All the time I kept the bag close to him, so he wouldn’t be in any doubt. He glanced at it a couple of times while we were in the lift, and I thought I saw him swallow, but he stayed docile. He was lucky that he did.
The energy and the anger inside me was winding tighter and burning brighter with every step. My pulse had started to thunder, beating a harsh tattoo at my temple.
I didn’t have a qualm that I’d lied to Walt and that I was about to disappoint all Superintendent MacMillan’s hopes for me. I’d known it for a while now that I had the ability to take a life. I’d justified it to myself by saying it was only under the most extreme of circumstances. Only when it was a case of them or me.
Well, not this time.
It was almost a relief not to have to hide behind the pretence of civilisation any more.
The lift doors opened and I pushed Randy out ahead of me. In front were more offices, larger this time, their doors more widely spaced. Expensive-looking potted plants livened up the spacious corridor.
At the end was a door with an engraved stainless steel plaque on it which read, ‘Livingston Brown III – President and CEO’. I turned the handle and pushed open the door without knocking.
The man inside was indeed on the phone as the switchboard had claimed. He was sitting behind a huge limed oak desk, leaning back in his executive chair so he could admire the subtly tinted view of his empire out of the floor-to-ceiling picture window that made up one entire wall.
As we came in he sat up abruptly, his expression first one of irritation, then surprise, as he took in his terrified minion. And me.
Sitting in a chair on the side of the desk closest to me was a tiny blonde woman, dressed today in a lavender power suit and lethal-looking white slingbacks. When she caught sight of me the recognition was instant, despite my disguise. Her mouth rounded into a silent O.
Our eyes locked. My target’s and mine. The object of this journey of execution.
“I’m sorry, sir, she made me do it!” Randy gabbled, taking advantage of my distraction to duck out of my grasp and bolt for the door. I didn’t bother to stop him going. He’d served his purpose.
“Hello Gerri,” I said, bringing the gun up straight and level so I had a sight picture that put her scarlet-painted upper lip dead centre stage. “Remember me?”
Twenty
Livingston Brown III was the first one to move. The old boy had some nerve, I’ll give him that. Without taking his eyes off me he said into the receiver, “Something’s come up. I’ll call you back,” and put the phone down slowly and carefully. Then he straightened up and sat forwards, linking his long bony fingers together on the desk top. He kept his movements deliberate so as not to alarm me.
I wasn’t alarmed but I couldn’t say the same for Gerri Raybourn. She tried to scramble further back in her chair, the effort knocking loose one of those white shoes. It dropped to the floor and lay on its side next to a lavender handbag that was a perfect match to the suit.
“Charlie! What are you doing?” she said, her voice harsh with fright. “Have you lost your mind?”
Brown frowned at her, as though he considered making such an accusation to someone with their finger on the trigger was not a sensible move. He wasn’t to know it wasn’t going to make any difference.
I was planning on shooting her anyway.
“You must have known I’d come for you,” I said and the rusty voice that came out of my mouth didn’t seem to belong to me. It didn’t even seem to be in the same room. “As soon as you had your men kill Sean, you must have known I’d come.”
“Kill Sean? What the hell are you talking about?” Gerri demanded blankly, still doing her best to look like she hadn’t the first idea what was going on here. “Meyer’s with you.”
“If Sean was with me, I wouldn’t be here,” I said with a softness that did little to reassure her. The buzzing inside my head had reached a roar now, enormous and unstoppable like a flight of rapids after the rains. I moved closer, still keeping the SIG out in front of me. The end of the barrel never wavered.
“What was it you said to me back at the motel? That I was just going to have to let him go?” I laughed, a travesty of the sound. “Well you were right about that, weren’t you, Gerri? They pulled what was left of him out of a swamp yesterday.” The ravening alligators I couldn’t reproduce, but I could certainly make sure I shot her somewhere so that she’d die slowly and painfully. I motioned with the SIG. “Stand up.”
Gerri clutched at the arms of her chair with those jewel-encrusted taloned claws like I couldn’t kill her if I couldn’t get her to her feet.
“For God’s sake,” she said, pale and very shaken now. “You have to listen to me! I didn’t kill Sean.” Her eyes skittered sideways imploringly to Brown, who was still sitting motionless behind the desk, looking shocked and grey as he listened to the exchange.
“Of course you didn’t,” I said, almost soothing. “You wouldn’t sully your own hands with something like that. You got Whitmarsh to do it for you. Or Haines.”
She reacted at the mention of the names of her accomplices. She couldn’t help herself. “Haines?” she said and she’d started to sweat now. I could see beads of it pearling along her hairline. “What the hell’s he got to do with this?”
“You know,” I said. With a bitter irony I added, “He should have killed me at the theme park, when he had his chance.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she said, louder like that was going to convince me. She glanced at Brown again. “She’s delusional. On something.”
I didn’t respond to that. I just stared at her coldly, watching as her bewilderment turned to anger, stoked by fear into iridescence. Her temper finally snapped.
“What the hell is it you want?” she shouted.
Even if I’d had an answer to that, I didn’t get the chance to utter it. At that moment the door was rammed open hard enough to embed the handle into the plasterboard wall alongside it.
I started to turn as soon as I caught the first sound but it was travelling slower than they were and I was already too late.
Two bulky figures came through the doorway in quick succession, moving hard. One bounced into a crouch, sweeping the room for additional threats with a big silvered Colt semiautomatic clasped in both hands, up and ready.
At the same time the other man simply kept running and hit me with all the ease of a truck taking down a deer that’s foolish enough to stand in the middle of the road. I was smacked straight off my feet and bowled over, crashing on top of the chair opposite Gerri’s and through the glass-topped occasional table alongside. The table, and the lamp that was sitting on it, both shattered as they hit the floor.
My bag went flying and I lost my grip on the SIG but didn’t see where either of them landed. The man was brutal and proficient in his efforts to subdue me without a prolonged fight, and surprise as well as weight was on his side. I never stood a chance.
It was over sooner than he was happy with and I caught a couple of unnecessary extra blows to compensate for his disappointment in that respect. It took a moment after he’d quit hitting me for my head to stop swimming.
When it did I found both the two men who’d burst into the room were standing over me. The one who’d knocked me down had picked up the SIG and was handling it with approval. The other had his own gun firmly trained on me.
They were big men with thick necks and biceps that strained the elasticity of their company polo shirt sleeves. The one with the Colt had rich dark skin and slightly flattened down features – part genetic, part boxer. The other was blond and had a pencil moustache nesting on his upper lip. They looked like thugs who’d scrubbed up well and weren’t entirely comfortable with smart casual attire. I didn’t recognise either of them.
I heard a chair go back and looked sideways to see Brown’s feet appear from round the other side of the desk. He was wearing suit trousers with turn-ups and shiny black shoes, and he walked like his feet hurt in them. He stopped a short distance away and looked at the two men.
“You boys took your goddamn time,” he growled.
“Sorry sir,” one of them rapped smartly, although sounding unrepentant. They’d arrived soon enough, his
