Tony Black - Truth Lies Bleeding

McArdle put out a hand, resting it on Tierney’s shoulder. He was interested enough, but unsure if he could trust him. ‘This isn’t some bloody scam, ’cause if it is, I’ll burst you all over this town.’

Tierney double-blinked, quick movements, unnatural. ‘No. Straight up.’

‘And you want to sell to me?’

‘Sell, yeah. We do.’

McArdle closed his mouth, brought a hand up to his head. He ran fingertips over his crown — the tight cut of the razor felt good to the touch. He walked away from Tierney; he didn’t trust him. He was trash, a junkie. His girlfriend was a junkie too, hardly the type to be doing any sort of business with, never mind one like this.

‘Are you sure Vee’s game for this?’

Tierney shrugged. He looked to his left, then his right; his thin shoulders poked through his top. ‘Yeah, she’s sound.’

McArdle felt a wariness creep up on him. He didn’t like getting too involved with this sort of people. Taking their money was fine, but any more than that was asking for trouble. But he had dealt with this pair before. Maybe it would be all right. ‘I’m warning you, Barry, if you’re up to something and I-’

He butted in, ‘I’m up to nothing… we want paying. Nothing else. Just a few quid, eh.’

A laugh, splutters. ‘You think there’s a drink in it for you? You pair of greedy bastards.’

Tierney tried to smile but his heart didn’t look to be in it. His teeth were yellowed and broken when he showed them. The hollows in his cheeks deepened as he widened his grin. ‘Well, last time…’

‘Times change, Barry boy… times change.’ That took the smirk off his face. The state of him, thought McArdle, he’d sell his own flesh and blood for a fix with a smile on his face. Well, a sort of smile. Even for McArdle this was low; Tierney was the worst of trash. ‘We’ll see.’

Tierney arked up, ‘But-’

‘No fucking ifs or buts. We’ll see.’ McArdle needed to think about it. Finding the buyer was no trouble, and the money was good, but he didn’t trust Tierney. Junkies were bad news. To a one, they were bad luck. Carried it round with them.

‘Well, what about just now?’

McArdle shook his head, grabbed Tierney by the face. ‘You scrounging, that it?’

‘I gave you fifty.’

‘That wouldn’t clear you a week’s interest on what you and Vee owe me.’

‘But-’

McArdle pushed back Tierney’s face. The junkie stumbled a few paces and fell onto the slabs. ‘You’re nothing but trash, y’know that?’ McArdle dug in his pocket, pulled out a couple of wraps and threw them at the addict. Tierney scrabbled about for them, picked up the wraps fast and pushed himself up. He struggled to find any purchase, his shoes slipping on the wet slabs as his thin arms stretched out behind him. ‘You won’t regret this, Deil,’ he said.

‘Get out my sight.’

‘Will you tell me soon, then?’

‘I said fuck off… Get out my sight.’

McArdle watched Tierney struggle to his feet, then saw his slope-shoulders jink round the corner. He moved to sit on a low brick wall, trying to gather his thoughts. It was simple enough taking cash for a few wraps, but what the junkie was offering was something else. It was complicated, fraught with potential pitfalls, and meant working with more people than he was used to — and he was used to being in full control, in charge. The Germans would be the ones paying up, so they’d have all the power. He didn’t like that. Still, the money sang to him. It was very good money last time and maybe he could ask for more now. McArdle knew the junkie’s offer was too good to be passed up. It was chancy, always was, but wasn’t everything? He removed his mobile. As he delved into his contacts, and dialled, McArdle was already counting the cash in his mind.

Ringing.

The line was answered on the third chime.

‘ Hallo.’

‘Gunter… that you?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s Devlin McArdle.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Just enquiring… If the supply channel was to open up again, would you be interested?’

There was no sound except static on the line for a few moments, then, ‘Interested?… I believe we would be.’

‘You would?’

‘Yes, Mr McArdle… I think we could almost guarantee it.’

Barry Tierney was sweating and flushed when he returned home. As he slammed the front door of the flat behind him Vee appeared in the hallway. Her dirty blonde hair had been scraped back and tied in an elastic band. Her eyes bulged and watered. The edges of her mouth were cracked and scabbed. She grabbed him. ‘Did you get it?’

Tierney pushed past her. ‘Leave me be.’ He shuffled towards the bathroom and closed the door quickly behind him. Vee followed, banged on the door. He felt disturbed to be alone in the small room; it was full of demons, but his bladder ached and there was nowhere else to go.

‘Barry, you bastard… Open this door.’

‘Shut it.’As he relieved himself he heard the child start to scream in the other room. ‘See to that kid, for fuck’s sake.’

Vee continued to bang on the door. ‘Barry, open up… You better not be holding out on me!’

He shook out the last drops of urine, pulled up his joggers. His hands were shaking at the prospect of the wraps he’d taken from the Deil. He touched the sides of his head, tried to think, but nothing came. He ran fingers through his hair, then tucked his hands beneath his arms, but the process did nothing for him. He couldn’t concentrate in this place. He didn’t want to be alone in there but there was a racket going on outside that he couldn’t face.

‘Shut it, Vee, I’m warning you, shut the noise up or I’ll put you through that fucking wall.’

The banging stopped.

He heard Vee sliding down the back of the door, then her tears as she sobbed at the gap above the carpet. She had been crying hysterically the night before, but that was for another reason. She probably wanted to block it out too.

‘Barry, you can’t leave me here if you’re holding… You just can’t.’

‘Is that all you’re bothered about? Eh, is it?’

Her voice lowered. ‘I need a hit, Barry… more than ever.’

‘We know why that is, don’t we.’

She snivelled, ‘Why are you doing this?’

Tierney ran the taps in the sink, trying to drown out her shrill voice. He let the sink fill up, dropped in his hands, then splashed his face. He thought about dunking his head, blocking out the world, but he knew a better way.

‘I saw him, by the way,’ Tierney yelled, ‘… in case you’re interested, I saw the Deil.’

Silence.

Slowly, the sound of Vee shuffling on the other side of the door came. ‘What did you say?’

‘You heard me all right.’ He smiled to himself: he had the upper hand again. She was always easier to manipulate, to control, when he had something to hold over her. He couldn’t recall ever having anything as weighty as this, though.

‘You told him about…?’

‘Of course I didn’t fucking tell him. Do you think I’m mental?’

Vee stumbled over the words: ‘Th-then how… I mean, what did you say?’ She sounded worried now; he could hear the fear pitched in her voice.

‘I told him what we agreed.’

She had no response to that — of course she didn’t, she couldn’t argue with him. Tierney heard Vee start to move again. She was rocking, her back pressing on the other side of the door. With each movement the sound carried pressure towards him. He felt the walls in the small bathroom closing him in. He peered at the bath, scrubbed clean for once. Tierney couldn’t remember the bath looking so clean — it was bright white, sparkling. He looked in. He didn’t want to, but felt compelled to. A smell of bleach caught in his nostrils. He couldn’t stay there any more, opened the door. ‘Get up… See to that kid!’