Tony Black - Paying For It

I wanted to say something, but I knew time was against me. I took the Glock out of its hiding place beside the ashes and stuffed it in my waistband.

As I ran out the cabbie scolded, ‘I can’t sit about blocking streets all day you know. Lucky I never got a ticket round here.’

My mind buzzed. My hand brushed the handle of the Glock, and I felt tempted to put it on the cabbie, but gathered myself.

‘And where are we going now?’ he said. ‘Well?’

Where was I going? Had I any choices left? I knew if I took off, that was it. I’d be running for the rest of my days. Constantly looking over my shoulder. Worrying about strangers. Did I want that for Debs? Christ, did I want it for myself?

‘Well?’ repeated the cabbie.

I’d never see my mother again. I’d never see Col again either. And I might not be able to face Hod. I knew the solution was simple. ‘You selfish bastard, Dury,’ I told myself, ‘for ever out to save your own worthless hide — you coward.’

I thought about Billy. The girls. Those poor innocent Latvian girls who didn’t know what they had let themselves in for.

Then the footage of Cardownie started to play before my eyes once again.

‘Well?’ said the cabbie. ‘Where to? Tell me or get out!’

‘Turn it around again.’

‘ What?’

‘Back that way, to the hills. I’ll give you instructions on the way.’

Cardownie had a mansion house somewhere in the foot of the Pentland Hills. A place for the city’s rich to gather, where backs got slapped and plans hatched to divide spoils. Seemed as good a place as any for me to start.

After a quarter of an hour on the road I got out and tipped the cabbie with a fifty. Immediately, his tone changed.

‘Thank you very much, sir. If I can ever help you out again, just holler.’

‘Actually, there is something. Have you a piece of paper?’

I scratched down a note to Debs. If I didn’t make it, at least Milo would be properly laid to rest. I passed through the carrier with the urn inside. ‘Take it to this address and give her the letter — that should explain everything.’

To sweeten the deal, I dropped another twenty. ‘And make it snappy, eh?’

The house was Scots Baronial. Normally, I go near a building like this, it’s a museum or a hotel. To think someone lived here, with the choice of a hundred-plus rooms to rattle about in, made my spleen twitch.

A few generations back, the closest someone like me got to the landed gentry was to muck out their stables. Well, here I was now, ready to rake up some shit.

The pathway scree crunched underfoot, so I moved to the verge, and tried to shrink below the line of the windows. At the building’s gable end, I put my back to the sandstone. I saw Cardownie’s Range Rover parked beside a Seven Series BMW — the missus’s runabout?

At the kitchen window a woman in her bad fifties with bingo-wings, obviously the help, shelled peas. I limboed beneath her line of vision, tried the rest of the windows.

In a small book-lined study I found Cardownie. He sat with his back to me on a chesterfield. My heart raced, pumped fire in my veins. I ducked beneath the windowledge. I sat on my haunches, banged the back of my head on the wall and tried to collect myself.

‘What am I doing? How the hell has it come to this?’ I wondered. ‘Have I totally lost it?’

I felt sweat gather on my upper lip and brow, it dripped in my eyes as I reached for the Glock. I lifted myself to the window again to check he was still alone.

There appeared to be only one door. I figured if I dragged him back through the window, no one would be wise to me.

I took a handful of scree, lobbed it at the glass, ducked back down.

As if on cue, the latch slid open. Cardownie stuck out his head. My hands quivered as I cocked the gun.

‘From this range, I believe it would blow your head clean off. Do you feel lucky, punk?’

He looked down, a gasp.

‘Where’s the shit-stopping smirk now, Minister?’

‘I–I-I…’

‘Why don’t you save it? Out.’

The Beemer was good to go. I made him drive, heading for the city.

‘Where are you taking me?’ he asked.

‘Sorry, didn’t I mention? I’ll be asking the fucking questions.’

‘I have every right to know-’

I aimed the Glock at his crotch. ‘Maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough. This could put a serious damper on your whoring.’

Silence for the best part of the journey. I do believe I’d made myself clear. I’d put him in his place, just where I wanted him. ‘Pull over.’

At the side of the road, I ordered he take out his phone.

‘I want you to listen very carefully. You’re going to ring Nadja and tell her to meet you at Zalinskas’ casino.’

‘But-’

‘No buts.’ I cocked the Glock, put it to his head. ‘And, you better make it convincing. Your life depends on it, in case you hadn’t realised.’

He had the number on speed dial. The call went better than I’d imagined it would.

‘You’re a formidable liar, Minister. Don’t believe I could have done any better myself.’

‘I think I should warn you that this is a very costly mistake you’re making, Mr Dury.’

‘Oh, I think I’ll take the chance. Now drive.’

We put in on George Street, didn’t worry about feeding the meter. I took off my jacket, folded it over the gun, kept it close to Cardownie’s back. ‘One false move will be your last.’

I led him up a side street skirting the casino. A rotten wooden fence was all that came between us and Zalinskas’ lair. I put my foot to a weak stanchion, it split in two. Another kick and we were in, walking towards the fire escape.

The metal gates were, in contrast to most New Town premises, unlocked.

‘Good to see Mr Zalinskas is sticking to the fire-safety regulations,’ I said.

Cardownie frowned. ‘I’m warning you, you imbecile, if you go through with this-’

I put the Glock to his lips. ‘I don’t take threats kindly, Minister. I’m warning you now. Get up there, tap on Benny’s lovely french doors and when he opens up, I’ll be right behind you.’

The gun seemed to focus his thoughts. At the top of the fire escape, Cardownie rapped on the windowpane. It took Zalinskas a little time to answer.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

I stepped in. ‘Allow me.’ The Glock did all my explaining.

As Zalinskas backed into his office, followed by Cardownie and myself, one of his goons showed and reached for a shooter. I dropped him with one shot to the kneecap. As he writhed around in agony, I lifted his gun from the floor.

The gunshot had set off the wolf, it clawed at the confines of the cage, then began to wail. The wolf’s cry put the shits up every one of us.

‘Now, so we know I’m not messing… that’s the last warning shot, the next time I fire this gun it’ll be pointing at someone’s head.’

I sat them on the couch. The pug rolled about in agony, clutching at his knee.

‘The wolf can smell blood,’ said Zalinskas.

‘He’s not the only one,’ I said.

I helped the goon onto the couch, barked at Cardownie. ‘Get your belt off, tie it round his thigh to stop the bleeding.’

As I kept a close eye on them, the buzzer went. On the monitors above Zalinskas’ desk, I saw Nadja arrive.

I ran to the door, stood in wait. As she walked through, I closed the door behind her.

‘Hello, Nadja.’

‘ You?’

‘I bet you thought I didn’t have it in me.’

She looked round, first at Zalinskas, then at Cardownie and the pools of blood on the floor.

‘Welcome to the party,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you have a seat?’