4
‘Whadya call that, fuckhead? I could cue a better shot with my dick.’
‘I didn’t see you do so well with that last yellow.’
‘That’s ’cause there were two other fuckin’ balls in the way, Stevie Wonder. This one, you had a clear shot.’
Nel-M had arranged to meet Raoul Ferrer in a bar in Algiers.
Ten years ago it was a no-go area day or night, but now, with a string of new bars and restaurants nestling in the shadows of the dockside warehouses, according to local city guides it was now inadvisable to walk around only
They’d been perched up at the bar only a few minutes when the argument erupted at the pool table a couple of yards to their side. As the insults picked up steam and the two opponents moved closer, one of them raising his cue stick threateningly, Nel-M shifted from his bar stool.
‘Let’s get outta here.’
‘No, no. Wait a minute,’ Raoul said. ‘This is just gettin’ interesting.’
One thing Nel-M hadn’t considered, looking at the warped leer on Raoul’s face. The excitement of the fight.
‘Look, I haven’t come here to watch a bunch of goons fight. We got business to discuss.’ Nel-M turned and took a pace away.
Raoul got up and lightly tugged at his arm. ‘Come on, man. Won’t take a minute to kick-off, by the looks of it.’
Nel-M noticed the man with the raised cue stick, a biker with wild red hair, flinch and fleetingly gaze their way. He hoped Raoul hadn’t read anything into it.
‘You wanna watch that wise mouth.’ Red-hair waved the cue stick more threateningly at his opponent. ‘Otherwise one day someone will bust it wide open.’
‘Yeah. Yeah.’ His opponent stepped forward, taunting, challenging. ‘Will probably be the best fuckin’ shot you’ve had all night, too.’
They were running out of script. One more minute and Raoul would guess that something was wrong, that it was all staged.
‘I’m outta here,’ Nel-M said. ‘You want to waste time watching these assholes, then do it on your own time, not mine.’ He paced purposefully away, and by the time his hand reached for the door, Raoul had shuffled up quickly behind him. ‘The sort of business we need to talk about can’t be done here.’
‘Okay, man. Okay. I understand. Business.
Nel-M waited until they were a good dozen paces from the bar before he spoke again. He took a deep breath of the warm night air and slowly let it out.
‘You probably guessed why the meeting at this particular time. Larry Durrant’s coming up for his big day, and Roche wants to know if there might be any more surprises waiting in the wings. You know, as in another big pay- off.’
‘No, man. No. Of course not. That was a one-off deal, never to be repeated…’
‘Except that there were
Raoul shrugged awkwardly. ‘The second was only ten-G — just a top-up on the main deal. And only, ya know,’ Raoul grimaced, ‘cause I was in such a jam at the time. I’m okay now. Doin’ fine. No troubles, no problems. I got a good deal runnin’ now with Carmen, ya know.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Carmen Malastra, Louisiana’s leading racketeer. But at Raoul’s pecking level in Malastra’s empire, one call from Roche would easily smooth over any move they had to make against Raoul. Although that might all change once Raoul was a ‘made’ man. ‘But what we wanna make sure is if that’s
‘No, no. It won’ happen. Don’t worry.’
But there was a heavy pause before Raoul answered that told Nel-M that Raoul was far from sure.
‘Maybe not now, this year, or next. But who knows what can happen in five or ten years.’ Nel-M shrugged again. ‘And if that was going to be the case… or even if there was a slim possibility that it
Nel-M watched Raoul look thoughtfully, agitatedly at his shoes for a second — snakeskin with a maroon leather band — pursing his lips as he mulled it over. It looked like he was going to need a bit more push.
‘Roche has even thought of a figure for you. Forty grand. No arguments, no questions. But also, no come- backs or demands later. It’s a one-shot deal.’
Raoul looked up and blew a soft whistle into the night air. ‘Same as the first time, huh?’
‘Yeah. Same as.’ Nel-M held Raoul’s gaze for an instant; snake-eyes, snake-shoes. He could tell that Raoul was close, teetering on the edge. Behind them a ship’s horn sounded as it approached Algiers Point.
Raoul looked over his shoulder as a sudden babble of voices burst from a bar eighty yards up the road.
They were away from the main bar and restaurant area, but obviously still not far enough, thought Nel-M. And there was still a thread of uncertainty holding Raoul back.
‘I’ve got the money right over there, in my car. Should you decide to take it.’ Nel-M started pacing towards his car without looking back for Raoul’s reaction.
After five yards they came alongside a large warehouse, and, as they turned the corner to follow the flank of the building, the atmosphere changed completely. It was darker, the street-lighting sparser, the bars and restaurants a hundred yards away hidden from view by the two-storey corrugated warehouse walls. At the end of the warehouse and before the next was a small patch of waste-ground used as a makeshift car-park for twenty or so cars. At this time of night only three cars were there, one of which was Nel-M’s.
Nel-M knew that if he’d arranged to meet Raoul here initially, Raoul would have balked, or at least would have been suspicious and wary. That’s why he’d decided on the bar and the staged fight.
‘And you got the money right here, in your car?’
‘Yep.’ Nel-M could tell from the edge in Raoul’s voice that he’d taken the bait. The smell and immediacy of the money was just too tempting. ‘No point in delaying. One quick call to Roche for a final nod, and the money’s yours. Done deal. So, what do you think?’
One final appraisal of his shoes, lips pursing, before Raoul looked up again. ‘Okay,
Equally, Nel-M kept his voice low as he took out his cell-phone and started speaking to Roche, holding one hand up towards Raoul as he took a couple of steps away.
‘So, you were right,’ Roche said on the back of a tired sigh. ‘He
‘Yeah, yeah. Looks like it.’
‘Another forty grand, you say?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And do you think he’ll come back for more again later?’
‘Yeah, looks like it. At least, that’s how
Another tired sigh. ‘I suppose we’re going to have to take the option you suggested, against my better judgement. Less possible problems later. Except, that is, for how we’re going to square things with Malastra.’
‘That too will be better dealt with now rather than later.’
‘You mean once he becomes “made”?’
‘Yeah.’
‘