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Authors: Steve Mosby

Tags: #Fiction, #Crime, #Mystery & Detective, #General

The Cutting Crew (37 page)

BOOK: The Cutting Crew
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Ten seconds passed with no sound whatsoever - just that awful, premonitory ringing - but my heart was beating like I'd woken up drunk, and I kept staring at the doorway.

Another ten, fifteen seconds of nothing. Then, I saw the light start shifting in the hallway. It didn't make sense and then it did.

Someone was in here - at the bottom of the stairs - with a torch of their own.

I got to my feet quickly. Where was my gun? I fluffed my hand over the dark mattress a couple of times and found it, just as something creaked downstairs. Shit. I picked up the rifle case and with a rueful glance back at all Sean's papers and books - I made my way out into the hallway as quietly as I could.

Torchlight flickered across the top of the stairs. Then, it disappeared back down and I heard another creak. Someone was making their way slowly up the stairs. More creaks. I backed down the hallway, but I knew that there wasn't going to be time to get into one of the other rooms. I caught quick, bulky movement at the top of the stairs; a silhouette; flashing shadows. I raised my gun just as light dazzled my eyes, but before I pulled the trigger the light passed over me, zig-zagging back and forth over the doorway to Sean's room. I just stood there frozen as the big figure paused at the entrance. He had a torch in one hand and a gun in the other.

Rosh.

I stared at his illuminated profile for a second, but then he stepped forward and moved into the room. Somehow, he hadn't seen me; he'd moved his torch straight over me and not noticed I was there. I was still aiming my gun at the empty hallway. How the hell had he found me here?

Part of me wanted to call out to him, but I didn't. He had his gun drawn and he seemed ... what? Full of purpose, I realised. The truth was that Rosh didn't draw his gun unless he thought he was going to use it. I'd have drawn mine too, coming into a place like this at night, but as far as Rosh knew I'd shot two cops that afternoon, and probably killed Rich too. I didn't know how much of that Rosh either knew about or believed, but he would certainly be wanting answers from me. And he'd probably be quite careful about his safety while getting them.

I took a tentative step forwards. Despite the earlier fluke, I figured it was going to be impossible to get past the open doorway and down those stairs without him seeing or hearing me. I could hide in one of the other rooms but he was bound to look in them all eventually.

I heard the sound of papers moving, and guessed that he was looking through Sean's collection. The moment he rested his hand on the bed he'd feel that it was warm and he'd know someone was still here.

Sooner or later, this was going to have to be done.

I walked to the doorway and turned to face into the room. Rosh looked up immediately. He was sitting on the edge of the mattress holding the book of myths in his hands, his gun close beside him.

The light was turning his oddly-shaped face into something far more monstrous. I raised my own gun slightly. Not pointing at him exactly - just letting him know it was there.

'Martin.'

'Easy,' I said. 'I hate to do this to you, Rosh. I really do. But I need you to move that gun over my way. Pick it up by the barrel.'

He looked at me for a second. Perhaps he was weighing up the likelihood of me shooting him. I really didn't know what would happen if he made a move instead of doing as he was told - maybe I would actually have done it. And that seemed to be the conclusion he came to as well, because a moment later he picked the gun up slowly and then slid it over the floor towards me. It finished at my feet.

That's cool,' I said. Thank you.'

'No, it's not cool,' he said, nodding at my hand. 'It's greedy.'

'Okay.'

I slipped the gun into my pocket. I could still get to mine before he did his, but a token gesture was better than none.

'Happy?'

'A little closer to being cool,' he said. 'Yeah.'

His expression was utterly blank, like someone who was just soaking up his situation and leaving the thinking for later. I looked at him, searching for some sign that he was on my side. It wasn't there, of course, but at least he didn't seem angry. In fact, he looked slightly sad, and that deflated me. It was like my fucking dad was here, disappointed with my behaviour.

He said, 'So. Let's talk.'

'Okay. What I'd really like to know right now is what you're thinking, Rosh. I've had a weird afternoon.'

'I'll bet. What I'm thinking about what?'

'About me, I guess.'

'About you? Okay. I don't know what to think at the moment. I want you to tell me everything, and then maybe I'll make my mind up.'

'Everything?'

'Yeah.' He sat forwards a little; but not quite enough to make me nervous. 'I'll start you off. Tell me why I got a call from Rob Hedge's flat earlier on this evening and found his body there waiting for me.'

It took me an entire blank second to realise what he'd just told me.

'They killed Hedge?'

'Someone killed Hedge,' he said. 'Yeah. And a number of independent witnesses gave a pretty good description of you.'

'I was there,' I said. 'But I didn't kill anyone.'

Except that probably wasn't true - I'd killed him just by turning up there. By taking the money in the first place. By carrying on Sean's investigation. All of it. Pick a fucking reason.

'We've got the bullets,' Rosh said. 'They took three of them out of his head. Are they going to match your gun?'

I shook my head. They won't match my gun.'

'Well, I guess we'll find that out. What about the two cops this afternoon, then? We have CCTV footage of you running, and the next bit is out of frame but both of them ended up getting shot.

What about those bullets?'

Those ones will match,' I said. 'But they were trying to kill me, Rosh. It was self-defence. Just like last night.'

'It's different to last night.' Rosh shook his head. There's any number of fucking reasons why it's different. Try a practical one: nobody knows about last night. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but there's a lot of people out there just itching to kill you right now.'

'Oh, I can imagine,' I said. 'Are you one of them?'

He gave me that sad look again.

'I'm surprised you even have to ask.'

'It seems a pretty pertinent question,' I said, nudging his gun with my foot.

'Well, you've got one of those too, Martin.'

That's true. So what do you think? You honestly think I killed Hedge and the others? Rich? You think I killed Sean'

BOOK: The Cutting Crew
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