Through the kitchen, down the hall, and into a huge bathroom, all done up in black slate and glistening chrome. They heave him into a big enamel tub, then crank open the taps. Water sputters in, cold at first, then steaming hot. Richard scrabbles back, his pink toes going bright red, the skin throbbing and groaning.
‘Fuckin’ hell.’ Neil grabs the big mixer-showerhead above the shiny taps and thumps his hand down on the chrome button. ‘Don’t be such a bloody poof.’
The showerhead judders, and hot water spurts out. He curls his top lip and holds it over Richard. ‘Stop wriggling! Your own fault for being a filthy little shit, isn’t it?’
Needles, broken glass jammed into his cracking skin…
And slowly the feeling fades, the warm water leaching its heat into his bones. It’s just starting to feel good when Neil twists the taps again, shutting it off. Leaving Richard shivering in the bottom of the tub.
Tony, the quiet one, settles on the toilet lid and stares at Richard’s pink, naked body. ‘We had a deal, Knox.’
Richard doesn’t say anything.
‘We had a deal and you fucked us over.’
‘I didn’t…I wasn’t—’
Neil slaps him, hard across the face. ‘Where’s the money?’
Richard’s mouth tastes of blood, sweet against the bitter tang of vomit. ‘I don’t…I don’t have it. It—’
Another slap.
‘Bad time to get a sense of humour, Knoxy, WHERE’S THE FUCKING MONEY?’
Richard wraps his arms over his head. ‘I don’t have it! Mr Maitland made me split it between his kids before he died…’
This time it’s a punch, right in the stomach. ‘Where’s the money?’
He curls up in the bath, sobbing. ‘I don’t have it, I don’t have it…’
One in the kidneys. ‘Where’s the money?’
‘AAAAGH…
Then the door opens. ‘Hey, Sweethearts, how’s it going?’
Tony sighs. ‘Says he hasn’t got the cash any more. Mental Mikey willed it to his kids.’
‘That’s a bit of a pain.’ She squats by the side of the bath and looks into Richard’s tear-filled eyes. ‘I’m disappointed in you, Babe. We bought you all that lovely Rohypnol and you used it a day early to disappear on us. You promised to give us Danby – you didn’t. And now you don’t even have the money…You’re no use to me, Darling.’
She stands.
Neil: ‘What you want us to do with him?’
Not the gun again.
Tony: ‘Sell him.’
They all turn to look at the man sitting on the toilet. ‘Sorry, Sweetheart?’
‘Sell him. They’re all scrabbling to claim Mental Mikey’s empire back home, aren’t they? Cunningham, Dawson, that violent prick Smithy…Bet any of them would pay good money to get their hands on Knox. ‘Specially if we don’t tell them he’s not got Mikey’s cash any more.’
Oh God, no…Smithy’ll kill him. And not quickly, Richard knows, because he’s seen it.
Julie smiles. ‘Excellent idea. Might even give us a bit of leverage down south. Can’t do it direct though – too risky – but we could go through an intermediary. Someone local.’
‘What about that little weasel you’ve been getting info off?’
‘Who, Polmont?’ She shakes her head. ‘Silly bugger went and got himself killed, didn’t he, Babe? But I might know a man…’
She pulls out her phone and steps out of the bathroom, leaving him alone with Neil and Tony again.
Richard scrubs his hands across his damp, swollen face. ‘Please, you can’t—’
‘Wouldn’t fuckin’ like to be you.’ Neil throws a towel into the bath. ‘Dry yerself.’
‘I can get more money. I can—’
The slap sends him crashing against the black-and-silver tiles. ‘I said, dry yerself!’
Richard keeps his mouth shut and does what he’s told.
Tony sits there on the bog, watching him. ‘Not the luckiest, are you? No cash, no mates, no one to protect you…Know how long Danby held out, before he told us where you were? Five minutes.’
Neil curls his top lip. ‘Didn’t even have to show him the pliers, like.’
‘Can’t believe you thought he’d get you out of the country. How thick are you?’
Julie comes back in, snapping her phone shut. ‘All sorted. Shall we…?’
They drag him, limping, back through to the kitchen.
