Ли Чайлд - Belfast Noir

“If this were London, you’d be dead by now. You understand that?”

“In all honesty, I wouldn’t be seen dead in London. I was courteous to you in the hotel. Beating up wee girls doesn’t go down too well over here, sparks something in our dark psyche. If I were you, I’d get on the next plane home, across the water, before some nasty vigilante comes searching.”

“I’ve a couple of gentlemen not too far away, waiting in a car. They wanted to come in here, smash the place up, put you in hospital. Perhaps even worse. But I said no, Karl Kane is a smart man. Someone I can do business with. Am I right or am I right?”

“Wrong on both accounts. And as for your two gentlemen in the car?” Karl leaned over the desk. Stared directly into Butler’s eyes. “This is my kingdom you’re visiting. A whistle and I’ll have forty not-so-fucking-gentle gentlemen here in five minutes, hoping to repay the many favours I’ve done for them over the years.”

Butler shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, have it your way, but that little whore has a very expensive watch belonging to me. It’s—”

“If you use the word whore again, I won’t be responsible for where my fist lands—”

“—a Rolex Yachtmaster. It holds a lot of sentimental value in my heart. Twenty thousand quid worth of sentiment.”

Karl almost swallowed the desk, but managed to remain calm, cool, and collected. From his pocket, Butler removed another envelope. Slapped it loudly on the desk.

“There’s five hundred quid in there. See that the little . . . see that she gets it along with the message that she has twenty-four hours to return what doesn’t belong to her. Otherwise . . .” Butler stood. “Well, you fill in the blanks. I’m sure you remember where I’m staying? See you soon, one way or the other . . .”

Karl waited until Butler left the room before quickly making his way upstairs. Rapped on the door of the spare bedroom.

“Who is it?” Lipstick’s voice said.

“Me. Are you decent?”

“I’m always decent. You know that.” She laughed. “Come in.”

Karl opened the door and peered inside. Lipstick was sitting up in bed, a copy of Naomi’s Glamour magazine in her tiny hands. Her face was healing a hell of a lot better than Butler’s.

“How’re you doing, kiddo?” Karl asked, forcing a smile.

“Feeling really great.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“This is for you.” Karl placed the envelope on the bed.

“What is it?”

“Five hundred quid, apparently.”

“Five hundred?” Lipstick hungrily tore the envelope’s stomach and spilt out its contents. “Where’d this come from?”

“Butler.”

“Butler? How did he know I was here?”

“He doesn’t. He’s on a fishing expedition at the moment. He wants his watch back. He’s sentimentally attached to it, apparently, as is his bank manager.”

“What will we do, Karl?”

“ We? We will do nothing. But you, on the other hand, need to return the watch. This thug isn’t going away until he gets it.”

“I’m not giving it back.”

“I suspected that.”

“And I’m keeping the money you just gave me.”

“I suspected that too.”

“Well? Aren’t you gonna try and force me?”

“I’ve never tried to force you to do anything. I’m not going to start now.”

“Good, because I’m going to enjoy spending that bastard’s money and wearing his watch.”

“Isn’t it a bit big for a wee wrist like yours?”

“My wrist is, but not this.” In a flash, Lipstick shoved a leg out from beneath the bedclothes, the watch attached halfway up. She began snaking the leg seductively toward Karl. “What do you think?”

“What you need to think is what could’ve happened in that hotel room. It was a warning most young people in similar situations don’t get. Someone saintly must be looking over you. But even Saint Karl’s patience is limited.”

He turned and left, wondering what the hell Butler would do once he found out he’d have to add five hundred quid to his increasingly expanding Lost List of All Things Lovely.

Downstairs, Naomi waited, arms folded.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to wait and read about it in the papers? That was that nasty piece of work, Butler, right?”

“Right.”

“You’ve got to call the police, Karl, tell them he was here making threats.”

“How many times do I need to tell you to stop earwigging?”

“If I didn’t listen in, I wouldn’t know half of what the hell’s going on in here at times.”

“Well, this was one of those times.”

“Are you going to call the police or will I?”

“I have ways of dealing with Butler.”

“Yes, I read about those ways in last week’s paper. I also overheard him talking about the gang in the car.”

“He’s threatened Lipstick. You want me to turn my back on the wee girl?”

“For God’s sake! Stop with the martyrdom complex! She’s not a wee girl, she’s a woman, fully in charge of her life. You can’t keep being her knight in shining armour each time she—” Naomi stopped in midflow. Looked over Karl’s shoulder. “Lipstick? What are you doing dressed and out of bed?”

Lipstick smiled. “I’m fully recovered, and raring to go.”

“Go?” Karl said. “I hope you’re not thinking of leaving, especially the way things are at the moment.”

“Look, I love you both to death, but I’m not staying to see you arguing over me.”

“No one’s arguing over you,” Karl said.

“That’s right, Lipstick,” agreed Naomi. “This has nothing to do with you. We were only—”

“My face has practically healed, and anyway, I’ve got to get back to work eventually. It took me a long time to get my clientele list, and I’m not ready to throw it away, at least not for a couple more years.”

Karl spread out his arms in an appeal. “C’mon. You don’t need to go to work. Wait a couple more days. I promise it’ll be sorted.”

“You don’t need to sort anything, Karl. As Naomi said, I’m a woman, not a wee girl.”

“I . . .” Naomi fumbled. “I only meant . . .”

Lipstick walked over to Naomi, and kissed her gently on cheek. “I know. And you’re right. I’m a woman, not a wee girl, as Karl seems to think.”

“You’ve Butler’s watch,” Karl quickly interjected. “If you don’t intend to hand it back, you could sell it. Surely the money you’d get could keep you free from working, at least for a couple of months?”

“I’m keeping the watch for a future investment, or for someone very special,” Lipstick said, giving Karl a cheeky wink, and then a kiss on his cheek. “Now, I really must be going. I have an appointment with a client, a nice one this time.”

* * *

Tuesday evening. Naomi was just closing for the day when Detective Chambers, accompanied by Detective Harry McCormack, appeared at the door. A one-time heavy with Special Branch, McCormack was a six-three pillar of brick-hard, shit-house muscle, baptised in the fire of broken-bones, strap-your-balls-on street fights of Belfast. His ungodly face was as welcoming as a kicked-in door, and his bald head gleamed with lamplight sheen.

“We waited until everyone had gone, Naomi, so as not to cause a scene.” Chambers sounded apologetic. “Karl’s in, I take it?”

“He’s had a hard day. What’s this about?”

McCormack, chomping at the bit, said, “Why don’t you just get Kane, and we’ll tell him what it’s all about, love?”

“Love?” Naomi’s face went into battle mode. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? What’s your name?”