Ken Bruen - Her Last Call to Louis MacNeice

I sure as hell didn’t want her story so bowed my head and she changed direction.

‘Mind you, it’s hard to picture you married.’

‘Excuse me?’

As she struggled for words, I thought – yeah, I’m a liar, say it.

‘You have the look of a single man, used to pleasing yerself. Married men have a more confined expression, as if they’ve suppressed a sigh for too long. It’s not a criticism, only an observation.’

I wanted to say – psychology bloody one eh, but drank my tea, muttered, ‘Laura was the world to me.’

It had the desired effect, her face took a wounded look.

‘There I go again, me ’n my big mouth. My George used to say…’

‘Is that the time, I’ll have to run… thank you for the tea.’

I left her mid-sentence with whatever nugget of wisdom bloody George had bequeathed. I didn’t think I’d short-changed myself. At Portobello Road a guy was shouting, ‘Keep England for the English.’ I remembered Nick Hornby saying in his football book, ‘By the early seventies I had become an Englishman, that is to say I hated England just as much as half of my compatriots seemed to do.’

Well.

I’d finally got up with the Letterman Show and what I couldn’t understand was – just wot was the fucker laughing at all the time. Rang the number, he answered immediately, the voice so like Cassie, ‘Yo, talk to me.’

‘It’s Cooper.’

‘No shit… the one-man crime wave. What’s your beef buddy, I mean first you take out a cashier and then your partner. Are you nuts or what.’

‘That’s not exactly what happened.’

‘Whatever you say buddy. You sure pulled in a shit-pile of greenbacks.’

‘Can we meet?’

‘But will I come away in one piece?’

‘Of course.’

‘Sure, I’ll meet you buddy.’

‘Thanks… thanks a lot. I’ll be in the Magdela Tavern at nine tonight. That’s in South Hill Park, NW3.’

‘Whoa, hold the phones, lemme just get this down… okey-dokey. Why there, I’m gonna need my A-Z.’

‘It’s where Ruth Ellis caught up with Colin Blakeley.’

‘You’ve lost me buddy.’

‘The film Dance with a Stranger .’

‘Miranda Richardson, right?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Well I’ll see you there. Don’t shoot anyone else… OK.’

And he rang off.

I hadn’t told him Ruth Ellis waited outside the pub which is exactly what I planned. At least the waiting part, the rest would just have to be played out.

That evening I arranged the money in a suitcase, row by row of neat piles. I tried not to visualise the cashier. Snapped it shut and shoved it under the bed. If I didn’t get back, the landlady would eventually find it. Would she give it up or leap for bloody joy… go find a new George.

Wore the donkey jacket again and put the Glock in the right-hand pocket, easy access. Dark jeans, shirt, and trainers, said, ‘Cassie.’

I was parked outside the pub at eight forty-five. Letterman drove up at nine on the button in an Audi, parked recklessly and went into the bar. I estimated thirty minutes tops before he’d decide I wasn’t coming. It took forty-five. He came stormin’ out, got in the car and roared away.

He was easy to follow, an angry driver sees only his road. Aston Towers had the smell of money and he drove into a basement garage. I waited fifteen minutes then went to check the name bells. Rang the top one, a woman answered. I said, ‘Pizza for the Trentons.’

They buzzed me in. I found the stairs, went to the first floor, knocked at a door, a voice said, ‘Who is it?’

I took a breath then tried a loud Yank accent, ‘David ’ol buddy, you ready or what.’

‘You want 4B for Godsake.’

Not a sound in the place. Money buys quiet. Listened outside 4B, could hear nothing, rang, kept my face in profile. Letterman asked, ‘What ya want?’

‘Electrician.’

He threw the door open and I said, ‘Our next guest is…’

Put the gun in his face and added, ‘Let’s take it inside.’

He backed slowly away from me into a living room. Cassie was lotus style in front of a huge TV, or is that yoga. Anyway with her legs folded, hands resting on her knees. Dressed in shorts and a halter top, for all the world like Sarah Miles at rest.

‘Guess what… she turned up.’

‘I can see that.’

‘No, I mean like… today. Go figure huh…’

Cassie said, ‘Put on some music, maybe the artist formerly known as Prince for the guy who used to have hair… how would that be.’

I said, ‘Everybody stay put – and you fuckface, wot’s yer real name.’

‘Believe it or not, it’s David. Is that serendipity or what?’

‘You knew I couldn’t understand how Cassie could follow me so successfully… but, if she’d a partner… What I can’t get is why.’

Cassie shrugged, ‘Bucks – as mundane as that.’

Letterman smiled, said, ‘You’ve gotta admit, you’re a natural patsy, the original fall guy.’

I used the gun to indicate the room, asked, ‘But this place, the Audi…’

‘All hired.’

‘And are ye… related?’

Letterman gave a snigger, ‘Only in the sack buddy.’

Cassie began a series of stretches, said, ‘What are you gonna do now hot-shot. I mean, you have a plan… right.’

Letterman added, ‘No shit buddy but first, I did give the straight gen on one thing… I was in the Marine Corps and they showed us …’

He did some split-second manoeuvre, his leg shot out nd my gun went flying across the room

‘… this …’

With a second kick to my chest I was thrown back across a sofa to curl on the floor in agony.

‘… and that … impressive huh!’

Cassie retrieved the gun and examined it closely. Letterman hunkered down in front of me, said, ‘See this hand, not a fist… watch the birdy.’

Shot it into my chest. The pain was nothing I’d ever experienced, it burned screaming into my brain. I couldn’t help it and roared, he roared right along with me. When I stopped he said, ‘I guess you won’t tell where the loot is but I’ve got a few methods to change your mind. Lemme give you a pointer, it involves a needle.’

Believed him, said, ‘I’ll tell you.’

And did.

My body was paralysed. I couldn’t move to even relocate the pain. Letterman said to Cassie, ‘You wanna do him sugar?’

‘Why bother, just leave him.’

‘Hey babe, he’d come after us… motherfucker doesn’t know how to quit.’

‘We could drop a dime on him, let the cops have his ass.’

‘Naw, he’d give us up.’

He bounced upright and left the room. My eyes locked on Cassie’s, hers had an expression of… such softness, it was eerie. I asked her, ‘Did you burn my house?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘To get your attention.’

Back he came with a kitchen knife, saying, ‘This fucker’s not even sharp but, what the hell.’

Cassie said, ‘Let’s not do this.’

‘Get real babe, he’s a liability.’

And bent down whisperin’, ‘Thing about a blade is… it’s so personal, goddamn intimate. Am I gettin’ hot already… Cassie… I’m gonna need my ashes hauled.’

The shot was loud in the room and a coin-sized hole appeared above his left eye. Then he fell beside me. Cassie said, ‘We’re pulling the plug on your show, the ratings just aren’t there.’

Again I tried to move but the effort was awesome, she said, ‘If you he very still for a time, gradually the agony will slip away.’

‘How the fuck would you know.’

‘He’s done it to me.’

She began to collect her things and then rummaged in my clothes, found a key to my room. So close I could have kissed her. Then she laid her hand on my bald skull, said, ‘I prefer you with hair.’