cover and moved the Ford out of sight; he didn’t want any curious passerby sticking his nose in. Then he followed Greco into the bayou.
The Fox was easy to follow. He’d panicked and his blundering path was as clear as a swathe scythed through the brush. Diamond took it easy, knowing he’d catch up before long, giving him all the time in the world to imagine death reaching for him. He wanted Greco reduced to a blob of shivering jelly.
Diamond hummed Twelfth Street Rag as he ghosted between trees hung with Spanish moss like a gauze veil. He was glad he’d stopped along the way for a large bowl of gumbo, chicken soup thickened with okra. He pushed through broad palm leaves and bushes, gun in hand. A vile stink arose from brackish water as if something had died and rotted there. Small rodent eyes watched him pass.
The ground was marshy and he trod warily, remembering what had happened to Beau Haggar. Rain dripped from branches that became a waterfall in every clearing.
As he squelched through soft sticky mud he glimpsed an alligator, grey snout breaking the surface of the bayou.
It was hot and humid and his shirt stuck to him. The dark canopy made visibility poor and, the further he penetrated the everglades, the more Diamond was reminded of the green hell of Vietnam. He was soaked to the skin and sweat poured off him.
He pushed on, past mangroves with swollen roots with insects buzzing about his ears. He heard a distant screech of wildfowl. Beyond a clump of canes he caught sight of Greco, barely ahead of him. The Fox was out of condition for this kind of slog, winded and gasping for breath, his expensive thin-soled shoes slipping and sliding in the mud. Diamond closed the gap between them like a remorseless Nemesis.
Vines straggled along cypress and oak as he ploughed through a rank-smelling sludge of rotting vegetation. Greco paused, leaning on the bole of a tree, looking wildly about. His pale face glistened with moisture and his eyes showed terror as he watched Diamond loom out of the rain-curtain, revolver cocked and ready.
His legs trembled and he staggered as he lurched into motion, trying to get away. He had a stitch in his side, but he kept going, driven by fear. His legs buckled and he grasped at a sapling, panting for breath. Knowing he couldn’t escape, he turned in desperation, pleading.
‘Five thousand bucks, Wash . . . ten thousand . . . I’ll pay you anything you ask, anything . . . just let me live.’
Diamond lifted his revolver and took careful aim. His finger tightened on the trigger. Greco had put Chelsea at risk and didn’t deserve to live. Then he remembered Cave’s words — ‘What you’ll need are names to go with the faces’ — and paused.
‘Names,’ he said flatly. ‘Give me the names of the men involved in the bank robbery in Baton Rouge.’
The Fox stared at him with disbelief showing in his eyes. How could Diamond — how could anyone — know that he’d got Madden’s team together? He’d been so careful . . .
Diamond took a step closer and the barrel of his revolver loomed huge and threatening.
Greco babbled, reeling off names. ‘Madden was the organiser. Blackie Hendriks, Ted Paley, Woody, Skip and Violets.’
Diamond smiled in the rain, on his way to the reward money, and it was like a shark showing a mouthful of teeth; he felt good seeing Greco reduced from untouchable to nothing. He remembered Pierre’s blind daughter, his cats slashed and gutted, his office burned down and Chelsea used as bait to trap him.
And put his revolver back in its holster.
Greco sighed with relief, swaying. ‘That’s good, Wash, good. I’ll see you right —’ Diamond laid big black hands on him and lifted him bodily into the air.
‘Wash! What are you . . . doing?’
With contemptuous ease, Diamond hurled him far out into the bayou. Greco landed with a splash, and sank. When he surfaced, he spat out muddy water.
‘Help! I can’t swim!’
He went under, bobbed up again.
A grey log-like form cut through the water with deceptive swiftness. A corrugated tail lashed the surface and great jaws opened to reveal ranks of shiny serrated teeth.
Leon Greco, fighting for air as he sank and rose again, saw the alligator coming for him. His eyes bulged and he screamed his terror. There was a flurry of white water, suddenly stained red as he was pulled down.
Diamond watched a hand rise briefly, as if waving goodbye, then that too vanished beneath the surface of the bayou.
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Enforcer Page 13
