One Night (26 page)

The phone disconnected before Eve could say anything back.

She held her tears in, bit her lip so hard it hurt so that she to keep them inside. She did it because she knew if even one got out she wouldn’t be able to stop them. They were building inside her like lava in a volcano that was about to erupt. The pressure behind her eyes was unbearable. She looked at the phone in her hand and knew what she had to do. Joel started speaking and she waved him quiet.

The calming sound of the ring tone sounded in her ear as she called back. She was hoping to hear her mum’s voice. Needed to hear it.
The voice that had calmed and advised her throughout her life. Soothed her and scolded her. The sound of it was as much a part of her as her fingerprints. Eve wanted to speak to her mother, to tell her it would be okay. To give back that reassurance she’d been given all her life.

But instead of that calming, reassuring tone came a polished, mechanical voice asking her if she’d like to leave a message.

“Oh God,” she said and hung up.

Joel reached out to her, touched her arm. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“It’s Mum. Harry is there. She was crying, Joel. She sounded terrified.”

She
realised she was crying. The tears rolling down her face, the heat of them almost painful on her cold skin.

Her phone chirped and she looked down at it as the screen lit up to show the text message she had just received. It was from Harry. ‘Hurry up, Eve. Don’t keep me waiting.’

She felt her stomach churn.

Until now the night had been exciting, thrilling even. A whirlwind that had carried her along and not given her time to do anything but experience it. There had been times when she’d been scared; moments when her heart had felt like it had been broken; but nothing like the sickening sense of terror and guilt that now filled her whole being.

“What will he do?” said Joel.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. Harry doesn’t live by the same rules as other people. He’ll tell you that like it makes him some kind of an outlaw, like it’s something to be proud of. It isn’t though. He’s just a nasty, vicious man. He uses other people to get what he wants. He used me, used my Dad. Now he’s got Mum. Because he knows that will get him what he wants. The money.”

“He won’t hurt her. I promise you, Eve. I won’t let him. This is nothing to do with you. This is my fault. If he wants the money he can have it. None of it matters, not a penny.”

She stared at him, knowing that he meant every word. Hoping that it wasn’t already too late.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said. Joel started the van’s engine. Put it in gear. Drove. 

Harry sipped his whiskey. He’d not had a drink all night but now he needed it. There’d been a bottle of Scotch in the cupboard in the kitchen and he’d pulled it out gladly, pouring a healthy dose into a mug he’d picked up from the draining board.

The bottle had been dusty, the label faded. It’s probably Max’s he had thought as he took the bottle out. Vintage Scotch left to him by his dead brother, he thought with a smile. It was Bells and still tasted cheap. That slightly metallic taste that inexpensive whiskey has filling his mouth. It burned a little going down and that felt good. It brought him back to himself. What was life without a little pain? 

The woman was crying in the other room, his sister in law, arms wrapped around herself on the settee. Her whining was making him feel sick. He didn’t want to hurt her, she was an old woman. But he would. He knew he would. If he had to. That was the kind of man he was, he did what was necessary. Always had since he was a kid. Sometimes it hurt, sometimes it was hard but he did it anyway. Because it was necessary. So if he had to put the frighteners on her to get the money he would. And if she made him hurt her with her fucking crying then that was her problem not his. Eve could sort it all out though. She just had to turn up with the money.

Harry put the mug down on the kitchen table and looked at his hands. There was too much blood on them. Too much for one pair of hands. Enough for an army. That was why he kept his fingernails short, closely clipped so that the pink of his fingers poked out from underneath them. It was so he couldn’t see the blood under them.

He heard a vehicle pull up outside. Not a car, something bigger than that. He poured himself another shot and drank it down quickly. No one would blame him for taking a little Dutch courage with what he needed to do.

He looked at the object on the kitchen table. He’d had it with him all night but hadn’t needed it until now. It was heavy in his hand as
he picked it up. Heavy and cold.

He'd had the gun for years but he'd never killed with it. When that had been necessary he either hadn't had the pistol with him or the circumstances had demanded another means of attack. Either the circumstances or his mood. A gun was such an impersonal weapon and sometimes his emotions got the better of him. Sometimes he needed to use his hands or at least something that let him get in close. Like he had the first time.

He'd threatened people with the gun though, seen their faces pale with fear as they stared at the hollow black eye of the barrel, its gaze fixed just as surely on them.

He knew threatening would be necessary tonight. He hoped the killing could stop at one, that no more blood than that was necessary to resolve things. You never knew though, and if it had to be done then he was man enough to do it.

The gun was loaded, he always kept it that way. They said you weren’t supposed to but it wasn’t like he had any kids. For Harry a gun was a tool and what was the point in a tool if you couldn’t use it when you needed to.

Eve had a key and she used it. Opening the door and stepping into the hallway she’d know all her life. Harry was standing at the opposite end of it in the kitchen doorway. Joel was behind her and she felt trapped between her future and her past. She had known Harry all of her life, couldn’t remember him not being around. Joel she’d met just hours ago. Facing forward she felt something close to hatred. Behind her she felt the glow of Joel’s presence.

“Thank you for coming, Eve,” said Harry in that oily voice of his. “I knew you’d do the right thing by your family. By me.”

His voice was loud and confident but it didn’t block out the crying coming from the living room.

“Let’s just do this Harry,” she said.

Harry's left hand was casually gripping the door frame, his right was out of sight. The frame cut across his forearm, leaving his hand hidden in the kitchen, the rest of him on display. The angle of his arm made it look like the hand was resting on a worktop. Only Joel didn't think it was resting, he thought it was waiting.

Joel was immediately conscious that Eve was between him and Harry and the gun he thought that right hand was holding. The man's voice sounded calm as the words poured out of his mouth but his body told another story. He looked as tired as Joel felt. The flesh around his right eye kept spasming in a tic which might have been caused by nerves or exhaustion. The whole right side of his body was full of tension.  Like the gun Joel was sure he was holding was sending waves of nervous energy out into his bloodstream. Joel worried the strength Harry was getting from the weapon was the only thing keeping him going. That it had overwhelmed whatever reason and humanity he might have had left. Joel had seen that happen to Danny. The power of the cold steel in his hand had changed him. It was like it had given more strength to the demons inside him.

Eve stopped when she saw Harry. They hadn't talked about it on the journey, what they were actually going to do when they got here. The drive had been a headlong rush,
Eve sitting in appalled silence, Joel not knowing what more to say to calm or comfort her, instead just concentrating on getting them to the house as quickly as possible.

Now he wanted to step around her, block her, but he couldn't get past. Part of him knew that if Harry was going to shoot anyone it would be him but the urge to protect her was instinctive. 

He looked at Harry again. His car was parked out the front of the house, empty. Joel assumed that the other guy from the office was in the house somewhere. Probably watching Eve’s mother. He could hear the woman crying, a horrible desperate sound that took him back to the panic room and the dealer's wife.

"Come in then," said Harry. 'Mi casa es su casa."

Eve made a small noise that could have been either a moan or a growl but she stepped forward into the hallway and Joel followed her. As soon as he was through the door he stepped around Eve. Standing side by side they faced Harry who took his left hand off the door frame and ran it through his hair.

"I see you brought it," he said, nodding at the bag that hung heavier than ever from Joel's hand.

They spoke at the same time. Eve said, "We just want this to be over." Joel said, "Of course we did."

Harry laughed. "Aren't you sweet, you
lovebirds? Just a few hours and she's opened her heart to you. And her legs no doubt."

Joel dropped the bag and took a long, quick step forward. He knew it was what Harry wanted, that the insult had been thrown in there just to get a reaction out of him. He was way past logic or reason though, all he had left was instinct and emotion.

The gun made its appearance then as he'd known it would from the moment he'd seen Harry. It swung quickly out of hiding like it had a life of its own. To Joel it seemed like it was leading Harry's hand rather than the other way around.

Joel stopped dead because he could see the murderous intent in those three dark eyes staring back at him. Harry wanted to kill him. For revenge or reward or kicks; the why didn't matter but the intent was all too clear. It felt like they both wanted his blood, Harry and his gun. The bloodlust was clear on the man’s face, as plain as the viciousness Joel had seen on Reynolds’s and Danny’s and the boys he’d fought in the children’s home as a child. Or the ones who had gathered round and gleefully watched as the knife sliced into his cheek.

His gut told him that Harry wouldn’t shoot him though. A gunshot and a corpse in the early morning with that distinctive car outside. It all added up to more trouble than a crook as long in the tooth as Harry would want.

“Don’t,” said Eve and that single word stopped Harry. Joel didn’t know if it had cut through the bloodlust or it was just that it gave Harry the excuse he needed to lower the gun without it looking like it was his dick going limp.

“Okay sweetheart. You’re right, there’s no need for any nastiness.” His eyes were on Joel the whole time though. Fixed on him. The third eye of the gun may have looked away but Harry’s were just as full of death. “Let’s go in the front room, finalise this little transaction. I’ll show you mine and you can show me yours. Make sure we’re all happy that everything is as it should be.”

Joel kept his mouth shut. This was about Eve and her mother, not him. He was just there to carry the money and protect them. Both of them.

Eve walked past him and turned off the hallway through a door on the left. As she walked into the room she made that noise again. Maybe sorrow, maybe anger, likely a little of both.

Joel kept his eyes on Harry who nodded at the door. He followed Eve through it, felt Harry come up close behind him as he did it. The hard end of the gun jabbed into his back and Harry spoke in a low voice that just barely reached Joel’s ear. A whisper like a lover’s caress.

“Don’t get any ideas, one wrong move and I’ll shoot your fucking cock off. I ought to do it anyway you dirty fuck.”

Joel didn’t reply. He walked into the room and let his eyes take it all in. Eve bounded forward in front of him, she obscured his view for a second but before she did he saw the woman sitting on the sofa. She was so obviously Eve’s mother that seeing her so distressed felt like a knife twisting in Joel’s stomach. The pain on her face lifted slightly when she saw Eve but there was still far too much of it there. Joel couldn’t see any sign that she’d been physically hurt but even in the short time that Harry had been there he’d clearly terrorised her.

Sitting opposite her was Harry’s man. He looked bored, tired. Like someone at a family party who’d rather not be there. Joel took in that look and wondered how much of a part he’d played in the expression of sheer terror on the woman’s face.

Eve was with her mother instantly, her arms wrapped around her and her lips on her forehead and cheeks showering them with kisses. She was struck like she had been in the hallway by the fact that her past and her future were here. The mother who had raised her and the man who she wanted in her future. The two people she loved most in the world. The only two people she’d really loved since her dad had died.

“Happy?” she heard Harry say behind her. “Here she is are, all fit and well. Now, how about you get that bag open and show me the fucking money.”

Joel didn’t waste any time, he dumped the bag on the floor in front of Harry and ripped it open.

“Perfect,” said Harry. “Just perfect.”

He knelt and plunged his left hand into the bag. He pushed it through the neatly wrapped bundles of cash on the top, digging deep like a kid at a Lucky Dip. The hand came out again clutching one of the white and brown bricks, fifty ten pound notes held together with a crisp white band. Harry gave a little chuckle. As the sound left his mouth Eve looked back over her shoulder at him. Joel could see the look on her face but he didn’t quite understand it.

“What have you done to her?” she said to Harry. Joel looked at her then at her mother. He realised that the woman hadn't spoken since they'd entered the room.

That quick glance he'd had of the older woman a minute ago had told Joel she was upset but now that he could see her properly he realised it was more than that. She looked shocked. Shell-shocked. Like something had happened that she couldn’t wipe her mind clean of.

Harry didn’t react to Eve’s question, didn’t even seem to notice that she’d spoken. The gun was still in his hand, pointing down at the floor now, almost forgotten. Joel could see that the money had cast its spell on him, overcoming even the deadly power of the weapon.

Eve spoke again, louder this time. “Harry, what have you fucking done to her?”

Harry heard her that time and turned back to look at her. “I’ve done nothing, Eve. Just spoken to her, shared a few stories from the old days.”

He turned back to the money and was lost in it again immediately.

As Harry knelt there, transfixed by the sight and the smell of all that money
, Joel wondered if he should jump him. He could wrestle that gun away, turn it on its owner. He played the scene through in his head but too many times the fight ended with the gun going off and a bullet slicing through the flesh of one of the innocents in the room. In his mind's eye he saw again the carnage of the panic room replayed in this cosy, homely space.

"If only I could keep it," Harry murmured
, pulling him back to the present.

"
Why not?" said Joel. "Take it. Jump in that fancy car of yours and drive. What's keeping you here, Harry? You're not married, your family don't look like they'd miss you too much. Take it. You've earned it, tonight and over the decades. Call it your retirement fund. You could be in Spain by noon, the Canaries not long after, the Caribbean by dinnertime. That amount of money would keep you for a very long time."

Harry heard the words and they were like echoes of the thoughts already bouncing around in his head. He had earned it, God knows he had. All those years of graft, building up his reputation, his empire. Always bowing to the wishes of the London mob though. What was he tonight? Their errand boy for fuck's sake. What did he have to show for all those years and all that hurt? Just the Jaguar, that was all. A fine car, the car of a man who was somebody, but when it came down to it just a car.

He pictured himself on a beach somewhere, sipping a cocktail and watching the waves roll in and out. A tidy little bottle blonde in a bikini lying next to him. Eager to please. All that money could buy a lot of pleasure. It could wipe out a lot of pain from the past too.

With the feel of money between his fingers he could almost hear the ocean. The smell of the cash was in his nostrils but he thought he caught the scent of the girl too. The sweet mix of sweat and suntan lotion. The taste of her lipstick as he kissed her.

"All the things I've done. Horrible things." He said the words to the girl and waited for her to tell him it was all okay.

"Just take it," Joel said again and Harry realised he wasn't in paradise with the girl, he was still in Southend. It felt so close now though, that golden dream.

"You know what?" Harry smiled. "Maybe I will and maybe I won’t."

He stood and swung the gun round to point at Joel. The weight of it felt good in his hand, it pulled away from him slightly as he swung it, tugging against his fingers. He stopped when he could see Joel down the barrel of it.

"Either way you and I have business to settle. Someone has to pay for all of this. You understand that, right? Money or no money, someone has to pay for all the trouble tonight."

Joel didn't even notice Eve standing up but all of a sudden she was there in front of him. Between him and the gun.

Joel could see Harry beyond her. The murder was in his eyes again. Maybe he'd figured out that if he was leaving the country he might as well settle the score before he left. Joel knew that the run-around he'd given Harry would be hard for the man to live down. That and the fact he'd slept with his niece. The money might give the old gangster a way out of his life but it wouldn't slake his thirst for revenge. Nothing would do that except Joel's blood.

He kept his eyes on Harry's and put his hand on Eve's shoulder. 

"Eve, move. This is down to me."

She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder.

“He’ll kill you,”

“I’ll be okay.” He didn’t know if it was true but he knew he didn’t have much choice. He couldn’t risk the gun going off. Not in that small room. “It’s for the best, Eve.”

“Listen to your man,” said Harry.

Eve glared at him but stepped out of the way.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of handcuffs. “Coppers aren’t the only ones can find a use for these,” he said. “Put them on, you tricky fucker while I think about what to do with you.” He threw them at Joel, they hit his chest and fell to the floor.

“Pick them up and put them on,” said Harry, the anger darkening his voice.

Joel bent and grabbed them, his eyes on Harry and the gun. “Do it, son or I’ll put a fucking bullet in you right now.” Joel nodded, he knew he didn’t have a choice. As long as he kept Harry happy Eve would be okay. That’s what he told himself anyway. Eve and her mother. The two of them eerily silent now, watching the scene in front of them.

The steel was warm on his wrists as he slipped the cuffs on.

“Cinch them up nice and tight now. Paulie,” Harry called to his man on the sofa. “You check them.”

The man didn’t move and Joel wondered what debate was going on in his mind. If Harry was running with the cash what mileage was there in helping him?

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Harry threw one of the bricks of cash at Paulie who caught it with a smile. He stood slowly and walked over to Joel. The steel was encircling his wrists, tight already. Paulie’s big hands close around them and gave the metal an extra squeeze, ratcheting the cuffs a notch tighter on him. They dug into his flesh and pushed against the bone of his wrists. The hands stayed there longer than they needed to, the pressure increasing for no reason other than the fun of it. Bolts of pain shot up Joel’s arms, but the hurt helped focus his mind. He looked back into the man’s eyes and wondered what he was thinking. He could smell whiskey on his breath and his face was ashen with tiredness but he still looked like he’d put up a fight. His hands were strong, Joel could feel that as they gripped him. The guy’s arms looked just as powerful. Paulie let go at last and stepped back

“I don’t know what to do with you, Joel,” said Harry. “I really don’t. Do I kill you now or leave you for them? What do you think Paulie? Put a bullet in him? That’s what you do with a traitor isn’t it?”

Paulie spoke for the first time since Joel and Eve had entered the room. His voice was light for a man of his size. “No reason to leave him alive. None at all.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Harry. He lifted a cushion off the sofa and held it in front of the gun as he walked forwards. Joel had seen the trick before. Knew that the thick stuffing of the pillow would muffle the gunshot enough for people to pass it off as a car backfiring.

“Get him on the ground and hold him for me,” Harry said and suddenly Paulie’s thick arm was around Joel’s neck. Paulie kicked the back of his knee and Joel’s leg buckled beneath him. There was no pain, he just lost the ability to stand and fell to the floor.

Paulie landed on top of him, his forearm against Joel’s cheek, trapping his head flat against the carpet. Joel could see Harry stepping up to him, raising the pillow with the gun behind it. Smiling.

Joel was waiting for the bullet when the screaming started.