Sensing a fight brewing and knowing she’d somehow get the blame, Suzie said, ‘It’s all right, I’ll go. I don’t mind. I’ll just walk past and see what’s going on, and if it’s all clear, I’ll go and find the mask. Just give me a minute to get dressed.’
Mal caught her hand as she passed, squeezing it tightly. ‘You’ll be fine, doll.’
‘Yeah.’ With another faint smile, she walked towards the door. Then, remembering Wendy’s call, she turned to Sam. ‘Oh, by the way, Sam. Wendy rang just before you got back and said to tell you to go straight home.’
Sam’s face fell. ‘Shit! I can’t go home while all this is going on.’ He turned to Ged and Mal helplessly. ‘What should I do?’
‘Better ring her.’ Mal gestured to the phone with a wave, then turned his attention back to the money. Now he was in the clear he could afford to luxuriate in the moment. Picking up a thick bundle he sniffed it, closing his eyes in ecstasy.
Sam stared blankly at the floor. He didn’t want to talk to Wendy. They’d only argue and he didn’t think he could cope with any more aggro. But it’d be worse if he didn’t call her. Reluctantly, he reached for the phone and dialled his number, resting his burning forehead against the cool wall as he waited for Wendy to answer.
Behind him, Ged was still trying to change Mal’s mind about sending Suzie out. ‘It’s wrong, man. What if she gets pulled?’
Mal looked up from the money slowly, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘Why are you so bothered about her all of a sudden? What’s it to you, eh? You gone sweet on my woman now, have you?’
‘Give me strength!’ Ged snorted, shaking his head as he stared off into space.
‘Well?’ Mal persisted, sure he’d stumbled across the real reason for Ged’s concern. ‘Want a piece, do you? Not got none of your own now, so you just thought you’d help yourself to a little piece of mine, eh?’
‘Behave yourself,’ snapped Ged. ‘You know me better than that!’ Snatching his cigarettes off the table, he lit one and blew a fierce stream of smoke at the carpet. Mal was pissing him off – big time! But no good would come of ripping the little shit’s head off his shoulders – no matter how much he’d like to do just that. Tapping ash onto his knee, he rubbed it in slowly and struggled to regain his calm.
‘Look,’ he said eventually. ‘Just think about it, will you? It’s not just your head on the line if she gets pulled, is it? She’s only a kid. She won’t stand a chance if the police get hold of her.’
Mal shrugged. ‘She might be young, but she’s not stupid. She knows how to keep her mouth shut.’
Ged gritted his teeth. ‘But she shouldn’t have to. It’s nothing to do with her.’
Mal frowned. He just wanted to count the money, but he couldn’t concentrate with Ged moaning like a little old woman. ‘Look, just chill out, will you?’ he snapped. ‘Everything’s gonna be fine. For God’s sake, look!’ He swept a hand across the money. ‘We’ve got a shed-load of dosh, and you’re still not happy. What’s up your arse tonight? A fucking wasp?’
Ged looked away in disgust as Mal laughed at his own joke.
‘Wendy, I’ve told you . . . I can’t!’ Sam whined into the phone behind them. ‘No, don’t, Wendy! Oh, shit!’
Slamming the receiver down, he flopped heavily down on the floor next to Mal and plucked at a loose thread in the carpet. ‘She’s coming over.’
‘You what?’ Mal stared at him. ‘She can’t!’
Sam blushed and lowered his eyes. ‘I tried to tell her that, but she wasn’t having it.’ Grabbing one of the bundles off the table, he ran his thumb through it, mumbling into his chest: ‘You know what she’s like.’
‘Great. That’s all we need,’ Ged muttered darkly.
‘Ah, well . . .’ Mal shrugged and turned back to the money. ‘Too late to worry now. We’d better just get this little lot sorted before she gets here.’ Picking the largest wad up, he threw it to Ged with a grin. ‘Here, you miserable bastard . . . Count that!’
Catching it, Ged fingered the money with a heavy sigh, then reluctantly started counting.
They fell silent as they immersed themselves in the task, the only sound in the room the noisy licking of fingers as they carefully flipped back the layers of notes.
In the background, the front door clicked shut as Suzie let herself out. None of them noticed.
After a while, Sam looked up, his eyes glittering brightly as thoughts of Wendy’s impending arrival were overtaken by greed. ‘There’s three thousand, two hundred here,’ he whispered.
‘And I’ve got two thou six,’ Mal whooped joyfully, pushing another bundle across the table to Sam. ‘What’s that come to, Ged?’
‘Five eight,’ said Ged, without looking up from the wad he was halfway through. ‘And I’ve counted twelve up to now.’
Mal laughed. ‘Better get a move on, man! We’re well ahead of you here!’
‘Twelve grand,’ Ged said quietly, smiling in spite of himself.
‘You’re joking!’ Mal looked up wide-eyed. ‘Twelve thou? And you’re only halfway through?’
Ged nodded, leafing rapidly through the notes. ‘Fifteen now.’
‘And there’s another nine hundred here.’ Sam gave a childlike grin. ‘Bloody hell! We should open our own supermarket if this is the kind of dosh they make in a week!’
‘Sack that!’ Mal laughed. ‘We’d make more in a tits-’n’-tush shop! Bluies and vibrators, an’ that!’
When the money was all counted and heaped in neat piles on the table, they sat and stared from it to each other in wordless wonder. It was Sam who finally broke the awed silence. Whistling long and low, he shook his head slowly, wiping a glistening sheen of sweat off his forehead onto the back of his hand.
‘Man, that’s beautiful. How much altogether, Ged?’
‘Sixty-eight thousand, six hundred – give or take a few quid,’ said Ged slowly.
Mal and Sam couldn’t keep the grins from creeping across their faces. Sixty-eight thousand pounds! More money than they’d ever seen in their lives. Jumping to their feet, they threw their arms around each other and danced around the room, yelling: ‘Yes! Yes!’
Breaking the dance, Sam squatted down beside Ged. ‘How much is that each?’
Ged cast him a sideways glance, a small smile lifting his lip. ‘Twenty-two and a half, and some small change.’
‘Oh . . . my . . . God!’ gasped Mal, dropping to his knees and staring at the pile in wonder. ‘Lee only expected about ten gees altogether!’
The mention of Lee brought them back down to earth with a bang. How could they have left him lying back there, not even knowing if he was dead or alive?
Ged’s conscience pricked him sharply. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘Um – better split it four ways. Just in case, yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ Sam shamefacedly agreed. ‘How much is that, then?’
Ged did a quick calculation. ‘Seventeen thousand.’ He smiled, shrugging lightly. ‘Still not bad, eh?’
‘This calls for a celebration!’ Mal rubbed his hands together greedily. He was rich! Rich! ‘Sam, go and get some cans out of the fridge while me and Ged share this out.’
Splitting the pile roughly, Mal pushed half across the table to Ged, while Sam, feeling more than a little left out, sloped off to the kitchen to get the cans.
It took Suzie almost fifteen minutes to half walk, half run to the shops. When she got there, she was more relieved than she’d ever been in her life to find nothing amiss. No police vans, no crowd of onlookers – nothing. Only too aware that this could soon change, she hopped over the low fence and ducked into the dark undergrowth.
Already petrified, her nerves jarred at every sound as she began her frantic search for the discarded mask. Every twig she stepped on seemed to echo loud and clear through the still night air, and every leaf rustling in the slight breeze became a forest in a raging storm.
When she’d been at it for ten minutes, paranoia began to take hold. It suddenly occurr
ed to her that the police might have already been. They could have been, taken the bodies away – and the mask – and be lying in wait at this very moment, praying for an idiot like her to come along and wrap the whole case up for them. She was a sitting duck!
Her heart was already firmly lodged in her throat when she heard the car turning onto the road behind her. A shock wave coursed down her spine as it came closer and closer. Crouching lower as the approaching headlights illuminated the bushes, she winced as a prickly branch dug its spikes into her tender face. Holding her breath, she bit down on her hand to stop herself crying out as the car came alongside, then sailed past.
When the road was quiet again, she exhaled with a sob and rested her forehead on her knees to stem the rising nausea. Wobbling unsteadily as her head began to spin, she felt herself falling forwards. Clutching at the bushes to stop herself, her hand brushed against something cold and damp—
Wool!
The mask!
Oh, thank God!
Snatching at it, she yanked it to herself, snagging it on a bramble in her haste. Wrenching it free, she hugged it to her breast, then rolled it into a tight ball and stuck it deep into her pocket. Forcing herself to stand on legs that felt like liquefied jelly, she pushed her way out of the bushes, then, with a quick prayer of eternal gratitude for the deserted road, hopped over the fence and headed for home. Willing herself invisible, she rammed her hands deep into her pockets, keeping a tight grip on the mask, afraid that it might somehow escape her if she let it go for even a second.
Every quaking step was torture. She felt exposed. Vulnerable. Afraid that if anyone saw her they’d be sure to remember when the police started asking questions.
Her heart thundered in her ears as another car turned onto the road. Quickening her step, she only just managed not to break into a guilty run as it came closer, but when it was just yards away, a bubble of panic rose into her throat. She was going to scream.
Suddenly, the car began to slow, then it was pulling in to the kerb alongside her, and she could hear the squeak of a window going down.
‘Suzie?’
Her heart stopped, her brain refusing to recognize the voice.
‘Suzie,’ it said again. ‘What on earth are you doing, girl? Get in. You can’t be walking around out here at this time of night – you’ll get attacked!’
It was Wendy.
Gasping for breath, Suzie turned, wide-eyed as a rabbit caught in headlights. When Wendy leaned across and pushed open the passenger door, she fell onto the seat with a whimper.
‘What’s going on?’ demanded Wendy, crunching the gears as she eased away from the kerb.
Suzie panicked. Mal would go ballistic if she told Wendy, but she was waiting for an answer, and she wasn’t an easy woman to ignore.
‘I . . . I just needed a w-walk,’ she said at last, stuttering out her lie. ‘Anyway, what are you doing back up here? I thought you said you were going to bed?’
‘I was,’ Wendy snorted, a cynical smile twisting her lips. ‘Until Sam rang with some bullshit about the job going wrong, so I decided to come and get him.’ She flicked Suzie a sidelong glance. ‘You must know what happened? So come on – out with it.’
‘I don’t really know,’ Suzie croaked. ‘I didn’t know anything about it till they came back. Then Mal said something had gone wrong and he needed me to come back here and get his mask.’
‘You what!’ Wendy barked, gripping the wheel tight as she threw the car round the corner. ‘He sent you?’
Suzie pulled the seat belt on as Wendy put her foot down hard. ‘No. It wasn’t like that. I offered.’
‘Sure you did.’ Wendy sighed, shaking her head. ‘I suppose you asked for the beating too?’
Suzie blushed but said nothing. The sympathetic Wendy of earlier was obviously long gone.
‘Don’t worry,’ Wendy muttered, more to herself than Suzie. ‘I’ll get to the bottom of it.’
Turning in to the Crescents a minute later, Wendy pulled into the space alongside Lee’s car and killed the engine. Leaning over to the back seat for her handbag, she nodded towards the Escort.
‘I see shithead’s here. Hasn’t he got a home of his own?’
‘He’s not here,’ said Suzie. ‘Mal drove it back.’
Wendy opened the door and stepped out, shaking her dress down. ‘You mean to tell me that lazy little shite walked somewhere for once in his life?’
Suzie shook her head, keeping her gaze pinned to the concrete as she stepped out the other side. There was no way she was telling Wendy what had happened. She’d leave that unpleasant task to the others – let them weather the storm of her rage.
Wendy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. There was definitely something funny going on here, and Suzie wasn’t telling. Well, she’d soon get it out of Sam.
Hustling Suzie up the stairs as fast as her belly would allow, Wendy waited impatiently for the door to be opened. The instant Suzie turned the key, she barged past her and marched up the short hallway, charging through the living-room door like a rhino and shocking the hell out of the men sitting around the money-laden table rolling spliffs.
‘Holy fucking shit, Wendy!’ squawked Mal, knocking tobacco every which way as he dived to cover the drugs. ‘I thought it was a raid! How did you get in?’
‘Suzie,’ Wendy snapped. Then, standing over them like a fearsome headmistress, hands on hips, she looked at each of them in turn. ‘Now, who wants to tell me what’s going on? Sam?’ She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
Mal glared at Suzie as she hovered nervously in the doorway. Shrugging helplessly, she mouthed: ‘Sorry.’
‘Well, Sam?’ Wendy tapped her foot impatiently. ‘I’m waiting!’
Mal motioned Suzie to the kitchen with his eyes, and, with a painfully thudding heart she went, sure that he would kill her for this latest gaffe. Seconds later, he joined her.
‘Why did you let her in?’ he hissed, flicking the door shut with his heel.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whimpered, leaning tight against the fridge. ‘I couldn’t stop her. She p-pushed past me.’
Mal glared at her for several moments. Then, remembering his share of the loot, he felt the anger seep away.
‘Ah, sack it,’ he said. ‘It’s not your fault. She said she was coming round. I just thought we’d be able to ignore her. Still, she’s Sam’s problem, not ours, eh?’
Suzie nodded quickly, relieved not to be in trouble again. She decided not to mention the fact that she’d spent the evening with Wendy drinking wine and smoking spliffs. If he thought they’d been discussing him he’d go really ape. She just hoped Wendy wouldn’t say anything.
Nudging her aside, Mal pulled open the fridge and rooted inside, pushing yoghurts and soggy lettuce aside. ‘I thought I had more beers in here,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Where’ve they all gone?’
Suzie wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. ‘There was a six-pack in this morning. You lot must have drunk them all.’
‘Must have done.’ Shrugging, he closed the fridge door, then thought for a moment. ‘Could be a blessing,’ he said at last. ‘Did Wendy bring her car?’
Suzie nodded. ‘Yeah, she picked me up on the way back from the shops.’
Mal suddenly remembered the reason she’d been out. ‘Oh, yeah. How was it? Did you find it?’
Suzie nodded, pulling the damp mask from her pocket.
‘Oh, you beauty!’ Mal snatched it from her and kissed it with sheer relief before throwing it into the bin. As an afterthought, he pulled the bag out and tied the neck in a tight knot.
‘Better take that to the rubbish chute,’ he said, handing it to her and shooing her out of the way as he made for the door. ‘I’ll get Wendy to drive over to the all-night Spar for a few bottles. I think we’ll have some real nice stuff to celebrate my little windfall, eh?’
Leaving Suzie to deal with the bag, he went back to the living room where he found Wendy still grilling Sam – and Sam, the wuss, giving it all
up like Mr Loose-gob. Mal sighed. It was time for a bit of the old diversionaries.
Coming up behind Wendy, he put his hands on her hips and squeezed, cooing seductively: ‘Wendy, darlin’, if I didn’t know you were a married woman, I’d be very tempted to—’ nuzzling his mouth to her ear, he whispered the rest ‘—fuck the arse off you!’
‘Maaaal!’ Wendy jumped, squirming as his hot breath tickled her neck.
Sam’s face reddened. He might not have heard the words, but he could imagine what they were. Sometimes he really hated Mal. He was a disrespectful bastard. And as for Wendy – she wouldn’t be acting like that if she knew what a git Mal could be. Look at what he’d done to Suzie.
‘Couldn’t do me a favour, could you?’ Mal was saying now, his voice pure silk.
‘Oh yeah?’ Wendy smiled coyly. ‘And what would that be, then?’
‘Go down the Spar and get us some bottles?’
Wendy looked at his puppy-dog eyes for a moment, then sighed and held her hand out for the money. Taking two of the twenties from the pile on the table, Mal, folded them into her hand with a suggestive wink.
‘Anyone ever tell you that you are an angel of mercy?’ he crooned, herding her out of the door.
Seconds later he came back, rubbing his hands together as he told Sam, ‘I reckon you owe me one, mate. I’ve just bought you a bit of time to have a line without your jailer breathing down your neck!’ Nudging the still-glum Sam with his elbow, he laughed. ‘Come on, you sad git! Put a smile on it – it might never happen!’
Sam tried to return the smile but only managed a grimace as Mal disappeared into the bedroom to get the last of his stash – which he didn’t mind sharing now he had money to get a whole load more.
Suzie came back from the rubbish chute while he was gone and perched on the arm of his chair. Lighting a cigarette, she gazed at the carpet, exhausted by the events of the night.
Ged watched her with a frown of concern. ‘You all right, sweetheart?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yeah, thanks, I’m fine.’ She smiled without meeting his eye.
‘Did you have any problem finding the mask?’
She shook her head. ‘It took a while, but I got it. I’ve just dumped it down the chute.’
The Front Page 6
