Dead Pretty (7 page)

Mark moved to face Tony now, pressing the gun into his face. The man was starting to smell bad.

‘Come on, Tony.'

‘Diamonds. Whenever she went over to Amsterdam. We used her modelling work as cover. She got well paid, there was no need for any of this to happen. No need for this problem, man.'

‘I'd call getting her stomach sliced open more than a problem.'

‘I didn't have no part in that, Mark, I swear to you I didn't. I told them Stellachi was crazy, that there'd be problems with you, but they don't care, man, they don't care nothing about stuff like that. They just wanted their goods. Lena got greedy, and tried to cross them.'

Mark slapped him with the gun again. It was instinctive, and it kept him from pulling the trigger. Tony's face was becoming messy. His eyes glassy.

‘For fucksake don't kill me. I'm only the message boy, sometimes I fix up the odd thing. I should never have been anywhere near the flat. They wanted me around because I was the go-between for Lena.'

‘Don't even think of moving,' Mark said.

He went to the window. The street was empty, the faint edge of dawn challenging the orange lights, the loneliest part of the day. There was no way of knowing if Tony was telling it straight, but his fear was not phoney. There'd always been plenty of money in the last few years, modelling pays, Lena said. Though he'd never seen her in any of the major magazines she read, he'd just accepted it. Now Mark wondered if any of it was true. He wondered if he'd been a convenient pick up, to be also used as cover. He turned back to Tony, who was now lying face down on the sofa, blood from his head wounds seeping out steadily.

‘Don't go to sleep on me, Tony. Where are you from? Don't tell me fucking Coventry.'

‘I'm a British citizen.'

‘Where?'

Mark was shouting.
Psycho Eyes was
coming back. Explosive teenage rages that he'd thought had drained from his system long ago were taking on adult form.

‘Albania,' Tony muttered.

‘What?'

‘Albania. I got out fifteen years ago. I was what they call an asylum seeker now. Flutura came later.'

‘Who?'

Flutura   Lena. She's Flutura Proli. She changed it to Lena Stolitz over here, when they got her a British passport. Same as me, Tony Stolitz.' Tony sighed, and seemed to calm down a little. ‘Flutura,' he said quietly, ‘it means butterfly.'

Mark thought of butterflies, on his native hillside in spring, orange, black and yellow, fragile wings blown around helplessly by the wind, but still getting where they wanted to go. Sometimes a fancy one would settle close to him, and he'd be amazed by its patterns. Getting fewer and fewer each year.

‘What's your connection with Lena?'

‘I knew her when she was a kid. I knew her family. I helped her when she got here.'

‘Yes, you really helped her, didn't you.'

Mark thought of hitting him again. Tony tensed for the blow and tried to curl away from him, but Mark stayed his hand. Each sliver of information he extracted from Tony was a knife in the heart for him, and if he struck Tony again he doubted that he would stop. The man's face was already like raw steak. He knew Tony had slept with Lena. Too much fucking knowledge.

The cigarette started to burn Mark's fingers, and he stubbed it out quickly. He picked up the other one and put that out too. Tony was opening up now, talking for his life.

‘Things was tough over there,' Tony said. ‘We had nothing. You people here don't understand how rich you are.'

‘Who are you working for?'

‘People from the old place. I was introduced to them when I first got here. They helped me, set me up and stuff. I just done favours for them, take a package here, take something there. When Flutura came over, they got her modelling work. They could use someone classy like her, someone who would be travelling around a lot. Like me, she was desperate to stay here, and when you are desperate, you do anything. They fixed it all, the passports, the jobs, even English lessons. We were in paradise, then they wanted a return.'

‘You were living with Lena?'

Mark felt his throat dry up, he could hardly get the words out. Tony was weighing up the safest answer. Truth or lies might kill him, but Mark knew the answer anyway. It was another shock for Mark, that Lena could ever touch this gelled-up, oily snake. He brought the gun closer again.

‘All right. Yeah, for a while. They wanted it that way, and you don't say no to these people.'

‘Were you with her when she met me?'

‘No, I swear. That was nothing to do with anyone, just you and her. We'd gone our own ways by then.'

‘Why was she killed?'

Tony breathed in deeply, coughing up a little blood.

‘Stay put,' Mark said, but Tony wasn't in a state to do much else.

He went to the kitchen, wet a towel and brought it back.

‘Clean yourself up a bit.'

‘Thanks.'

‘Why was Lena killed? Like that?'

Tony started muttering to himself, holding the towel and rocking again.

‘Fuck, man. I can't …'

‘You can. You're almost there, Tony.'

Mark rotated the old fashioned circular barrel of the gun. It was more like something from the American West than a modern weapon.

‘Where the fuck did you get this?' Mark muttered.

He pushed out five bullets, left one in its chamber and spun the barrel. Again it felt like he was acting out a film he'd seen so many times –
make my day, punk,
but this was real.

‘What you doing, man?'

Mark pointed the gun at Tony's head and pulled the trigger.

Tony yelled and put his hands in front of his head. The trigger fell on an empty chamber.

‘Don't they play this game in Albania? That's not too far from Russia, is it? You like to gamble, don't you, Tony, you just won at five to one. It might be in the spout this time.'

Mark rotated the barrel again.

‘OK, OK. Lena changed when you came on the scene. She wanted out, then she got greedy, like I said. Some of the goods went missing the last time, but they thought it was at the other end. Someone in Amsterdam paid. But this time more went and it had to be her. Lena wanted money for a house, she wanted to get a place with you. In the country. She'd always wanted that. I told her she was crazy, you can't do that with these people. They never let you go, but she wouldn't listen. She was always so confident.'

Mark couldn't believe Lena had done all this without him being aware of anything. Streetwise Mark, alert to everything at all times. What a joke. He would have stopped her if he'd known, got her away. Mark felt Tony was telling this part straight, but he wondered what else had gone on over the years. Maybe he'd never know, but he did know what Lena had done with the diamonds, and how they'd got them back. Her death was no ritual slaughter or the act of madmen, it was business, of the bloodiest kind. These men did not care to wait.

‘I didn't think they'd do that,' Tony said. ‘They told me afterwards it would be a lesson, for all the others. I was sick, Mark, I swear it.'

Mark heard the chink of bottles outside. Milk was being delivered to the shop a few doors down. Another day was starting.

‘They didn't get them back,' Tony muttered.

‘What?'

‘The diamonds. They didn't find them. They are worth half a million, maybe more. You could buy Albania for that. They won't stop looking, that's why Angelo came for you.'

‘They think I might have them?'

‘Why not? Who else could she have given them to?'

‘Do you think I have them?'

‘No.'

‘I want some names, Tony.'

‘What good will it do? For you or me? This is a big organisation, man, they make money from everything. Drugs, girls, smuggling, phone scams, Internet scams   the Internet is the new heaven for making money. My people think that God sent it for us. Some of my people have always been like this. Albania is …'

‘Yeah, I know. Bandit territory.'

Tony nodded. ‘You can't touch them, man. We'll both die.'

‘But you a bit sooner than me. Anyway, what do I have to lose now? I might have killed that guy with you already.'

Tony shut his eyes and thought for a moment.

‘All I know is that things are run here by Agani, Alex Agani. Everything goes through him, he deals with the people in Amsterdam. He works for them. A lot of the money goes there and comes back as diamonds. I don't know what happens after that, you have to believe this. I just took them from Lena and passed them on.'

‘And Angelo?'

‘Agani keeps him around as a minder. He likes hurting people. There's another one, even bigger. I don't even know his name. Angelo calls him the big man.'

‘Angelo didn't do too well just now.'

Mark knew brute force impressed Tony, it was impressing him now. Brute force for brutal minds, it was the first law he'd learned. Mark turned off the light. The sun was up now, low over the opposite rooftops, spraying the room with silver light. Mark phoned Kelly's mobile. It rang for a long time before he answered it. Kelly's voice was shaky, the alcoholic waking up dry, with a tongue like a cloth. The fact he'd answered at all was a result.

‘Oh, it's you, Mr Richards. See, I didn't turn it off. Jesus, what time is it?'

‘Time for you to be up. Get your arse in gear, stick your head out of your door and look down the stairs.'

‘Uh?'

‘Do it now.'

It sounded like Kelly was falling out of bed. Mark heard a few
fuckit
s, and a general stumbling around.

‘I don't get it,' Kelly said. ‘There's just the fucking stairs, they ain't going nowhere, are they?'

‘Lock your door and go back to sleep   and keep the phone on.'

‘All right, I got it on the charger, just like you said, Mr Richards. Uh, do you need me for anything else? I could do with a few more quid.'

‘I'll get back to you.'

So, it was Kelly and himself against what sounded like Albania's version of the Mafia.

‘Why do you live in Coventry?' Mark asked.

‘They wanted someone in the Midlands. We are doing a lot of stuff up there.'

Mark noticed Tony had changed from
they
to
we
again. He'd been talking for his life, trying to put distance between himself and his friends, but he was one of them, and no better. Maybe he had played a direct part in Lena's death, maybe he hadn't. Mark knew he could never be sure, and it was the only reason Tony was still alive.

‘Where does this Alex live?'

Tony started to sweat again. The room was heating up and it had been a long night.

‘Look Mark, don't even think of going there. You'll get yourself killed and what good that's gonna do?'

At this moment Mark felt that this might do a lot of good, if he could take a few with him. The idea of the big sleep used to fascinate him even when he was a kid, when there seemed to be no future, and life had the taste of burnt paper in his mouth. Then Lena came along.

Mark threatened with the gun again. It seemed as if they had been playing this game for a lifetime.

‘Ny' burrr i madh,' Tony murmured.

‘What? Speak English.'

I said he's a very big man. An important man.'

‘Aren't they always,' Mark muttered to himself. ‘Where, Tony? It's the last time I'll ask.'

Tony sighed.

‘One of them penthouse jobs. Greenwich way. Look there's always two or three guys with him, they come over all the time on false passports. Alex sort of trains them up, then they go all over Europe. The States too now.'

‘Write down the address,' Mark said. ‘Make sure it's the right one because you're coming with me.'

He pulled Tony up with his free hand. Looking at the man, smelling him, he knew he didn't need the gun any more. He put it in his waistband, then dragged Tony to the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet.

‘Stay put until I tell you to move.'

Mark dashed a lot of cold water in his face, then drank a glass of it. He was coming into a second energy surge. He'd go all day now before he dropped. Then sleep would have to take him, if he was still alive.

Tony's lurid shirt was made more so by the blood that stained it. Mark let the man wash himself then took him back to the living room. He looked for a shirt for him and told him to put it on.

‘We don't want to attract attention, do we?' Mark said. The shirt was black and too big but it calmed Tony's appearance.

‘For fucksake man, get away, while you have a chance. What you done to Angelo won't be forgotten, they can't afford to let that go, but if they can't find you it will pass.'

Mark wondered what had happened to Angelo.

‘Look, can I have some coffee?' Tony asked,' I can hardly walk.'

‘OK. Make me some too. All the stuff's in the kitchen.'

Mark sat by the window and watched Tony through the open kitchen door. The man was playing for time but coffee was a good idea. Tony looked at the knives in the kitchen but what little nerve he had was long shot.

Tony brought out two large mugs. He could have thrown them in Mark's face, but he placed them carefully on the table. Tony had at least told it straight about being a fixer, this man was no soldier. He'd let others deal with the situation now, and try to save his skin.

Mark took in the scene outside. People were opening shops, shutters going up, delivery vans arriving, a few early joggers out in the park. Shopkeepers were hosing down their fronts, the day smelt clean in the early sun, clean and fresh. All days start with a lie, Mark thought.

There was little chance of revenge, and even less of resolution. Mark wondered if Lena had been working that time in Paris. There would have been plenty of chances for her to slip away and collect something. His past with her could no longer be trusted, memory was being adulterated.