Scarlet Women

come.

She had something Redmond Delaney wanted, and that thing was Mira. She had no intention of handing her over. He wasn’t going to be hanging the flags out about this; in fact he was going to be seriously pissed off with her.

Charlie smiled coldly, his eyes running over her. ‘She’s ours, Mrs Carter, and you are out of your depth here. Let’s make this nice and easy. You put the gun down and stand aside, we take the girl, no harm done, no comebacks. How does that sound?’

‘Like a bad idea,’ said Annie. She was sweating with nerves. She could feel her hand growing slick with it on the burred walnut stock of the gun. ‘I’ve got a better one.’

‘Yeah?’ His eyes were watchful.

‘Yeah. Here it is. You turn around and go back out the door, and I don’t shoot your balls off. How’s that?’

Charlie’s gaze didn’t waver but his ever-present smile dimmed a bit.

‘Like I said, we don’t want no trouble,’ he reiterated, taking a step forward. ‘Just hand the gun over—’

Annie fired. The shot deafened them all. The bullet struck the ceiling above Charlie’s head. A chorus of screams went up from the kitchen below, but not a peep out of Mira, locked inside the bedroom, tied to the bed, helpless. Good girl, thought Annie. Plaster plumed out in a thick cloud, dusting down over Charlie like snowfall. He staggered back a step, blinking, choking, and was steadied by Ross.

Annie stepped forward.

‘I told you, Charlie. Back off. Just keep going. Because I’m telling you, the next one’s going to blow your bollocks into mincemeat. You’re a young man with lots of productive years in front of you, do you really want that to happen?’

Charlie started to back down the stairs. Ross backed up too. Someone was pounding at the front door. Tony, thought Annie. He’d heard the shot.

Charlie held his hands up. The dust in his hair was white; he looked like he’d aged twenty years in the last few seconds. He wasn’t smiling any more.

‘Hey—okay. I’m going, see? I’m going.’

‘Yeah. Keep going, that’s the way,’ said Annie, moving forward, following him down the stairs as he backed up.

‘You ain’t heard the last of this,’ said Charlie when he was at the front door. Ross opened it, glaring back at her.

Tony was there, ready to break heads.

‘Keep out the way, Tone,’ said Annie, and Tony saw the gun, saw the situation, and moved swiftly to one side. To Charlie, she said: ‘Keep going. You too, Ross.’

Annie was aware of Dolly and the two girls watching her from the open kitchen doorway.

‘What the hell?’ demanded Dolly, her eyes opening wide in horror as she stared at the gun in Annie’s hand.

Nobody answered her.

Charlie backed up out to the front gate, Ross following behind him. Tony fell in behind Annie, who was out on the front step now and still pointing the gun at Charlie’s undercarriage. In bright daylight, Charlie looked pale as milk.

‘You’re bang out of order, you,’ said Ross angrily to Annie.

‘I’m doing what I have to do,’ said Annie. ‘Go on now. Piss off, Charlie.’

With one last poisonous glare at her, Charlie went.

Ross stared at Annie and shook his head. ‘You’re fucking crazy.’

‘You too. Go,’ said Annie.

Ross went. When they were both out of sight, Annie handed the gun to Tony, who slipped on the safety and pocketed it. They went quickly back indoors, shut the door behind them. Tony threw the bolts over.

Dolly was staring at them both, aghast.

‘What the fuck have you done?’ she shouted at Annie.

Annie went to the phone. ‘Don’t worry, Doll, I’m going to make sure the Delaneys know you had no part in this.’

‘Are you crazy?’ asked Dolly, barging along the hall and glaring angrily at her. ‘Of course they’ll think I had a part in this. I run this place, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Annie snatched up the phone. Then she paused and looked at Dolly.

‘Doll—they were going to take Mira.’

‘Why the hell would they want to do that? What possible interest could a wreck like that be to the Delaney boys?’

‘They came to get her. Ross heard me say her name and they came for her. Redmond wants her, I don’t know why. I couldn’t let them take her, Doll, even you must see that.’

‘All I see is that you’ve landed me in the crap right up to my neck, that’s all. I told you she was trouble. How am I supposed to explain this away to Redmond Delaney?’ Dolly’s eyes were crazy with exasperation and growing fear. ‘I don’t question what he does or don’t do. That ain’t my place.’

‘Yeah,’ said Annie. ‘You’ve made that clear enough.’

‘And you didn’t fucking well listen to me!’

‘You mean you’d have let them take her? I don’t believe you.’

‘Don’t be a silly cow, Annie. If the Delaneys want to snatch a junkie—even one who’s a friend, or one who has been in the past, anyway, and let’s face it, she was your friend, not mine—then I don’t question it. What, do I look suicidal? And what am I supposed to do about Ross? You can’t just order him out of here, he’s my bloody doorman, he’s a Delaney boy…what the fuck are you up to now?’

Annie was dialling a number.

It was ringing.

She was praying he was there. Oh shit—what if he wasn’t?

Constantine picked up. ‘Yeah?’

Thank you, God.

Annie gulped down a breath and pushed the words out. ‘I need you. Right now.’

‘What’s happening?’ His voice was suddenly sharper.

‘And a safe house, you got a safe house for somebody? And a doctor?’

‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Where are you?’

Annie told him.

‘Don’t move.’ He put the phone down.

Annie glanced at Dolly, who looked mad enough to spit blood. At the two girls, cowering in the doorway. At Tony, whose expression said nothing. He just folded his arms and prepared to wait for backup to arrive.

Half an hour later, someone rapped at the front door. Dolly and the girls were sitting around the kitchen table. Annie was still standing in the hall, so was Tony. All was quiet. Even Mira had given up kicking off.

‘Jesus, what now?’ muttered Dolly.

Tony approached the door. ‘Who is it?’

‘The cavalry, who the fuck else?’ said an impatient American voice from outside.

Tony drew out the gun, slipped off the safety, opened the door a crack. A youngish dark-haired man was standing there wearing a black biker jacket. He had a heavy nose and cleft chin and looked as if he had Mediterranean blood running through his veins. He was holding an automatic pistol. He looked at Tony standing there with the revolver, and gave a grin.

‘Hey, pal, that’s a proper museum piece you got there. You’re Tony, right? Mrs Carter’s driver?’

Tony nodded.

‘Hey, how ya doin’?’ The man stepped forward and patted Tony briskly on the shoulder. ‘Mr Barolli’s compliments.’