Sing Like You Know the Words (57 page)

-What theory?

My theory about you, I’ve told
you before, is that you’re harmless and good at forgetting. You’ve
done it before, remember?

-I forget

-That’s the spirit. But do
remember this: you’ve lived through enough parts of this story to
see that it could have different endings. The happy one for you is
where you follow this path down the hill, get in the old red Seat
that fits these keys, pick up the pocket money that’s in the glove
compartment, and drive to somewhere very quiet where no-one knows
you and you’re never heard from again. And remember what I told you
once before, friends who put you in situations like this are not
your friends.

Ray tossed the keys in Walcott’s
direction. The other made a feeble reflex attempt to catch them.
The keys fell to the ground in front of him.

-Will the car explode when I
turn the key?

-Why would I waste a perfectly
good Seat, when I could shoot you here? It’s high mileage but it
runs fine. And I don’t like waste. Your idea is messy and stupid.
Me giving you the car is better; another business expense. It’s
deductible against something, though god knows what. But I have to
say you’re trying my patience standing there arguing about it.
Frankly at the moment you are proving to be a troublesome
expense.

-Maybe you’ll shoot me in the
back when I start walking down the path.

-Could be, but even though you
seem to be a sleazy coward, I sort of like you, I don’t know why.
People I like, I generally shoot in the front. And some important
people want you dead, so maybe this is my statement for them.

-What kind of statement?

-Think of it this way. I’m a
soldier, not a murderer, and you’re very much a civilian. It’s an
imaginary distinction, but I’m not so stupid I don’t know that a
man has to invent a code and live by it. On the other hand I’ve got
places to be. Watching you clinging to that rock like the world was
spinning so fast you might fall off is starting to bore me. I think
you’d be wise to piss off now before I change my mind.

-I’m leaving.

Hawkins stood unmoving in the
blazing sunlight. He watched Walcott bend and reach for the set of
keys he’d fumbled and finally drag himself upright. Ray smiled as
Walcott stumbled away, never looking back; into the cool welcoming
shadows between the trees.

END

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Martin Sowery or connect with the author online at my webpage
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