7
I went straight to the gates. F*ck checking outside, I just slammed them shut and got the bolts down, then carried on struggling to put on the mask. I only had one eye uncovered. I must have looked like the phantom of the f*cking opera.
There was a big drum roll and a clash of cymbals from the Primorski, followed by a round of applause. If I hadn’t been so knackered, I’d have taken a bow.
Broken glass, spent brass cases, wet concrete and two pools of blood glinted in the courtyard lights. Fighting to get my breath back, I ran over to the car.
It looked like someone had thrown a bucket of red paint across the car’s interior. The driver’s body was slumped, face sideways, over the central console. It was Baz all right, and he didn’t look good. He’d taken rounds in the head, neck and shoulder, and his once-grey hair was crimson.
I checked the front end. The bumper had absorbed most of the punishment, and one of the headlamps was cracked, but I reckoned the Technik was still Vorsprung. I pulled the door open, grabbed hold of Baz’s arm and dragged him clear.
By the time I returned to the house, my throat was as dry as sandpaper.
‘Charlie!’
‘Up here.’ His voice came from the landing.
‘Dead body. Bring some bedcovers down, anything. Got to cover the car seats.’
I ran into the office and grabbed my boots. No time to do them up properly; I shoved the laces under the tongue so I didn’t trip up. Speed was everything; we had to get out of here.
Back in the yard, I rolled Red Eyes over and pulled the folder from his jacket. Charlie jumped down the steps with two multicoloured bedspreads dragging behind him.
‘Any luck with the CCTV?’
He shook his head. ‘Could be anywhere – on that PC, for all we know. Let’s just f*ck off and get on the flight. You OK with that? Or stay and look some more? I’m up for it if you are.’
I stood by the car. He was right. Why waste time on a blood-filled target, with three dead bodies for company? ‘Let’s go.’
We threw the bedspreads over the front seats.
Charlie dumped the satchel in the back and I jumped into the driver’s side. I knocked the remaining shards of glass out of the window frame while Charlie checked the road.
The moment the gates were open, I hit reverse. Charlie secured the gates as well as he could, and jumped in beside me, lodging his pistol under his thigh. We started uphill, towards the blinking red lights of the telecoms mast.
As we passed the left to the Primorski, two stretch Mercs were picking up a crowd of very young women and very old men.
At last we were able to pull off our masks, and Charlie started to giggle. ‘Well, you f*cked up there, didn’t you, lad?’
‘Heads up, we got police.’
Ablue-and-white had turned into our road, heading downhill towards us. It was slow, taking its time. I checked Charlie – did he have blood on his face? He checked me – if I had, it was too late. We passed them; they looked over and two red spots of heat between their lips got brighter as they sucked.
Charlie nodded at them. ‘Evening.’
They passed Baz’s house without stopping.
‘Evening? If they’d heard you they’d’ve stopped us just to investigate that accent.’ I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. It wasn’t the joke, it was pure relief.
Wind gusted through the driver’s window. I took a hand off the wheel and slid the folder out of my jacket. It was looking a bit the worse for wear but at least there were no bullet holes in it.
Charlie scanned the streets for blue-and-whites. ‘They must already have been in the house, waiting for Baz to come home, make him open the safe, get whatever it was we’ve got here, then drop him.’
‘I thought Whitewall said he was away at some national park or something, till the morning? And since that was bollocks, where does it leave us with everything else?’
I swung the wheel right and left, weaving between the potholes. ‘Maybe they were waiting for him to turn up in the morning. They’d have seen us coming into the yard. That must have been what we heard – those f*ckers in the front room. When we opened the safe for them, they must have thought it was Christmas.’
I took a left, up towards the cemetery. ‘I knew I should have looked in the larder . . .’
‘If you had, they might have just dropped us.’ He started to laugh again. ‘But hey, we’re still here, aren’t we? A quick trip to the DLB and then it’s bye-bye Georgia.’
We bounced over the open ground opposite the cemetery. There were still quite a few cars parked around the place, and Charlie pointed under a tree, where the ambient light from the petrol station finally gave up trying to penetrate the darkness.
I switched the engine off and killed the lights. I sat there, just looking and listening. ‘You OK?’
‘I’m fine. But the old hands are wobbling a bit. Maybe you should do the drop-off at the DLB. I’m not sure I’m in the slab-moving business any more.’
‘Done.’ I smiled. ‘Then it’s back to the hotel for a shit, shave and shower. Thank f*ck it’s Sunday. With luck, Baz won’t be missed till tomorrow.’