R.I.P Robbie Silva (12 page)

Gail rose up.
As I looked at her I suddenly understood why she reminded me so much of Jody. Then I knew what Ben had said was true.

Gail
looked down.

I wanted to see her smile.

I wanted to see her sigh, in relief.

I wanted to see her run to me, open arms, shower thanks on me.

But she cried.

'
Gail
,' I said. I put the
gun down on the sofa
, went to her.
Silva
writhed on the floor.

'
Gail
, why the tears?'

She couldn't find words. Breath was
a
trouble. She raised her hands to her face. 'He's in pain.'

'So fucking what?' I said.

Silva
slapped about on the floor, grimaced in agony.

She started to pat her cheeks, make bellows of her face. 'He's in pain.'

'So fucking what?' I repeated.

I
stomped past her,
p
icked up the gun again and shoved it in Silva's face
.

He yelled out: '
You're
fucked,
Jed Collins
!''

I
smacked the gun off his head; I
wanted
Gail
to see him in agony, the way he'd seen her in agony – I hauled her down.

'Look at his face. Remember that ...' I grabbed
Silva
's hair; he screamed as I smacked at his head. 'See the way he's squirming, trying to get away?'

She looked.

'
S
ee him?'

I wanted her to see her father in pain, but more than that I wanted her to see him in terror. The kind of terror he'd inflicted on her.
I was full of an anger I didn't know I possessed.

'
Gail
, see him ... ?'

S
he froze. I think she understood. I took the shooter and aimed it at
Silva
, but
thought i
t was too easy a way out for him. I threw the gun down,
roared at him
. 'You dirty fucking bastard. Your own daughter ... your own daughter.
How?
You fucking animal.'

I knew the words I wanted to say; they came easily. They were the same words I'd wanted to say to my own father.

'You dirty bastard. You dirty fucking bastard ... your own daughter.'

I was crying. I
watched
my
tears falling on
Silva
's
chest
. The look on his face was defiant though; he couldn't care less what he'd done.

He smiled, laughed at me. 'You dumb bastard ... the
whore
loved every minute of it!'

I
was motionless as
the
gun we
nt off
behind me
. I felt my ears ring. One side of me went numb. I turned
quickly
to see
Gail
holding the
shooter; she was
motionless. Her face cold, firm.

Dark blood pooled on the floor under
Silva
's groin.

'Is he dead?' she said after a few moments.

'Yes.'

She looked at me; her look had changed. 'What now?'

I grabbed a deep breath. 'We take the money.'

'Where?'

I looked out the window; it was starting to rain, said, 'I hear the weather's nice in Spain.'

'
Spain
?'

'I know where there's a boat leaving. If we're quick ...'

###

Tony Black is Irvine Welsh's favourite British crime writer. The author of six critically acclaimed crime novels, his works include the Gus Dury PI series:
Paying For It
,
Gutted
,
Loss
and
Long Time Dead
, the final instalment of which will be filmed for the screen by Richard Jobson in 2012. His police inspector series, featuring DI Rob Brennan, includes the titles
Truth Lies Bleeding
and
Murder Mile
; both published by Random House UK. An Ayr-set crime thriller,
The Storm Without
, is also available from Blasted Heath. Before turning to the novel, Tony was an award-winning national newspaper journalist covering subjects as diverse as crime and nightclub reviews. He still writes for the press from time to time but most of his non-fiction now turns up on his blog,
Pulp Pusher
, and his
website
.

For news, reviews, interviews and lots more about Tony Black and our other great authors, visit
Blasted Heath
.