by Brian Cain
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
The assassin was not impressed with Renoirs report; he uncharacteristically began ranting in a raised voice pushed by his cocaine habit but still wearing a smile and threw down his mobile phone. He was spending more time with Creighton, Creighton's marriage was in the final stages of falling apart and he had begun to live in Delores pocket becoming reliant on the uplifting affects of cocaine. Creighton was with the assassin in his McMahons Point residence overlooking the sights of Sydney harbour, spread out on the lounge with a scantly clad blonde woman in her early twenties the assassin referred to as arm candy. The assassin had abused Renoir on the phone when given the news from Medlow Bath and refused to pay him, a common ploy in law abiding business and used by the assassin daily. The assassin had always been careful not to directly associate himself with elements used to do dirty work, but the split with Taggart left him floundering at a crucial time and he had began to manage it himself. This was beginning to be quite profitable directly supplying commercial quantities of cocaine to friends, courtesy of Jib Habib. His McMahons Point mansion was impenetrable, or so he thought. He seldom used the residence reserving it for overseas clients to be pampered by the resident arm candy. If he couldn't persuade them to invest they generally could. The security measures at the residence were effective at keeping out law abiding citizens but Renoir was far from being one. Delores was about to get a chilling first experience at doing business in the underworld, he had no insight into protecting himself from those that had no regard for law. The law was always something he had manipulated with a lawyer and again at arms length. He had even ranted on about where he was to Renoir as if it were some kind of mental shield that would stop the lowly in their tracks. Creighton and Delores chatted about the next moves wearing only dressing gowns, the glass doors of the spacious rumpus room open to the spring sun and harbour sounds. The residence gates were open and the alarm system shut down.
Renoir couldn't believe his luck, He parked a stolen car two streets back from the palace and walked straight up the driveway, the door was unlocked so he went in closing it gently behind him. A stunning young dark haired woman came to the bottom of the stairs in the hallway entrance and asked if he needed assistance. He said he had an appointment with Theo. She smiled and told him she would be ready if he needed her and she skipped back upstairs. Renoir shook his head and quietly made his way up the marble hall, he could hear Delores laughing and continued towards the voice. He peeked around the corner of the rumpus room evaluating the situation. The girl with Creighton had left the room and the pair stood at the glass doors looking over the harbour chatting and laughing with their backs to him sipping on bourbon. Renoir drew his Glock nine millimetre pistol from his body holster and screwed a silencer to its barrel. He crept silently up behind Creighton with his back to the wall so he had vision of the entire room only stepping away to behind them before he came near their side vision. He swiped his pistol across the side of Creighton's head sending him crashing tot he ground. He followed it with a kick to the stomach and Creighton coughed in pain and struggled to draw breath, he dragged himself along the floor and hung on to the leg of an ornate oak table by the wall to the left winded.
With Creighton out of action Renoir raised his pistol to Delores head the silencer brushing his nose. "My money," grunted Renoir.
The assassin had lost his smile completely and looked down the barrel of the pistol with his mouth wide open. He swallowed. "The police can be here in five minutes."
Renoir laughed. He walked to the bar. The assassin's gaze followed the barrel of the pistol still pointed at him. He took the ice pick in his left hand from the utensil rack and drove it through the plastic cover of a half kilo bag of cocaine sitting on the bar. He picked up the bag tossing it backwards and forwards, the bag broke sending the cocaine floating in a cloud all around the rumpus room settling on everything including Delores face. "Go ahead call them."
Delores sniggered and managed a smile in one corner of his mouth. "On second thoughts I don't think that'll be real wise."
"My money."
Delores pointed to the brief case on the table, Renoir nodded and Delores opened the case and took out a check book, he began to write. "What are you doing, cash man, cash. You really don't know what you're doing do you."
Delores looked at him in despair. "No, no I don't."
Creighton attempted to get to his feet but Renoir walked thorough the layer of white powder on the floor and kicked him again. "What are you doing cant you see his hurt," said Delores.
"Yes," replied Renoir.
"Why."
"You're mate here has poor manners, he thinks he's above all because he has money, business and horses. Talks to everyone like they are dirt, unless they can do something for him. You've stepped across the line, manners outside the law are very important. Most of the people I deal with have weapons that can take my head off at two thousand metres and know how to use them. We have unwritten ways of doing business. Next time this bloke talks to me it will be on equal terms, if he ups me again just for the sake of it, then I'll kill him just for the sake of it. He can act civilly or come back with a bigger gun, it's up to him. Cash, I want cash."
Delores frowned. "It's in the safe, behind the picture on the wall."
"Who designed this place that's the first spot I'd look."
"The place was like this when I bought it, its old." Delores pulled the hinged picture open and dialled in the combination. He took a stack of bills from the safe and put them on the table. He counted and separated a few wads and handed them to Renoir.
Renoir counted it and threw a wad back to him. "Ten thousand too much."
"I thought under the circumstances I should pay compensation," replied Delores.
"You can buy my services but you can't buy my respect, you'll have to use the same techniques everyone else does in this creed. You're over the line, you thought we were yours. Now you're ours."
Three insanely beautiful women walked to the rumpus room entrance one saw Creighton gasping in pain on the floor drew quick breath and put her hands over her mouth. Another recognised Renoir. "Rick, what are you doing here?'
"Shelley, go back to Habib if he'll have you. These blokes can't look after you," replied Renoir.
A fourth blonde, the one that had been with Creighton came to see what all the fuss was about, Creighton saw her. "Lee Ann, don't go, I love you," groaned Creighton from the floor.
She got closer standing over him looking in his face. "You creep, I'm a paid toy. I wouldn't have anything to do with you if you were the last guy on earth. What an arsehole?" She stormed off slipping on the powdered floor but regaining her footing.
"Shelley!" shouted Renoir. "Get them out of here while you can."
"I don't have a car here," she replied.
"Walk, ring a cab, call a friend, use your head. Use some of the piles of cash these idiots give you. You don't have to carry out instructions all your life Shell, have a go yourself."
Shelley beckoned the other girls. "Come on he's right, I'm going home." They turned to leave bustling towards the door. Shelley turned back to Renoir. "Smartarse!" she wore a cheeky smile.
Renoir run his thumb along the wads of bills from his pocket looking at Delores. "Paid in full, thanks, call me if you need any assistance. And I'll call you should I require yours, I'm sure you understand our unwritten deal allot clearer now." He stood above Creighton pointing his finger as he spoke. "A friend of mine works for you. You've threatened him with termination just about every day of this life. He has a family. Do it again and I'll modify your features." Renoir began to head for the door.
"Who is it?" groaned Creighton from the floor.
Renoir answered as he walked to the door with his back to the wall. "Oh no, now you have to treat everyone with respect." He checked the hallway and calmly left.
Creighton got his breath back and dragged himself up onto the couch with the help of Delores. They slipped all over the place on the layer of fin
e white powder. Delores sat down next to Creighton, he had lost his smile. "Jesus Theo we've done it now. I never did like that bloke, he's eyes are too close together and he's always quiet."
"That's half a kilo wasted, bugger," said Delores as he shook his head.
"Oh, I don't know. I got a gutful of it and I'm starting to feel better, the pains gone."
"We better clean this up before someone sees it," said Delores.
"Get some cleaners in," suggested Creighton.
"Idiot!"
"Oh, yeah, I'll give you a hand."
