Crime Always Pays (32 page)

          'So you're stinging this guy,' she said, to grab Niko's attention.

          'What's that?'

          'The Amsterdam guy, piping in coke. You're undercover, right?'

          Niko's eyebrows did a caterpillar conga. 'Who told you that?'

          'Oh,' Doyle said, 'a little birdie.'

          'A birdie?'

          'The birdie,' Doyle said, 'mentioned the Dutch connection, the coke. I was the one presumed you're undercover. Because the birdie seems to think, for some reason, you're Johnny's guy, his muscle.'

          'Fuck. Who's this birdie?'

          'Oh, a guy I met last night, we were in a bar. I didn't catch his name.'

          'This bar, it wasn't the Orange, was it?'

          'The, um, Orange. Yeah.'

          'Shit,' Niko said. He shook his head, then glanced around, a sly half-grin starting. 'You know how long it's taken me to get to this point?' he said. 'I mean, for people to start believing I'm Johnny's guy in the islands? Three fucking years.'

          'Wow,' Doyle said. Christ, Ray was heading 
this
 way now? 'That's pretty impressive.' Doyle using her eyes, Ray coming on, to warn him off. 

          But Ray kept coming. Doyle realising too late Ray didn't know Niko was a cop. Ray knowing nothing at all about Niko, as it happened, Doyle believing Ray'd be happier in his ignorance …

          It took Niko a beat or two to register that Ray'd slipped into the seat beside him. Not until Ray pulled the .38 under the table and leaned in, placed it against Niko's knee.

          'Hollow points,' Ray said. 'They'll take half your fucking leg with them.'

Niko did a double-take, glancing at Doyle and then back to Ray. 'Who the fuck is this?' he said.

'Ever seen a man gut-shot?' Ray said.

Niko, mesmerised, shook his head. 'What happens,' Ray said, 'is the crap in your intestine gets in the wound. It's a horrible death. Takes days.'

          'Fucking Sicilians,' Niko breathed.

          'Stand up,' Ray told Niko.

          Niko got to his feet slow.

'Nice and easy,' Ray said. 'The navy Punto, over by the yachts. Smile like you're having a good time.'

          Niko's face cracked like a dropped plate.

Ray

'You don't know,' Niko said, 'who you're fucking with.'

          'Save it for Karen,' Ray said.

          'Karen?'

          'This girl I know, just happened to have her nose busted last night.'

          Niko blanched. 'Now 
wait
 a fucking --'

          'Just drive,' Ray said.

Ray angled into the passenger seat, the gun on his lap pointed at Niko's thigh. The beach to their left, the Punto crawling along in second gear, Niko's knuckles white on the steering wheel. 'Where to?' he said.

          'Keep going,' Ray said, 'all the way to the end. See the yellowy-blue sign, the Katina? There's a driveway to one side.'

          Niko turned in onto a rutted track.

          'Okay,' Ray said. 'Go down to the end, pull in under the pine.'

          The village dead ahead on the top of the hill, looking snow-capped, mountains to the left dissolving into the shimmering interior.

'Now switch off,' Ray said.

Niko turned off the engine. Ray said, 'You're fucking with the wrong people, man. What'd you think, we'd just roll over? We look like Poland to you? Coming in here with a fucking army …' Ray touched the barrel of the gun to Niko's thigh, Niko shying away to fetch up hard against the driver's door. 'Ever heard of the Romans?' Ray said. 'The Venetians?'

          'And now it's the Sicilians' turn. I get it, yeah.'

          'Sicilians,' Ray said, 'right.' He thought about that. 'You carrying?' he said.

          Niko nodded.

          'Take it out slow,' Ray holding up a forefinger, 'using just that.'

          Niko, a little green around the gills, did as he was told.

          'Okay,' Ray said, 'we're going inside. One fucking peep and you won't see the cavalry arrive. 
Kapiche
?'

Sleeps

Sleeps watched the Punto crawl through the port and disappear out along the shore road, then rang Rossi.

          '
Sleeps
?'

          'It's me, yeah.'

          '
Thank fuck. I'm lost
.'

          'Shit. Where are you?'

          '
The fuck would I know? I'm lost
.'

          'Keep heading down. Let gravity do the work.'

          '
I'm trying, man. It's the Bermuda Triangle up here, I just saw Barry fuckin Manilow driving the Titanic … What's happening down there
?'

          'Ray snatched Johnny's guy.'

          '
Jesus Willy Christ. Where's Johnny
?'

          'Over in the fish restaurant with Mel.'

'
Any sign of our coke
?'

          'Johnny's coke. And no. But Ray says to sit tight, he'll ring later.'

          '
Ray's ringing us
?'

          'Yep.'

          '
You gave him my fuckin number
?'

          'Nope.' Sleeps sighed. 'He said he'd ring the phone-box.'

          '
What's he ringing for
?'

          'He wants to talk. Pro to pro.'

          '
About what
?'

          'He didn't say. But Rossi? He's tooled.'

          '
The Uzi
?'

          'Nope.'

          '
Fuckin Wyatt Earp this guy
.'

          'So we talk to him, right?'

          Rossi mulling it over. '
Whaddya think, is he running a scam with Mel? On Johnny, like
.'

          'Let's just see,' Sleeps said,' what the guy has to say.'

          '
First off, we want Mel, the coke. That's non-negotiable
.'

          'Forget about the coke, Rossi.'

          '
You shitting me? That's twenty fucking grand's worth Johnny owes me
.'

          'Us,' Sleeps said, 'he owes 
us
.' He said, 'It's twenty now?'

          '
Johnny's fucking us around, Sleeps. So I made what they call an executive decision, we're double-bubbling every four hours. And that's including, the guy doesn't get his fuckin skates on, while he's asleep
.'

'Okay, but here's the thing. You said Ray'd know where Karen is.' 

          Static on the line while Rossi thought about that. '
So you're saying, two birds with one stone
.'         

'Go back to the Poseidon. I'll meet you there.'

          '
You think I didn't try
?'

          'Okay. Don't move, just sit down somewhere. I'll find you.'

          '
Make it fast. I'm getting looks up here from guys with wooden legs and three eyes. Fuckin 
Deliverance
 it is
.'

          Sleeps hung up and turned around to find Johnny Priest just standing there.

          'Hey, Fuckface,' Johnny said.

          A woman coming in behind Johnny, flipping a badge that glinted in the sun.

          Sleeps felt his heart and stomach swap over.

Madge

Terry came back from the bathroom dry-washing his hands in anticipation as he ducked under the awning onto the terrace. He hung his jacket on the back of his chair and picked up the menu. 'See anything you like?' he said.

          'Actually, I think I just saw a blonde Ray,' Madge said.

          'Ray? Where?'

          'Over there, past those yachts. Bundling a guy into a car.'

          Terry, eyebrows halfway up his bald spot, peered through the throng of backpackers, port officials, the hawkers with their laminated signs. 'Bundling?'

          'That's how it looked.'

          'You're sure?'

          'He was blonde, but his arm was in a plaster cast. And he still has the quiff.'

          'Karen wasn't with him?'

          'No. But that guy over there, in the phone-booth,' Madge pointed past the statue in the middle of the port, 'that's Sleeps.' 

          'Who's Sleeps?'

          'Rossi's partner. He's the one treated me well up at the lake, after I fainted. Remember?'

          Terry squinting into the glare of the noon sun. 'And that's Rossi, right? The guy about to floor Sleeps.'

          'Him I've never seen before. But the girl beside him? That's Doyle, the cop I was telling you about, wanted to help with my alibi that day I shot Frank.'

          'The Crazy Gang,' Terry said, 'all back together for one last reunion. What d'you think, should we send flowers?'

          'Erm, excuse me?'

          Madge looked up, shading her eyes. A large girl in a mustard sarong-and-pants combo was leaning forward from the next table along.

          'Yes?' Madge said. 'Can we help you?'

          'I couldn't help but overhear,' the girl said, 'you mentioning Rossi and Sleeps. You wouldn't happen to be friends of theirs, would you?'

Sleeps

'Where's 
who
 gone?' Sleeps said.

'Don't fuck with me, Biggie Smalls. Pull that Sicilian crap on me?' Johnny fuming. 'You don't even 
look
 Italian, man.'  

'Who said I was?'

          Johnny ducked in under the head-and-shoulders booth, crowding Sleeps, getting nose-to-nose. 'I won't ask again, Fat-Chops. Where'd they go?'

          The stench of garlic caused Sleeps to rear back, but Johnny came on again. Sleeps couldn't resist. He faked another duck-back and then, as Johnny advanced, crashed his forehead into the unmissable target of the guy's Adam's apple.

Johnny croaked once and went down hard, gurgling gravel. 

          Sleeps glanced at the woman cop. She shrugged, flipped her badge closed.

'Thank Christ for that,' she said. ' I'm Doyle. Who the fuck're you?'

Doyle

'Which way did he go?' Johnny like a frog gakking up hairballs.

          'Thataway,' Doyle said, waving vaguely in the direction of Africa. 'Johnny? I really think you should get that seen to.'

          'How come you didn't grab him?'

          'You were choking,' Doyle said, 'right there at my feet. It was chase him or take care of you. And Niko, he was explicit, my number one responsibility is you.'

          Johnny, sullen, sipped a few drops of iced water, wincing as they slid down. 'So what do they want?'

          'The guy said to wait, they'd be in touch. With,' Doyle freewheeled, 'their full list of, y'know, demands.'

          'Fucking Sicilians,' Johnny croaked.

          'They'll be in touch,' Doyle reassured him. 'So all we have to do is wait and --'

          'That car was a rental,' Johnny said. 'I saw the sign in the back window, Kosmos Rentals. All we have to do now is find --'