The Solitary Man (51 page)

'What's wrong, Billy? asked the redhead. She twisted around in her seat and looked over the top of her sunglasses. The policeman parked his motorcycle about fifty feet behind the Rolls and dismounted.

'Nothing's wrong,' said Winter. He pulled his wallet out of his blazer pocket.

'Fucking cops,' snarled the blonde.

'Be nice,' said Winter. He slipped out his driving licence and folded a couple of banknotes around it. 'We'll soon be on our way.'

The policeman shrugged his shoulders and began to walk towards the Rolls. His leather jacket had a fluorescent yellow stripe running across it and there was a matching stripe running down both legs of his leather trousers. He made no move to take off his helmet and left the tinted visor down. There was a holstered gun on a thick belt around the man's waist and he put his right hand on it like a gunfighter about to draw. Winter was always nervous around armed policemen: they seemed to have less respect than villains when it came to firearms.

Winter took another banknote and added it to the others. It was probably more than the cop made in a week, but it was better to err on the generous side. He patted the blonde on the thigh.

The policeman walked up to Winter's door. Winter smiled and passed him the licence and money. The policeman took them without a word. Winter turned to the blonde and grinned. She blew him a kiss and Winter's smile widened.

The smile froze when he turned back to the policeman. The gun was now in the man's gloved hand. Winter looked up, his THE SOLITARY MAN 425 mouth open in shock. All he could see was his own reflection in the helmet's visor.

'This is for Ray Harrigan,' said the man, his voice muffled by the helmet. Before Winter could protest, the man pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked, but there was no explosion.

Winter bared his teeth and glared at the man. 'You stupid Irish wanker,' he spat. 'Can't you Paddys do anything right?'

The girls began to scream. The blonde scrambled over the back of her seat, trying desperately to get away from the gunman. Winter ignored her. He began to laugh, an ugly disjointed sound, the laugh of a man who knew he was already dead.

The gunman calmly ejected the dud cartridge, aimed and pulled the trigger again. This time it didn't misfire.