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Hearts of Stone

Page 20

by Mark Timlin


  ‘Come along,’ said Kaplan. ‘Don’t keep me waiting.’

  The bag was heavy, but I was facing a loaded gun, and was desperate. I swung it up and at him. He moved to one side to avoid it, and laughed. The bag hit the window with a crash and burst open. It was the money bag. Cash fell everywhere.

  ‘You bloody fool,’ he screamed, and I thought he was going to fire. I tensed myself for the impact but it didn’t come. He was too worried about the money. He backed away, still brandishing the gun. ‘I’m going to enjoy killing you and your slut. But first re-pack the case.’

  ‘Slut,’ I retorted. ‘It was young lady a moment ago.’

  ‘Just do it,’ he said more calmly, but I could see a vein popping under the skin of his forehead.

  I moved to do as he told me, but before I could take a step, the window began to vibrate violently and, with a screech like a million banshees, it began to crumble down on itself. He looked up at it in disbelief and tried to run, but it was too late. With a sound like the roar of a waterfall, it broke. Huge shards, fifteen, twenty feet long, as heavy as pianos and as sharp as knives, fell down on him, slicing his body into strips as if he’d stepped into a giant food-processor. The wind and the rain tore through the gap and picked up the money and swirled it round the interior of the huge room, and sucked it out to scatter it across the city.

  I went back to Kylie. ‘Jesus,’ she said, ‘Did you ever see anything like that?’

  ‘Not until now,’ I said over the keening of the wind. ‘Don’t you think you’d better get that back-up now? I’m sure Derek will let you use his phone.’

  Derek was still where we’d left him, hands in the air, looking in horror at the remains of his ex-boss. Kylie grabbed him, and together they went through the restaurant in the direction of his office.

  I retrieved the empty Colt Commander I’d dropped, then sifted through the debris around the table and found the gun that Jools had used to kill Gregor and Fanny. I’d been right. They were identical. I checked the serial numbers: they were consecutive. The one Jools had brought was the higher number. Just like Chiltern had said. I went to look at the rest of the damage that had been done. The two security men were alive, but barely. Billy and Barry were both deceased. I wondered if I’d ever find out which one was which. Likewise dead were Fanny, Gregor and Kaplan’s minder.

  Jools was sitting in a corner. She’d pulled herself up into a sitting position with her back against a wall. Amazingly she was still alive, but I could tell she too was dying. Her skin was almost transparent, the colour of fresh milk, and clammy-looking. She was holding on to the wound above her breast with both hands, as if to keep her life inside intact. But they were scarlet with blood and it was still seeping through her fingers, and had soaked the bodice of her white dress.

  ‘Cold,’ she said. ‘It’s so cold in here.’

  It was true that the temperature had dropped like a stone when the window went, but I didn’t think that was the kind of cold she was feeling. I took off my jacket and draped it round her shoulders.

  ‘Are they dead?’ she asked in a small voice.

  ‘Which ones in particular?’

  ‘That bastard Gregor and his tart.’

  ‘Yeah. You did for them. Why, Jools? Why did you do it?’

  ‘Remember that party?’ she asked. ‘At Brady’s house.’

  I nodded.

  ‘After Roy hit me, I went upstairs. She was there. Fanny. Wanted to be my friend. Telling me what bastards men are, as if I didn’t know. She told me that if I wanted to get back at him I was to get in touch.’

  ‘And you did.’

  ‘Yes – after you dropped me off that day. Gregor knew there was a deal going down, I only had to find out where the meet was going to be and let him know.’

  ‘Christ, Jools. You shouldn’t have done that,’ I said.

  ‘I know. I know she was just using me. I didn’t know anyone was going to get killed. I just wanted them to steal the stuff. Hit Roy where it hurt.’

  ‘And you did.’

  ‘She told me to go back to Roy. Tell him I was sorry. Beg his forgiveness. You know the sort of thing. It worked, too. He was a sucker for all that.’ She coughed and I saw blood in her mouth. ‘He slapped me around a bit, then forgot all about it. He didn’t care really. As long as I was there, like a piece of property. Then I spied on him. I was quite good at it. I found out where the meet was going to be, and told Gregor.’ She started to cry. ‘I loved him really,’ she said.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I know you did.’ I showed her the gun she’d used. ‘Where did you get this?’ I asked.

  It took a moment to register, then she remembered. ‘Pat Hughes got it. He bought two of them off a mate. A pair. They’d been nicked from somewhere.’ Her voice was getting smaller, and I could hardly hear for the roar of the wind entering the broken window. ‘He gave one to Roy. It was like a joke. No, not a joke. You know what I mean. Partners with matching guns. Like twins.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ I said.

  ‘It was in his drawer. I never fired a gun before today.’

  ‘You did all right,’ I said.

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ she asked.

  ‘I got hold of the other one. The one Hughes kept.’

  ‘How? Where?’

  ‘Someone used it to shoot a copper a while back.’

  ‘That sounds like Patsy Hughes. He always was a mad bastard.’

  ‘How did you know Gregor would be here tonight?’ I asked.

  ‘That bitch told me. She thought I wanted some money. I couldn’t take money, Nick, you know that. It was the last straw really. Her offering me money.’

  ‘I know,’ I said.

  ‘But what about you?’ she asked. ‘What were you doing here? And who were you with?’

  ‘Long story,’ I said.

  ‘Aren’t they all,’ she replied, and her face twisted in pain. She was going fast. She opened her mouth and a great bubble of blood and saliva formed between her lips. She was dying, and taking it hard, and there was nothing I could do. She let go of her chest and grabbed my arm to pull me close. I went. The bubble in her mouth kept bursting and reforming, only to burst again as she tried to speak, and tiny drops of blood spattered on to her face and mine.

  ‘Nick,’ she said with great effort. ‘We could…’ And that was the last thing she ever said. She slumped back against the wall and lay still.

  I wondered what she’d wanted to say, but I’d never know.

  I took her hand off my arm, laid it back across the wound and tucked my jacket more securely round her.

  A moment later Kylie came back through the restaurant and said, ‘There’ll be ambulances here in a minute.’

  ‘Too late for her,’ I said, and went looking for a packet of cigarettes.

  Copyright

  This ebook published in 2015

  by No Exit Press,

  an imprint of Oldcastle Books Ltd,

  PO Box 394, Harpenden,

  Herts, AL5 1XJ, UK

  noexit.co.uk

  @NoExitPress

  All rights reserved

  © Mark Timlin 1992

  The right of Mark Timlin to be identified as author of this

  work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced,

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  or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised

  distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of th
e author’s

  and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

  either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,

  and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses,

  companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  978-1-84344-476-3 (print)

  978-1-84344-477-0 (epub)

  978-1-84344-478-7 (kindle)

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