The Perfect Kill (A Creasy novel Book 2)

by A. J. Quinnell

‘Somewhere to further his education.’

  Chapter 21

  Joey’s mood was black enough for Creasy to notice. They were working on the farmhouse together. It was a Thursday and Michael was in Malta at Fort St Elmo. They were building a dry-stone wall, to terrace a small garden.

  ‘What’s your problem?’ Creasy asked curtly.

  Joey lifted a stone for the wall and turned to look at him. Both were shirtless in the hot sun, both sweating.

  ‘Why not me?’ Joey asked.

  ‘Why not me, what?’

  The younger man heaved another stone up on the wall and said, ‘Why not train me for the job?’

  ‘What job?’

  ‘You know fucking well what job. I’m not stupid, Creasy. I know why you remarried so soon. I know how much you loved Nadia . . . I just hope I can love Maria that way . . . I’ve known since I was a boy I know what you did in Italy . . . how your mind works. There’s no way you’re going to let them get away with killing Nadia and Julia. You’re getting on a bit, so you’re training Michael to help you. He goes to Malta twice a week to Fort St Elmo.’

  ‘He told you that?’

  Joey shook his head.

  ‘He didn’t have to. I have a friend in George Zammit’s unit. He told me. Besides, George Zammit’s my cousin.’

  ‘He told you as well?’

  ‘No. But when I asked him, he didn’t deny it. Just refused to talk about it.’

  They both lifted up stones for the wall, and with great bitterness Joey asked, ‘Why not me? Why Michael? I’m young and fit and I have a better motive. Nadia was my sister and Julia my niece. I loved them as much as you did in a different way . . . why not me?’

  He reached down to pick up another stone at his feet, a very heavy stone. Creasy moved over, picked it up and heaved it up onto the wall. He turned and grinned at the younger man.

  ‘So I’m getting old am I?’

  Joey did not smile back. Grim-faced he persisted.

  ‘Why not me?’

  Creasy answered.

  ‘It’s true that you’re not stupid, so use your goddamn brains for a change instead of your prick and you’ll know why.’

  He used his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead and went back to building the wall.

  They both worked in silence for five minutes. Joey’s face was still sullen.

  Finally Creasy said quietly, ‘Your parents had two daughters and a son, and they had a granddaughter. They lost both daughters and their granddaughter. They’ve only got you left. All their love is centred on you and beginning to centre on Maria.’

  He heaved another stone up and said sternly, ‘Now listen to me, you prick, we’re gonna finish this house in about two months. Since I’ve gone against Gozitan tradition and thanks to your mother got away with it, you’re going to get engaged to Maria next week. You’re going to marry her a month later. She’s going to have a baby nine months after that.’

  With a grunt he lifted up a heavy stone. ‘If not,’ he said, ‘I’ll personally pull your prick off.’

  They worked on in silence for a few minutes and then Creasy muttered, ‘You know what I think of your parents. I never had much family and what I had is all gone. Paul and Laura are the only family I’ve got left... and I suppose you.’

  Joey smiled slightly and asked, ‘And what about Michael? He’s your son now.’

  Creasy’s answer was abrupt.

  ‘He’s a weapon. Or he will be in about six months.’

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘That’s all.’

  The young man turned to look at him and asked, ‘You have no feelings for him at all?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘And for Leonie?’

  ‘None. She’s just a necessity.’

  They carried on working in silence and then Joey mused, ‘You stitched me up with this house. You knew damn well that having rebuilt it I’d want to live in it. You gave me all that shit about arches and beams and all the arguments about where the kitchen and the main bedroom should go. You made me argue. You made me get involved. You knew fucking well what you were doing.’

  Creasy wiped more sweat from his face and grinned.

  ‘Are you unhappy about it?’ he asked. ‘After all, she’s a damn fine girl. Too good for you, I’d say. She’d have done better with Mario the policeman. He’s better looking and he’s got a steady job.’

  ‘He’s a prick,’ Joey answered and then smiled. ‘No, I’m not unhappy, and I’ll do what you say. A week next Saturday we’ll get engaged and a month later we’ll get married. Tonight I’ll go and see her parents and make the arrangements.’

  ‘Are you sure she’ll accept you?’ Creasy asked seriously.

  Joey just grinned and lifted up another stone.

  A few minutes later Creasy said, ‘I won’t be able to help you down here next week. Leonie’s going to Malta to visit a friend and I’m taking Michael to Comino.’

  ‘You’re staying at the hotel?’ Joey asked in surprise.

  Creasy shook his head.

  ‘No, we’ll be staying on the other side of the island.’

  ‘But there’s nothing there. It’s totally barren.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Creasy answered. ‘I’ll teach him how to live off the land and from the sea. What plants are edible and what plants are poisonous. How to survive in the open with nothing but a couple of fishing lines and a knife.’

  ‘But there are hardly any plants there,’ Joey said. ‘It’s just rocks and limestone . . . garigue.’

  'There are plenty of plants there,’ Creasy said. ‘You just never noticed them, and there’s the sea and there are fish in the sea. A man who knows how could live there to old age. Don’t forget, Joey, that there’s also animal life over there. Rabbits, mice, rats, snakes and even grasshoppers.’

  Joey’s face showed astonishment.

  ‘You’d eat rats, mice, snakes and grasshoppers?’

  Creasy nodded.

  ‘If necessary. I’ve done it before. In some African countries, a barbecued rat is considered a delicacy and roasted grasshopper is a tasty dish.’

  Joey was intrigued.

  ‘You mean you’re going over there with nothing except a couple of fishing lines and a knife?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Nothing else at all?’

  ‘Nothing. Just the clothes we’re wearing.’

  ‘What about water? The only drinking water on the island comes out of a bottle in the bar at the Comino Hotel.’

  ‘We’ll find water.’

  Joey laughed.

  ‘The government has been trying to find water over there for years. The hotel had to build its own desalination plant. You’ll both die of thirst in a few days.’

  Very seriously Creasy asked, ‘You’re a farmer, Joey, where would the plants on Comino get their water?’

  ‘From the ground,’ Joey answered. ‘During the rainy season; then they store it for the dry season.’ He looked up at the clear blue sky. ‘And Creasy, the rainy season is over. It’s unlikely to rain now until September or October.’

  ‘Where do rabbits get their water from, Joey? . . . there are rabbits on Comino. Where do rats, mice, snakes and grasshoppers get their water?’

  Joey thought about that and then asked, ‘Where?’

  ‘From the plants that store the water. They know very well which plants store the water best and how to get at it; besides, there are ways of drinking sea-water if you know how.’

  Joey lifted up another stone and positioned it carefully on the wall. Building a dry-stone wall is like constructing a jigsaw puzzle. Every stone has to fit exactly. He looked over the wall at the island of Comino, two miles away.

  ‘Can I come with you?’ he asked.

  Creasy glanced at him and then said, ‘If you’re getting engaged a week on Saturday you’re going to be damn busy. Besides, Paul needs you here.’

  Joey said, ‘Creasy, you should know that engagement parties and weddings here are arrange
d one hundred per cent by the couples’ mothers, if I even tried to interfere I’d get a clout from both of them. As for the farm, I’ll get a friend in to help Dad. He’s out of work. I’ll give him the meagre pittance that Dad gives me for slaving away twelve hours a day.’

  ‘Meagre pittance? You’ve got two horses that you race at the feasts, a Honda 250 motorbike and that Toyota which you bought a couple of months ago.’ He gestured at the almost finished farmhouse. ‘And no doubt a few days after you get engaged, Paul will sign this place over to you. It’s worth at least thirty grand. Don’t give me that shit about a pittance.’ Joey grinned and then his face turned serious again. ‘Can I come with you, Creasy?’ he asked again. Creasy realised the young man wanted to show his commitment. He chose his words carefully, put his hand on Joey’s shoulder and said, ‘Yes, you can come. Michael would like that . . . and so would I. Joey, when this business starts in earnest you can definitely be of help. When Michael and I leave, and that could be many months away, I want you to move into my house and set up a sort of operational base. There will be messages coming and going from different parts of the world. While we’re in Comino, I’ll bring you up to date on the situation and tell you all I know. Then I’ll keep you up to date as it unfolds. I’ll take you totally into my confidence.’

  He moved his hand from the young man’s shoulder and gently slapped his face.

  ‘You’ll be part of it, Joey. The Gozo part. A very important part ...even a vital part. There might even be some danger. The people who put that bomb on Pan Am 103 know that I’m coming after them. They don’t know where I am or where I live. If they find out, my house will become a target. You’ll have to take precautions.’

  ‘Who are they?’ Joey asked, the anger showing in his eyes.

  ‘I’ll brief you on Comino,’ Creasy answered, ‘and also about the precautions you’ll take. Now this friend of yours who’s in George Zammit’s squad, what did he tell you about Michael?’

  'That he’s damn good,’ Joey replied. ‘He gets a lot of personal attention from George and the other instructors.’ ‘What’s your own opinion about Michael?’

  The young man concentrated and then answered, ‘I like him. He doesn’t make friends easily, and neither do I, but I think we’re going to become good friends. He’s smart and something of a loner.’ He smiled. ‘A bit like you. Does he know what he’s getting into?’ Creasy nodded.

  ‘He knows exactly what he might be getting into, it’s possible he might get into nothing. It’s possible that I can do the job myself. I’m not that old yet.’ Joey smiled and asked, ‘Will you be my best man?’ Creasy nodded solemnly.

  ‘I’ll be honoured and I’ll kick your ass if you don’t make me godfather to your first child.’

  ‘It’s a deal,’ Joey answered, ‘and I’ll ask Michael to be a witness at the wedding . . . you’ll have to buy him a suit . . . by the way, he lost his virginity.’

  ‘ I guessed that . . . ’

  The young man was looking across at Comino again.

  ‘It’s going to be an interesting week,’ he muttered.

  ‘It is,’ Creasy agreed. ‘And don’t get any ideas about sneaking off in the night to the hotel bar.’

  Chapter 22

  TWO NIGHTS LATER, Leonie was eating fresh lobster with her friend Geraldine in the luxury of the Coral Reef.

  Creasy, Michael and Joey were eating black snake on the eastern cliffs of Comino.

  It was not essential that they ate snake, because during the afternoon, they had caught two dozen Rozetta fish in the bay of Santa Maria. Rozetta is a great delicacy, resembling a sole but much smaller. It is not fished commercially and so is a rarity. Both young men were looking forward to the evening meal but on the way back to the campsite in the early evening, Creasy had spotted the black snake away to his left. He had sent Joey and Michael off in two arcs to get behind it and to drive it towards him. It had slipped down a crevice in the limestone rock. They gathered some dry pieces of wood and Creasy lit a fire, very close to the crevice. He then put some dry moss on the fire, which created a lot of smoke. He positioned himself over the crevice and had Michael fan the smoke into the crevice. Within half a minute, the snake shot out and Creasy had grabbed it just behind the head. Its three feet of length coiled itself around his arm. He brought its head to his mouth and bit it behind its eyes. The two young men watched in awed fascination. They knew the snake was not poisonous. It was the only variety found in the Maltese Islands and legend has it that when Saint Paul was shipwrecked on Malta, he was bitten by such a snake, which at that time was very poisonous. The legend goes that Saint Paul did not die, because he extracted the poison from the snake and placed it on the tongues of Maltese women. Maltese women are notorious gossips.

  After the snake was dead, they moved back to the camp on the cliffs.

  The camp was a simple shelter, open to the sky. Because of the season, they needed no protection from rain, but still Creasy instructed them how to build shelters for different climatic conditions. He taught them about water run-off and prevailing winds. He taught them how to retain body heat and how little food and water a man needs to live on. He taught them how to make a fire without using matches, just the friction of heat between two pieces of dry wood.

  ‘What if it was really cold?’ Michael asked . . . ‘and there wasn’t enough wood to keep a fire going all night?’

  ‘Do you remember a US rock group called ‘Three Dog Night’?’ Creasy asked.

  Both young men nodded.

  ‘You know how they got their name?’

  The young men shook their heads.

  ‘Well,’ Creasy said, ‘on a cold night in the outback, a shepherd would sleep with a sheep-dog hugged close to him, to get warmth from its body. On a very cold night, he would sleep with two dogs, one on each side. On a freezing night, he would sleep with three dogs. One on each side and one on top. Hence the expression, ‘It’s as cold as a three dog night’.’

  ‘But we don’t have any dogs,’ Michael said.

  ‘No, but we’d use each other,’ Creasy answered.

  He gestured at the ground.

  ‘We would dig out a depression, about two feet deep, and then line it with leaves and moss. We would sleep in it, side by side, after having pulled the loose earth over our bodies. It would be very cold at first, but after half an hour or so, our natural body heat would create a warmth.’ He smiled.’ It would be a three dog night, but if it ever has to happen, I’d prefer to be stuck with a couple of good-looking girls, and not two bums like you . . . fact is I’d even settle for a couple of good-looking sheep-dogs.’

  He had showed them how to skin the snake and take out its innards. He then chopped it up and tossed the pieces into the fire. From the twigs of wood, he then devised three sets of chopsticks. He taught them how to use them and then said, ‘Don’t let it cook too long, or it loses its nutritional value.’

  After a minute, he reached with his chop-sticks into the embers of the fire, selected a piece of snake, popped it into his mouth and chewed contentedly. The two young men were looking at the fire with great distaste.

  ‘Imagine you’re eating eel,’ Creasy said, ‘because that’s exactly what it is. An eel that lives on land.’

  First Michael then Joey reached forward and picked up a piece of snake. After munching for a few seconds Joey gagged and spat it out. Michael kept munching and then swallowed.

  He said, ‘I never tasted eel, but this tastes better than some of the stuff I’ve eaten at the orphanage'

  He smiled a secret smile, ‘And it tastes better than spinach.'

  Creasy was looking at Joey, who was looking at the two rows of Rozetta laid out by the fire. The young man sighed and shook his head and then reached for another piece of snake. This time he managed to swallow it.

  Creasy relented.

  ‘Put the Rozetta on the fire, Joey,’ he said. 'Tomorrow the first course will be roasted grasshoppers, followed, hopefully, by rabbit. At dawn I’ll
show you how to track and then trap rabbits.’

  Chapter 23

  STELLA ZAMMIT’S FORTIETH birthday was a watershed. Creasy was very fond of her and George, and as a present had bought her a beautiful ceramic pot which he had found in an antique shop in Rabat. Leonie had noticed that he seemed more relaxed than at any time since she had first met him.

  As they drove to Sliema, he asked, ‘Are you having a good time?’

  She smiled, ‘Geraldine’s great fun . . . she makes me laugh. Last night we even went to a disco.’

  ‘Did you meet anyone interesting?’

  ‘Not really. But it was fun. Geraldine met a very nice Maltese chap. She’s having dinner with him tonight. I think he’s a bit of a playboy, but she’s a bit of a playgirl.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Joe Borg,’ she answered, ‘I was slightly worried because he has business interests in Gozo . . . but I’ve never met him and he doesn’t know of my connection with you.’

  ‘I know him,’ Creasy answered. ‘He’s a good guy.’

  They drove in silence for a while and then she asked, ‘And how was your week?’

  ‘It was good,’ he answered. He glanced at her and then went on, ‘We went to Comino. Me, Michael and Joey.’ ‘To the hotel?’ she asked.

  He shook his head, ‘No, to the other side of the island. We roughed it for a few days. Just took some fishing lines and a knife each. Lived off the land and the sea. They took it well. I was surprised how quickly they adapted. Hell, at the end they didn’t even want to come back to Gozo.’ His voice took on a musing tone. ‘It does you good, you know, to go back to that kind of situation. It did me good to show a couple of young men how to live off their own land.’ ‘Has it been a long time?’ she asked softly. ‘Since what?’ he asked. ‘Since you lived off the land?’

  He thought about that and said, ‘Yes and no. I guess in a way I always lived off the land.’ She digested that and asked, ‘Will I know anyone at the party?’ ‘Yes. Paul and Laura and Joey will be there and they’re bringing Michael. You’ll like George and Stella. It’s her birthday. There’ll be mountains of food and rivers of drink.’