The Evil And The Pure (37 page)

Gawl was chuckling sadistically when he returned from his
second visit to the Tynes late Sunday night. Told Clint to expect an angry phone call in the morning, maybe even a visit. Clint asked what had happened but Gawl wouldn’t elaborate. Clint growing impatient. Gawl had said nothing about the break-out since going to see Kevin and Tulip for the first time on Saturday. He started to complain but Gawl silenced him by giving him instructions for Monday. “Go see Fr Seb when ye’re at church. Tell him ye may need him t’ put up a few friends and yerself for a while. Tell him t’ stock up on supplies, stay in after dark, not t’ be surprised if there’s a knock on his door late one night.”

“What if he
wuh-won’t do that?”

“Don’t give him a choice. Tell him it’s gonna happen and there’s fuck all he can do t’ stop it. Say ye don’t want any trouble, just t’ lie low a
while. Don’t say how long ye plan t’ stay or what it’s in connection with. And don’t mention me.”

“Will I tell him how many to expect?”

“No.”

“Do
you
know how many?”

Gawl laughed. “I have a good idea.”
He moved on. “Visit Phials after that. Tell him ye’re working on a plan, so he doesn’t get desperate and do something stupid. I don’t know what night yet, probably Tuesday or Wednesday, don’t want t’ leave it till Thursday, that’d be cutting it too tight.”

“
And if he asks about the pluh-pluh-pluh-plan?”

“Say ye’re still working on it. Tell him ye’ll drop by t’ discuss it with him in advance, once ye have it clear inside yer head.” Gawl paused. “And ask him if he
has any thoughts for getting Fast Eddie out of the way. I’d rather not have t’ deal with him at the door.”

Clint slept little that
night, full of doubts and fears, worrying about the break-out, wondering what Gawl was planning, imagining all the things that could go wrong. Terrified, wanting to call the whole thing off, but the thought of twenty-five million dollars keeping him on track.

On Monday he turned up at the Church of
Sacred Martyrs at the normal time. Headed straight for the confessional, where Fr Sebastian was waiting for heroin. “Bless me Father, for I bring sin. Want to shoot up?”

“You’re late,
” Fr Sebastian snapped, sticking a hand over the top of the dividing wall, a gap of several inches between that and the ceiling.

“No I’m not,” Clint chuckled. “
The anticipation screws up your sense of time.”

Fr Sebastian grunted and tossed a wad of notes over to Clint. Clint tossed them back.
A cautious pause, then Fr Sebastian said, “What do you want?”

“Sanctuary.”

“Don’t fuck me about,” the priest snarled.

“I’m
suh-serious. I’m going to need a safe hiding place soon, me and a few others. I was huh-hoping you’d be charitable enough to put us up in your –”

The money came flying back over the top of the divide.
“No. I’ll pay the way I always have.”

Clint gently pushed the money back at the priest, standing on tip-toe
to reach over. “This isn’t a debate, Father. You do as I say or I stop dealing.”

“I’ll find another dealer. The streets are awash with scum.”

“You’ll hurt my fuh-feelings.” Clint pressed his face close against the mesh. “We’ll come at night, before the weekend. Be ruh-ready for us. Get in food and drink. Prepare beds. Make sure you’re alone.”

“I said I wouldn’t –”

“I know about your fuh-fondness for young girls.” The priest went quiet. “I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to make use of that knowledge. This is the tuh-time. Welcome me and my friends and I’ll forget about your other weakness.”

Silen
ce. Heavy breathing. Then, “How many of you?”

Clint smiled in the gloom. “Probably no more than six or seven. Maybe less.”

“How long for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who will you be hiding from?”

Clint rose without answering. “See you soon, Father. Keep a candle burning in the window.” Slipped out before the priest could curse. Took his regular position near the back of the church, did some deals, pleased with himself for the way he’d handled Parry
, growing in confidence, starting to believe in himself again, that he could pull this off, that the dream could become a reality. Then Kevin Tyne was beside him, face black with rage. “Don’t ever send that fucker our way again.”

Clint flinched, alarmed. “Kuh-
kuh-kuh-Kevin. Wh-wh-what do –”

“That bastard
hurt Tulip. He fucked her hard and slapped her around.”

“Guh-guh-guh-Gawl?”

“You’ve some fucking nerve, sending an animal like him to us after what happened with Phials.”

“I duh-duh-
don’t understand. I duh-didn’t know.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt Tulip
,” Kevin seethed. “I’m going to tell Big Sandy about the beast, send him round to fuck McCaskey up.”

“No,
” Clint gasped. Stuck his hands in his pockets, grabbed cash and a baggie, shoved them at Kevin. “Here. Take it ah-ah-ah-all. I’m suh-suh-sorry. I wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-wouldn’t have suh-sent him if I’d known.”

Kevin stared at the money
and drugs, thought about throwing them back in Clint’s face, then thought of all the treats he’d bought for Tulip recently. Pocketed the bribe, relaxing slightly. “You can’t buy me off that cheaply,” he huffed.

“I’m not tr
uh-trying to. It’s an apology.”

“I don’t want to see him again.”

Clint nodded. “I’ll tuh-tuh-tell him. But don’t tuh-tell Big Sandy. No nuh-nuh-nuh-need to involve outsiders.”

“We’ll see,” Kevin sneered.

Clint stuck out a hand in hope. Kevin ignored it and stormed up the aisle. Clint breathed a sigh of relief and got out quick. Wondering if Gawl’s brutality had been calculated or just his natural way with women, if he really planned to use the Tynes to break Phials out or if he was just getting off on their weird sex act. Decided not to pursue the line of thought. He had to trust his partner, couldn’t afford to have doubts. So he headed for the lab, walking fast, thinking of the day when he wouldn’t have to sit and take shit from the likes of Kevin Tyne.

Fast Eddie on the door as usual. Clint wondered where he lived and if he ever took time off, always here except for that time when he’d had to flee London, Clint not sure but reckoning it must have been linked to the disappearance of Larry Drake. Decided to ask as they were walking up the stairs. “Are you a prisoner here tuh- too?”

Fast Eddie glanced suspiciously at him. “Come again?”

“You always suh-seem to be on duty.”

“It’s my job,” Fast Eddie said coolly.

“But surely you get the odd duh-day off? Don’t you have a huh-home to go to?”

“Why are you asking?”

Clint shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Don’t worry about my
personal life,” Fast Eddie said. “It’s none of your business.”

“No need to buh-buh-buh-bite my huh-head off,” Clint complained.

“I don’t like people asking questions.”

Clint pulled a face. “Fuh-fuh-forget I asked. Touchy fuh-fuh-fuh-fucker.”

Phials greeted him off-handedly in his bedroom, suppressing his excitement. Waited for Fast Eddie to leave before pressing up close to Clint to whisper, “What’s the word?”

“We’re
wuh-working on it.”

“
We?
”

“I can’t do it alone.”

“Who’s your partner?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Can we trust him?”

“Yes.” Clint paused, a thought striking him, amazed he hadn’t considered it before. “
But it’ll muh-mean a three-way spluh-split.”

Phials waved
away the statement. “I’m not worried about shit like that. When does it happen?”

“I don’t know
, we’re still fuh-finalising the plan.” Thinking about the deal, calculating greedily. Until now he’d been planning to split twenty-five mill down the middle with Gawl. But if they divided the fifty three ways, he’d get close to seventeen million. If he could convince Phials to divide it up even further, and keep more for himself… “We muh-might have to involve a cuh-couple of others too, maybe split it fuh-five ways,” Clint said slyly.

“I don
’t care about the fucking money.” Phials’ eyes wild with the promise of release and fear of failure. “How will you do it?”

“I
cuh-can’t tell you yet.” Phials started to object. “Don’t worry, it’s all in huh-huh-hand. I’ll drop by again before it happens, tuh-tell you all about it then.”

Phials relaxed
. “Big Sandy was here yesterday, trying to freak me out. But I know their shit. I played mind games myself in the past. They won’t break me that easily.”

“My
puh-partner would like some suh-samples of Baby P,” Clint said, chancing his arm.

“No.”

“It would muh-make it easier for us if we –”

“No samples. No copy of the formula. Only me.” Phials tapped the side of his head. “With the
secret in here, I’m worth the world to you. With the formula or a sample to work from, you might get ideas.”

“You don’t trust me?” Clint tried to sound wounded.

“Not as far as I could throw you,” Phials laughed, then he stuck on a video and the pair settled back, pretending to watch it just in case Fast Eddie walked in and wondered what they were up to. Under the noise they talked about the drug, America, Phials’ contacts, how he’d sell the formula. “They’ll be queueing up for it,” he predicted. “And they’re sensible businessmen, they won’t try to screw us. Getting out – of here and England – is the hard part. If we handle that cleanly, it’s a downhill skate from there.”

Clint asked about Fast Eddie, if he ever left the lab or if there was some way to send him off on an errand. Phials said Fast Eddie was resident most of the time,
but maybe he could distract him, set off an alarm in the basement just before Clint and his partner hit the lab. That sounded like a good idea to Clint, but he told him to think about it some more and see if he could come up with a better one.

Phials clasped Clint’s hands tightly before he left, tears of gratitude in his eyes. “If we pull this off, we’re made for life,” he croaked.

“I know,” Clint smiled.

“You really think you can
get me out?”

“No sweat,” Clint boasted, pretending he was the mastermind behind the plan. “Just work hard, make it look like you’re desperatel
y trying to perfect the formula, leave the rest to us.” Opening the door, he called back to Phials so that Fast Eddie heard, “See you again in a duh-day or two, doc.”

“Goodbye
,” Phials responded, smiling crookedly. “Good luck.”

Down the stairs with Fast Eddie. Waiting at
the front for the door to open — it didn’t. He looked back. Fast Eddie standing by the wall, arms folded, staring at him. Clint started to sweat. Forced a faint smile. “Wh-wh-wh-what’s up?”

“Phials say anything to you about what he’s working on?”

Clint worked the flesh of his forehead into a frown. “No. Wh-wh-wh-why?”

“Nothing about Friday?”

“Fruh-fruh-fruh-
Friday
?”

Fast Eddie stared at him a couple of heartbeats longer. Shook his head. “No matter.”
He unfolded his arms and pressed a button in a panel in the wall. The door opened. Clint exited, half-waving. Fast Eddie didn’t wave back. Clint hurried away from the lab, still sweating bad.

Tulip had taken a long, hot bath and was on her way to her bedroom, drying her legs with a towel as she went. Kevin was waiting to get in the shower, and he could see the bruises and scratches where McCaskey had mauled her during their second appointment. Tulip hadn’t said much since their session with the brute the night before, less upset than Kevin thought she’d be.

“Do you blame me?” he asked quietly
, putting out a hand to stop her.

“For what?” Tulip sighed
as she automatically glanced at his penis to make sure he wasn’t aroused.

“McCaskey. What he did to you. I told him to stop but he ignored me. If Big Sandy had been
there, I’d have sicced him on the bastard, but I’d have only aggravated the situation if I’d interfered myself.”