The Front (7 page)

       
Slamming into him at the car, Sam tore his mask away and gripped his arm, shaking it frantically. ‘Where’s Lee? Where’s Lee?’

       
‘Get in the car!’ Mal hissed, twisting his arm away and wrenching the door open. ‘And shut the fuck up!’

       
Sick with terror, Sam jumped into the back. A glance at Ged’s face as he jumped in the other side said it all. He was white as a ghost, wide-eyed and shaking.

       
‘Where is he?’ Sam asked again, acutely aware of how high his voice sounded.

       
‘Back there, next to fucking Pasha!’ snapped Mal. Searching for the keys, he became almost hysterical when he realized Lee still had them. ‘Shit! Shit! How am I supposed to start the fucking car without keys?’ He slammed his fist down on the wheel and the horn blared like a siren.

       
Come and get us! . . . Come and get us
!

       
‘God
damn
it!’ Ged roared down his ear. ‘Pull the fucking wires, man!’

       
A full agonizing minute later, the engine sparked to life. Throwing it into gear, Mal rammed his foot to the floor and hurtled forward over the pavement, heedless of the high kerb scraping the underside of the car as he rocketed towards City Road. Turning the corner with an ear-splitting screech of tyres, he gunned towards the safety of the Crescents.

3

Wendy had left at eleven-thirty, by which time Suzie was so exhausted she’d climbed into bed and fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Now, like Mal earlier, she was startled awake by the phone.

       
Half expecting it to be Mal saying he was staying over at Lee’s, she was surprised to hear Wendy asking for Sam. After checking to see if they’d come back and finding that they hadn’t, she promised to send him straight home, then hung up and tried to go back to sleep.

       
A couple of restless minutes later, she knew it was impossible. Her head was banging from the wine, her body aching all over. Reaching into the drawer for a painkiller, she got up and wandered through to the kitchen to make herself a hot drink. She’d just put a pan of milk on the stove when she heard the frantic scuffling outside the front door.

       
Someone was trying to break in!

       
With her heart in her throat she reached for the baseball bat Mal kept behind the kitchen door and, gripping it tight with both hands, leaned hard against the wall, raising it high above her head as he’d shown her. As she stood there, shaking like a leaf and praying she’d have the strength to use it, the front door flew open – so hard it rocked the wall behind her. Then she heard Mal shouting: ‘Lock the door . . . Lock the fucking door!’

       
Replacing the bat, she stood stock-still, listening as the hushed voices filtered through the wall. She was so shaken, she didn’t notice the sizzling behind her as the milk began to boil, bubbling up and over the side of the pan onto the flame, filling the room with its sickly-sweet aroma.

       
‘That you in there?’ Mal called through the door. ‘You burning something?’

       
Snapping to, Suzie turned and saw the milk spewing out onto the cooker. ‘It’s just milk,’ she called back, grabbing the cloth off the sink to wipe it up before he saw it.

       
‘Put the kettle on, doll,’ he said. ‘And Ged and Sam are here,’ he went on, opening the door, ‘so put enough for . . . Oi! Watch it!’

       
Looking down, she realized the cloth was dangerously close to the flame and jerked it away. Mal shook his head, smiling indulgently.

       
‘Can’t leave you alone for two minutes, can I?’ he said, and, opening his arms, he cocked his head to the side and called her to him. ‘Come ’ere, you silly cow.’

       
Tripping across the sticky floor, she fell into his arms with a sob, pathetically grateful for another tiny crumb of affection.

       
Cupping her chin gently in his hand, he tipped her battered face up and peered at her tear-streaked face. ‘Here, what’s all this, then? What you crying for, doll?’

       
‘N-nothing,’ she sniffed as he wiped the tears away. ‘I . . . I just got w-worried, that’s all.’

       
He smiled softly. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, doll. I’m home now. Everything’s all right. Mal’s here.’

       
He allowed her only a few seconds before easing her from him. He was beginning to get that itchy, clutching feeling deep inside his gut, and he didn’t want to feel the horrible sensation of skin on skin when it sprang to the surface. Turning her towards the sink, he said, ‘Clean yourself up, doll. And make those brews, yeah?’

       
Leaving her splashing cold water on her face, he went through to the living room. Sam had turned on the lamps and the TV, but the warm glow they cast hadn’t managed to soften the stark whiteness of their faces. Shivering, Mal lit the fire and kneeled in front of it. He was still there, hogging all the heat, when Suzie came in with the cups.

       
‘Isn’t she a babe, guys?’ he crooned, oblivious to Ged and Sam’s expressions of disgust and horror as they got their first look at her face. Badly bruised and swollen, the cut lip had crusted black around the edge. She looked hideous.

       
‘Yeah,’ Sam mumbled, dropping his eyes as he took his cup with trembling fingers. ‘Thanks, Suzie.’

       
‘Thanks,’ Ged muttered, also unable to look at Suzie as he began to seethe inside.
The psychopathic little shit
! He would gladly strangle him when all this was over.

       
Having forgotten her battered face in the heat of the moment, Suzie didn’t connect their shocked expressions to herself. Knowing nothing of the job – Mal seldom saw fit to explain his movements to her – she tried to think what could have happened to shake them up so. Had they had a fight? Had they been arrested? She had no idea, but whatever it was, it must have been bad. And she wondered if Wendy knew what they’d been up to. She hadn’t said anything, but now that Suzie thought about it, it was a coincidence, Wendy’s turning up out of the blue and now this.

       
Taking her own cup over to the couch she sat down, drawing her legs up beneath herself as she waited to hear what was going on.

       
Sitting cross-legged on the rug, Mal rolled himself a strong spliff and took a lung-deep pull. Exhaling a huge plume of blue-grey smoke, he closed his eyes and leaned back, sighing. ‘Man, did I need that!’

       
A few moments of heavy silence later, Sam said, ‘So what happens now? Do we just—’

       
‘Just a minute,’ Ged cut in solemnly. ‘Mal – you’ve still not told us what happened back there?’

       
‘Yeah – what about Lee?’ said Sam. ‘Is he dead, or what?’

       
Suzie’s heart lurched into her throat. She hadn’t even noticed that Lee was missing until they mentioned him. And now they were saying he could be
dead
? What the hell was going on?

       
Mal shrugged. ‘I don’t know, man, I didn’t really see anything.’ Leaning back on his elbows, he squinted up at them through the smoke as he explained what had happened in the yard. ‘I followed him over the wall, as you know, and the next thing I knew they were shooting. I rolled off to the side when I heard the first one, and I think it was Lee who got hit ’cos he made this weird sound – sort of a grunt, like. Anyhow, I rolled out of the way and banged into this bin thing. Then the other one went off, and the next thing I knew, Pasha landed at my bleeding feet!’ Laughing nervously, he brushed a cone of ash off his chest. ‘Shit! I didn’t know if he was gonna turn round and shoot me or what, so I pushed myself back against the wall, just in case, like. And that’s when I felt this  . . .’

       
Leaning sideways, he pulled the bag towards him.

       
Sam sat forward. ‘What is it?’

       
Mal shrugged. ‘I reckon it’s the dosh, but I ain’t exactly had a chance to look yet, have I?’

       
Ged gulped a mouthful of tea. ‘Well, don’t you think you’d better?’

       
‘Yeah,’ said Sam. ‘At least then we’ll know it wasn’t a waste of time.’

       
Mal held his hands up. ‘All right, all right!’

       
Releasing the drawstring, he reached into the sack and pulled out a handful of notes.

       
Sam’s eyes widened. ‘Shit, man!’ he gasped, reaching out to touch the money. ‘How much is that?’

       
Mal pushed Sam’s hand away and spread the notes fanlike across the coffee table. Looking up, he grinned. ‘They’re all twenties.’

       
Plunging his hand back into the bag, he pulled out another bundle.

       
‘Wow!’ Sam squeaked. ‘How much more is there?’

       
‘Hang on!’ Mal laughed, putting his hand in and pawing the rest of the money out.

       
Suzie’s jaw dropped as she saw the huge pile of notes. Mal and Sam looked at each other in amazement. Then, whooping joyfully, each grabbed a handful and waved it in the air ecstatically. Only Ged seemed troubled. He sat forward, his hands clenched so tightly between his knees his knuckles turned white.

       
‘Man, oh man!’ Sam laughed. ‘There’s got to be nine, ten grand here. Let’s count it.’

       
Mal picked up the bag and gave it a shake. ‘Hang about. There’s something else in here.’

       
A large package fell to the floor with a dull thud. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, bound tightly with string, and there was something written on the top right corner.

       
Sam craned forward, his eyes on stalks. ‘What is it? What’s it say?’

       
‘Will you just wait!’ Mal laughed at Sam’s impatience. He picked the package up for a closer look. ‘It’s just initials. An S and an M. That’s all it says.’ He turned it over in his hands with a shrug.

       
‘Open it, then!’ Sam was itching to get his hands on it. ‘It’s probably more.’

       
Unravelling the string, Mal carefully unfolded the package. ‘Holy shit,’ he whispered when he saw what lay inside.

       
‘What? What is it?’ Sam was becoming frantic. ‘Is it more?’

       
‘It’s more, all right,’ Mal told him, his voice husky as he fondled the three bulky wads. ‘A
whole lot
more.’

       
Sam whistled quietly. ‘We’re rich, man. We’re bloody rich.’

       
‘Aren’t we forgetting something?’ Ged spoke so softly it took a moment for his words to penetrate their bubble of euphoria.

       
‘What’s that, Ged?’ Mal looked up dazedly. ‘What did you say?’

       
‘I said, aren’t we forgetting something?’

       
‘What d’y’ mean?’

       
‘Lee?’ Ged didn’t much care for the bloke, but this was outrageous. ‘He’s lying back there, dead or dying, and you two are drooling over the bloody money like a pair of vultures. If you had a brain between you you’d be thinking about the police. Don’t you think someone would have heard the shots and called them by now?’

       
Mal clutched at the money possessively. ‘Oh, come on. No one saw us. You’re just being paranoid.’

       
‘Jeezus!’ Ged snorted. ‘I don’t believe you. They might not have seen us, you idiot, but Lee’s still lying back there with a bullet in him. How long do you think it’ll take for the police to identify him and start looking for his associates – and that’s us, in case you’ve forgotten? And just think for a minute, man. How did we get back here?’

       
Mal shrugged. ‘In the car. What’s the big deal?’

       
Ged nodded slowly. ‘That’s right. In the car – Lee’s car. If the police start sniffing about it won’t take them long to trace it, and it’s sitting right outside your bloody flat covered in our prints. How incriminating is that?’

       
Mal and Sam exchanged a worried glance. They hadn’t thought of that.

       
‘Do you think I should go and move it?’ Mal asked.

       
Ged looked at him coldly. Not so cocky now, was he? ‘Did you have gloves on?’ he asked.

       
‘No,’ Mal admitted, feeling stupid. ‘Should I go and wipe the wheel down, or what?’

       
‘What about your masks?’ Ged reached into his pocket, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt his.

       
‘Mine’s in the car,’ bleated Sam, his face losing its colour again.

       
‘Where’s yours, Mal?’

       
‘It’s cool . . . I got rid of it,’ Mal said, proud that at least he’d got that right.

       
‘Where?’

       
‘In the bushes, at the . . . shops . . .’ His voice trailed off as the implication hit him.

       
‘Oh, Mal! You didn’t!’ Suzie groaned. Even she knew that was stupid.

       
Ignoring her, Mal turned to Ged. ‘What if they find it? What’ll happen?’

       
Ged felt the heavy burden of responsibility passing onto his head. Sighing, he rubbed a weary hand across his eyes before answering. ‘They’ll send it to forensics, and with your record they’ll trace it straight back to you. Shit, man!’ he hissed in exasperation. ‘What did you leave it there for?’

       
‘I don’t know,’ Mal moaned, slapping his forehead. ‘All I could think was not to get caught with it on me. What am I gonna do?’