Die Tryin' (23 page)

‘Let me get this straight. Last night, the night Taki was murdered, you saw Charlie sitting on a park bench near the church?’ Nick XR2 said slowly, as if
he
were now the detective piecing together the timeline of events of the previous night.

Nick Black nodded. ‘Yeah.’

‘After I rang Tony to get you all, or before?’

‘After. He wasn’t at home, and his phone was off, so we went without him, but we spotted him nearby. You know how fond he is of park benches. So, we picked him up, and brought him to the church.’

‘And did he say where he was going? What he was doing?’

‘He just said he was going for a walk, clearing his head. Sounded dodgy then, sounds worse now.’

Nick XR2 reflected on what he was hearing, biting his bottom lip.

‘Coincidence isn’t it?’ Nick Black asked.

Nick XR2 immediately nodded. ‘Yes. Indeed it is…’

‘You think Charlie…?’

‘I don’t know,’ Nick XR2 replied as he stopped at a zebra crossing to let an old lady cross. She began ambling across the road at a snail’s pace. ‘But this throws a whole new angle on the situation. And with that in mind, and all the other stuff we learnt, it looks like Charlie killing Taki is now a plausible scenario…’

‘And that means one of us might be next!’ Nick Black said abruptly with great alarm.

Nick XR2 gave him a solemn nod of the head. ‘That’s why I think we better keep an eye on Charlie from now on, Nick,’ he said. ‘Make sure he’s…’ Nick XR2 paused, turned his mouth downwards, and started nodding.
‘behaving.’
He then turned to face Nick Black, who felt his eyes roll in their sockets of their own accord as he digested what had just been discussed. Charlie was definitely a weirdo, and so who knew what he was really capable of. Even if they did know him pretty well, do you ever really know someone one hundred percent? Do you even know yourself that well?

And when he thought about it, Charlie making shit up about Marco (about ghosts for Christ’s sake!) murdering living human beings, was that his way of covering up what he did?

Or was he just totally fucking insane?

And suddenly, from nowhere, another image popped into Nick Black’s mind. Taki, in the wheelbarrow, his hand outstretched, his finger pointing at Charlie’s back as if to say ‘he’s the one who did this to me.’
A message from beyond the grave?
Or just more paranoid nonsense?

He went to get Nick XR2 thoughts on the matter.

But XR2 spoke first, stopping Nick Black from even opening his mouth. ‘There he is,’ he said.

Nick Black looked to where Nick XR2 was indicating to see Tony standing nonchalantly outside the police station, a can of Stella in his hand. A flush of relief washed over Nick Black. He never thought he would be so happy to see the big ol’ lump, and suddenly thoughts of Tony killing Marco were pushed to the back of his mind because a weight had been well and truly removed from his shoulders.

Nick XR2 beeped his horn. Tony’s head spun round, and when he clocked the infamous XR2, he grinned widely. He raised his can to them before taking a big gulp. When they pulled over, Tony stepped forwards, and Nick XR2 wound down his window. Tony’s face popped up there, and Nick Black suddenly had an unpleasant bout of déjà vu to the night before when that nasty copper had been doing the exact same thing. The recollection sent a shiver coursing through his body.

‘What’s up, boys?’ Tony said in a jovial voice, and took another big gulp of his beer.

‘How come you’re out?’ Nick XR2 asked straight away, like Nick Black, wanting to know what happened.

‘They let me out,
re,’
Tony replied. ‘I sweetened ’em up. Smooth talked ’em into letting me go.’

‘Yeah? How?’ Nick XR2 asked.

‘Told ’em I’d fix their car for ’em free of charge if they let me go,’ Tony replied. He took another sip of his beer and then belched.

‘Don’t lie!’ Nick Black retorted.

‘I’m not,
re
! I gave ’em the old Tony Savva charm. Sweet talked about how I’m sorry, and I lost my head, and I’ll make up for it,
blah blah blah
. And then they let me go.’

‘No way,’ Nick XR2 said, smiling.

‘I’m telling you, that’s what happened. Fucking soft touch the law in this country, believe me. You can do what you like. All I gotta do is fix up the damage I done by Monday. They want me to go to some drug rehab place as well, but I told ’em I don’t do drugs. Fuck knows what that’s all about,’ he said, taking another gulp of beer, and then glancing behind him at the station.

‘Don’t matter, Tone.’ Nick XR2 said. ‘Just don’t bother going. You’re out now, so fuck ’em.’

Tony smiled, and now Nick Black noticed the black eye he was sporting. ‘They done that to you?’ he asked him.

‘What?’

‘The eye,’ Nick XR2 said, tracing a finger around his own eye socket.

Tony reached up and touched the bruise. ‘Yeah, bastards done it when they had me on the floor.’

‘I know, we saw,’ Nick XR2 stated.

‘Told ’em I’d sue, and they shit themselves. Had ’em by the balls.’ He took another swig of beer. ‘Fuck ’em. Hey…’ Tony then leaned in closer and lowered his voice. ‘You sort out that other thing?’

Nick XR2 cut his hand across the air. ‘All sorted.’

‘We good?’

‘All good,’ Nick XR2 said, nodding and smiling. And the way they both seemed so pleased about the end of Taki sent voices—jagged edges of paranoia—flying through Nick Black’s mind.
They ARE in this together; they DID get rid of Taki; it WAS all some kind of plan,
each one said.

Just shut it, Nick,
another voice said, a more reasonable voice.
There’s nothing going on, you’re just paranoid.

‘Come on, get in,’ Nick XR2 said to Tony. ‘If that copper from last night clocks us with you he might wanna nick
us.’
Tony finished off his Stella, crunched up the can, and threw it in a nearby bin.

He then jumped in the back seat. ‘Least I get a day off work,’ he said and rubbed his hands. ‘Let’s go to the offy, get the beers in, and get shitfaced to celebrate my release!’

‘What about your car, Tone?’ Nick Black said. ‘It’s still at the church.’

‘I’ll pick it up tomorrow,’ he replied, waving his hand on the air. ‘Relax, man. It’s all good.’ He looked around him. ‘Where’s Charlie?’ he asked.

‘Dunno,’ Nick Black responded.

‘His phone’s off, and he’s not at home,’ Nick XR2 added. Nick Black and Nick XR2 glanced at each other, now remembering what they had been speaking about before they found Tony.

‘Fucking speed freak!’ Tony said curtly. ‘What the fuck was he on about last night? Ghosts and shit! The geezer’s fucking mental! Probably somewhere right now, talking to all the dead people!’ Tony bellowed, tapping the seats in front of him, trying to get a laugh out of them.

But, the two Nick’s just glanced uneasily at each other, and didn’t say a word.

*****

While the others were collecting Tony from the police station, Charlie was on one of the park benches at Tally Ho Corner, his head in his hands. He still hadn’t slept, still hadn’t eaten for God only knew how long. Once again, he found himself surrounded by the damned—hobos, drunks, junkies. He wished Snow White would come, but for some reason she was staying away; only the bad ones, the ones he didn’t want to listen to, were with him.

‘Look around you Charlie,’ a voice said to him, but it wasn’t in his head, it was coming from the thing sitting on the bench next to him. ‘This will be you once I’m through with you.’

‘I did what you wanted me to,’ Charlie replied, his head still in his hands. ‘Now, leave the rest of us alone.’

‘I’ll leave you alone when we’re even!’ the voice rasped. ‘When I get back what’s mine!’

‘Why don’t you just take it back and finish with us?’ Charlie asked. ‘Tony didn’t know what he was doing that day. He lost it.
He does that
…’

‘I don’t care about Tony, or you. It’s about teaching you all right from wrong.’

Charlie lifted his head up and stared at the hallucination (or at least what he wanted to believe was a hallucination) sitting next to him. It had a putrid, black aura surrounding it like he it been stuck up a chimney for a week. Its whole body seemed to shimmer like bad reception on an analogue television. Charlie always put such visual effects down to sleep deprivation.

‘I
know right from wrong, Marco,’ Charlie replied. ‘It’s the others that don’t.’

Marco leaned forwards, and Charlie looked into his eyes; they were two big black dots, devoid of any signs of life. Dead as dead as dead. ‘That’s why you’re gonna teach ’em, Charlie. Because
you
know the difference, and I can’t do it myself.’

A shiver jolted up and down Charlie’s spine.

Marco then stood. ‘I won’t be around for a while,’ he said. ‘But, I’ll come back. You hear me, Charlie?’ he asked. ‘I’ll come back.’

Charlie said nothing. Instead he just stared at the collage of pigeon shit on the ground by his feet. Marco was torturing him, and there was nothing he could do or say. Nothing.

Marco ran the show and that was final.

Somewhere to his right, a hobo sprawled across a park bench started talking loudly in his sleep. Charlie looked up to see him scratching his arse while he rambled to himself. He diverted his stare, turning his head to the side; he was met with an empty bench, and no one else around.

Marco was gone.

He said he would come back.

Charlie wondered to himself exactly when that would be.

Tony wanted more coke.

Badly.

The day he had been dreading for most of his life had finally snuck up on him, mugged him, then beaten him senseless, and the whole experience was even worse than he ever imagined it would be.

He was at the Bloomsbury Hotel, London, ‘celebrating’ Maria’s wedding day. She carried on seeing that twat Mario behind his back. Soon enough, she was ‘in love,’ and then declaring that she wanted to marry the prick.

Next thing Tony knows, he’s sitting at a table that seated twelve, all on his fucking Jack Jones, nursing a bottle of scotch.

He looked around him in disgust. The
bouzouki
band were too loud. His massive family were just annoying. But, Maria and her poncey husband bouncing around the place all happy while he was in his own pit of misery was the worst thing. The food wasn’t bad—nice chicken in some kind of white wine sauce—but that was the only plus point.

He puffed his cheeks, bored and frustrated.

He looked around him. A cute girl sitting at a nearby table caught his eye. He checked her out. Nice tits.

Maybe food wasn’t the only good thing on offer…
he thought to himself and licked his lips.

She spotted him looking at her and smiled.

Tony grabbed his bottle of scotch and got to his feet. He licked his hand and used it to slick his hair back.

Get your game on, re…

He staggered over to where she sat, making sure to stick his chest out as far as he could. When he got her table, he cleared his throat loud enough to grab her attention. She looked up at him; he towered over her.

Tony smiled again. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

‘Hello,’ the girl replied. ‘How are you?’

Tony pulled out the chair next to hers and took a seat, plonking the bottle of scotch down hard on the surface of the table, making her flinch.

Tony sighed casually and leant in closer to her. ‘How about we go get ourselves a room upstairs and finish this off…?’ he asked in a low seductive voice.

The girl’s eyes widened in horror, her jaw dropping and hanging there as loose as a hammock.
‘Room?’
she asked incredulously. ‘Tony,
I’m
your cousin.’

Tony felt his face scrunch up in confusion. ‘Cousin?’ he echoed, and then stared at her with a suspicious frown. ‘I don’t recognise you. Who’s your dad?’

‘My
mum
is Fanoulla Dimitropoulou.
She
is your first cousin.
Her
dad is your mum’s brother. I’m Lydia.’ She was looking at him with a ‘hello?’ expression on her face as she spoke.

Tony drew the family tree in his mind. ‘That makes you, us… second cousins, right?’

‘Yeah…’

Tony’s eyes lit up and he began grinning. ‘Well, that’s all right,’ he said. ‘As long as we don’t tell anyone. Come on.’

He grabbed her upper arm and started getting to his feet.

A disgusted look emerged on her face as if she had just smelt five day old shit.
‘What?’
she exclaimed, pulling away from his grip. ‘Tony, I can’t believe what you’re saying!
Ugh!
Go away, please.’ She turned away from him, her shoulders shuddering afterwards.

Tony gave her a hot, angry glare.
Cousins? First, second, who cared as long as they looked good?
He wasn’t planning on making any babies with her, and she had been watered down enough anyway. Wasn’t his fault his family was so big some of his aunties and uncles were old enough to be his grandparents. He so badly wanted to say something to her, call her a bitch or a
putana
or something, anything, just to even out the rejection she just hit him with. Restore some of his masculine pride that had been dented.

He reached for her shoulder just as a hand clamped itself on his own.

He spun round to be faced with his cousin Christo.
‘Re
. Let’s go have a bit of…’ he said, tapping his nose briefly.

Tony grinned and nodded. ‘Yeah. I was just catching up with our cousin Lydia,’ he said out loud half facing Christo, half facing Lydia’s back. ‘You remember her?’

Christo stared at her for a few seconds. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘But mind you, I’ve got so many relatives in this gaff right now that I haven’t seen in years, so…’ He shrugged.

‘Exactly,
re
. Too many to mention.’

‘You coming then?’

Tony nodded.

He bent down and put his face next to Lydia’s ear. ‘See you around, Lydia,’ he said and planted a kiss on her cheek. Lydia almost jumped out of her skin and swung her head away, knocking over a glass of wine in the process. Its contents spilt across the table and landed on her
yiayia’s
lap.