Crime Always Pays (42 page)

          'Terry, when he finds a doctor, brings him back here, gets Johnny stitched up. Although we'll have to strip him off first, make it look like he was having a shower when he, y'know, slipped.'

          'What if he tells the doctor what really happened?'

          'With Terry standing there?' Melody shook her head. 'Besides, presuming he can even talk with his mouth stitched up, his palate busted all to hell, what's he going to say? He's a coke-dealer out of Amsterdam, got ambushed on Ios by you and Terry?' Melody shook her head. 'No offence, Madge, but you don't exactly look the criminal type.'

          'None taken,' Madge said. She had a long drag on the cigarette, let it out slow.

          Melody dropped the bloody wad of paper into the wastebasket, the sign above the toilet asking for no paper waste to be flushed. Started unwinding another handful. 'So what're you going to do about Ray?' she said.

          'I honestly don't know. I guess he's entitled to what Rossi was getting.'

          'You don't sound convinced,' Melody said, hunkering down to swab at the underside of the sink.

          'I'm just tired,' Madge said. 'It's been a long week.' She shrugged. 'Maybe I'll just donate the money to charity, send him and the twins a little card, let them know all the good works being done in their name. Maybe,' she said gloomily, 'that way some good'll finally come out of Frank being a douche-bag.'

          'Goats for Africa,' Melody said, 'that kind of thing?'

          'Something like that, yeah. Although goats, I don't know about you, they give me the willies.' Johnny moaned again, slumped a little further into the corner. Madge said, 'What'd I like is if it went to some kind of rehabilitation, where you could see it changing people's lives. Maybe, y'know, education. I mean, that was the whole point of giving Rossi the money.'

          Melody nodding along as she swabbed. She said, 'You heard about this new operation, FARCO?'

Karen

Rossi got up and dusted himself off and said, 'Sicilian, yeah,' then forked his fingers at Niko's eyes like a snake striking. Without taking his eyes off Niko, he said to Doyle, 'You okay?'

          Karen thinking, Christ, first Ray, and now Rossi?

          Doyle still spreading herself across Anna, talking her down like some kind of wolf-whisperer. 'I'm good,' she said.

          'Whatever you do,' Rossi said, 'don't for the love a Christ let that bitch go.' Then, to Niko, 'What you're going to do right now is take that rod and point it at your own fuckin foot. And if I say blow a fuckin toe off, don't go rushing in 'til I say which one.'

          Karen, the last thing she wanted was Rossi getting involved, screwing her up all over again. 'Back off, Rossi,' she said. 'He's mine.'

          Rossi, searching her out, saw Sleeps first. Did a little double-take. 'Shit, man – I thought you were down.'

          'Nearly was,' Sleeps said, grim. 'The fucker's mine.'

          Ray said, 'He's no one's, okay? Everyone's walking away, it's already arranged.'

          'No way,' Rossi said. 'Guy's a cop.'

          'We know,' Karen and Ray said together. Rossi raised an eyebrow at Ray, then glanced across at Karen.

          Karen, she knew Rossi had issues with her, but even at that she was a little surprised at the way his face darkened when he met her eyes. His own getting small and mean. He pointed at her, arm straight out, forefinger trembling.

          'Who's the dead cunt,' he snarled, 'did that?'

          'Niko,' Karen said simply. 'It's why he's mine.'

          Rossi turned to look at Niko, his gun coming up to point at Niko's face. Except by now Niko, after the little exchange between Rossi and Doyle, was holding his gun about six inches from Doyle's head, Doyle still struggling with Anna, unaware.

          The way Rossi grinned, Karen's stomach turned over.

          'You shoot her,' Rossi said, 'I shoot you, the world's two cops better off. Everyone's a winner. Or,' he said, 'you can put the rod down and take your buckwheats like a man. Whaddya say?'

Ray

Ray said, 'Rossi? Doyle goes down, you go too. I shit you fucking not.'

          Doyle, hearing her name, looking up and around, flinched back from Niko's gun. 'Jesus Christ,' she said. 'Niko?' Anna whining harder now, wriggling around beneath her.

          Ray, keeping it low, said, 'What I'm thinking is, the guy's a cop, we hand him up to Johnny, let Johnny do him. That way we all walk.'

          'You're not getting it,' Rossi said, jaw set hard.

          'I get it, yeah. Guy's a scumbag, broke Karen's nose. But you're going to do time for him, Greek time? He's not worth it, man.'

          'See,' Rossi said, 'that'd be a plan, yeah, if Niko was Johnny's guy, not the other way round.'

          'He's a cop,' Ray said, 'working undercover, stinging Johnny.'

          'Not perxactly,' Rossi said. 'Johnny and me, we had us a little chat.'

          Sleeps said, 'Pyle, buddy?' Pyle backing off a step or two, a slow moonwalk aiming for the ravine. 'You leave now you'll miss the big finale.'

          'What's Johnny saying?' Ray asked Rossi.

          'He's saying he's Niko's guy.'

          'Johnny's Niko's guy?'

          'What he says. One of 'em, anyway. Says Niko's got guys, shit, all over. Paris, Milan, Vienna, you name it … He's got this set-up going with guys in Crete, down the south coast, they've been smugglers since King Tut was knee-high to his midget mother, the guy's trafficking in from Morocco, out through the islands.'

          'And Johnny's just one of these guys.'

          'Correct.'

          Ray, thinking it through, said, 'So if Johnny was to go missing, then Niko'd need to fill a hole in 'Dam. Someone he can work with, already knows. Someone like, just for argument say, our old buddy Pyle who arranged for me to snatch Johnny.'

          Niko glaring now at Pyle.

          'Sounds logical, yeah,' Rossi said. 'Hey, maybe whack Niko too while he's in the mood.'

          'Putting Niko away,' Ray said, 'that'd be worst case scenario, cause all sorts of confusion. I mean, it's an option, sure, Niko doesn't play ball. Guy doesn't even have to know it's on the slate until he says no.'

          'So Johnny goes down,' Rossi said, 'and then Niko, he's maybe squiffy about internal promotion they call it, might or might not.'

          'Pyle?' Ray said. 'If we're misrepresenting  you, maybe slandering, you want to tell us where we got it wrong?'

          Niko, still glowering at Pyle, said, 'Here's the deal. You give me Pyle, you get to run the island. Cut it up whatever way you want. I guarantee no one touches you.'

           'Sounds tempting,' Rossi said. 'I mean, it's not Sicily, could do with a few street-signs, but it's an okay place.' He said, 'Only thing is, you're dying this horrible death from buckwheats for lamping Karen, what good's it us giving you Pyle?'

          'No buckwheats,' Ray said. 'Okay? Everyone's walking away, that's agreed.'

          'Who agreed?' Karen said.

          'Jesus, Karen – what're you going to do, execute a fucking 
cop
?'

          Niko, slow, reached into his pocket and pulled his wallet. Then he dropped his gun onto the sand and brought up his badge.

          'You don't have any crucifix in there?' Rossi said. 'Some garlic, maybe?'

'I guarantee,' Niko said, solemn, holding the badge high, 'no one touches you.'

          'Except you already did,' Karen said, taking a step forward, bringing up the .32.

          Ray, turning, lunging for her arm, knew from her tone he was already too late …  

Sleeps

After, comparing notes, they worked out that Ray and Sleeps had the only guns packing ammo.

Pyle, explaining how he'd wanted Niko gone, sure, but wanting Sleeps and not Karen to take the rap, had unloaded her .32 in the Punto before handing it forward.

Mel, Rossi calling her the Klepto, the girl couldn't help herself, had long ago swiped the clip from CZ.

          And Niko, blazing away first on the beach at Karen, then at Sleeps making his getaway, then firing blind up the ravine at Anna, had left himself empty. Which was why he'd dropped the gun and gone for the last resort, the badge, putting Sleeps in mind of Dudley Smith in 
LA Confidential
, Bud White blowing Dudley away from behind ...

          Ray was packing but he was too busy rugby-tackling Karen, taking her out a split-second after the .32 went click, the hammer coming down dry.

          Which left Sleeps, already pointing at Niko's torso, the biggest target, bracing a stiff wrist ready for when the guy came up from grabbing his rod off the sand. Except Niko, knowing his gun was empty, went for Doyle instead, hooked an elbow around her throat and started dragging her backwards down the beach, a hostage.

          'Everyone drops their guns,' he croaked, 'or I snap her fucking neck.'

          Forgetting, in his panic, about the wolf.

          Which wasn't an issue immediately, the wolf coming up in a flurry of sand and springing for Ray, who was now rolling off Karen. Snarling, the jaws wider than Ray's head and about to guillotine him with one snap, only for Ray to shove his broken arm in the way, the wolf crunching down on the rock-hard cast. That only pissed her off even more, but gave Karen time to grab her collar and point, sic the girl on Niko – or Niko and Doyle, Sleeps couldn't say for sure.

          Niko, bluff called, panicked again and started stumbling backwards down the beach, dragging Doyle with him, Doyle turning red in the face, eyes bugging out, until she remembered what God gave her elbows for and sunk one deep into Niko's groin. His cheeks puffed out in an agonised squeal, and then he toppled forward as Doyle tore away from his arm and pitched forward onto the sand.

          The wolf took off from the top of the low rise like a thoroughbred, arcing out over Doyle and landing fore-paws first on Niko's chest, punching him like a furry battering ram so the guy flew a good three or four feet before touching down. His shoulders hit the sand first, the impact jolting his head back so that his throat lay open for the split-second the wolf needed. She ripped out his throat like so much warm marshmallow, then howled a moon-shivering glee and burrowed her snout again in the ragged hole.

          She got in there so deep, the blood fountaining slick and black in the moonlight, that Sleeps for a moment wanted to believe the girl had struck oil. Then he lowered the gun and turned away, went down on one knee and quietly puked onto the sand.

Doyle

Doyle came out of the bathroom towelling vigorously at her hair, saying, 'Jesus, that shit is tough to wash out.'

'Don't,' Sparks said. Sparks, greenish at the gills, had already puked twice helping Doyle get the thick, gloopy rings of blood out of her hair. She lit a cigarette and said, 'You ready to talk sense now?'

          'What's to talk about?' Doyle sat on the other bed, head tilted to one side, still towelling. 'It's done.'

          'He was a cop, Doyle.'

          'A dirty cop. Filthy. According to Pyle, and these are just the ones he knows about, Niko had three guys knocked off getting set up here. This entirely separate to his facilitating a continent-wide dope op. Plus he was this close,' she held up a thumb and forefinger pressed together, 'to strangling me.'

          'Yeah, but --'

          'You'd rather it was me?'

          Sparks tapping ash incessantly. 'So who was it pulled the trigger?'

          'That's need-to-know, Sparks.'

          'But it definitely wasn't Ray.'

          'Ray was there, sure.' Doyle shrugged. 'We all were.'

          'You're saying, no tales out of school.'

          'Who knows we were there?' Doyle shrugged. 'Far as anyone knows, Niko was in Athens. Why would they even look for him here?'

          'And you're sure he won't be found.'

          'Someone knows where to look, has access to a submarine, they might get lucky.'

          'So what happens now?'

          'You go home, tell all the girls about this guy Ron you cradle-snatched.'