through. He stared, open-mouthed.
‘Where did you get all this shit?’ he asked. He turned around to Duke for an answer, but Duke was staring into space. Donnie knelt down and started picking through the piles of toys, all unopened. Pristine action heroes behind clear plastic windows, tipper trucks, fighter planes, boxing gloves, a candy dispenser, a mechanic’s tool kit. Bright primary colours shining in the sun.
‘You had Space Invaders all along?’ blurted Donnie, pointing to another box. ‘Hey, look at this little guy,’ he said, picking up a pale yellow teddybear with a tag that said Benton. ‘How could you hide poor Benton here in a dark closet…’ he picked up a tall black figure, ‘…with Darth Vader. Unless he’s…’ he lowered his voice dramatically, ‘…his father.’ He laughed nervously. He looked over at Duke. He waited in the silence, then stood up and started packing the toys into an empty box beside him, holding each one in his hand a fraction longer than he had to.
‘Maybe…I mean, shouldn’t these be goin’ to some children’s home or somethin’?’
‘Are you fuckin’ blind? There’s an X on the side of that box. A big fuckin’ black X.’
Duke carried a pot of red paint into his bedroom. The walls were grey and streaked with beige. Wanda had never finished the wallpaper job she started when they moved in.
‘OK. What’s next?’ said Donnie, walking in behind him. He looked around the room, rubbing his bare belly with his hand. ‘The dresser?’
‘I’m thinkin’ of doin’ one wall red, one wall black,’ said Duke, pointing. ‘What do you reckon?’
‘That’s cool. Are we takin’ the dresser?’ he said, slapping the top of it.
‘Yup,’ said Duke.
They bent down and gripped each end, rocking it back to keep the drawers from sliding. Donnie slammed his shoulder into the door jamb on the way through.
‘Goddammit,’ he said. He dropped his end and reached around to feel the damage. ‘There’s a big flap of skin back here,’ he said.
‘I’ll get you some ointment in a minute,’ said Duke. ‘Now, take a hold of this and get movin’.’
‘In the pickup?’ said Donnie, backing down the front steps.
‘Yup,’ said Duke.
They heaved it up and walked back towards the house.
‘That’s it, except for the bed,’ said Donnie.
‘I’ll take care of that,’ said Duke.
‘Not on your own, you won’t.’
‘Go have a cigarette,’ said Duke, taking the steps two at a time.
Donnie shrugged, pulled a pack of Marlboro from his jeans and walked into a shaded corner of the yard. He could see Duke silhouetted in the window, struggling to keep the mattress upright.
‘I can come in, help you, when I finish this,’ he shouted.
‘I got it,’ said Duke, letting the mattress spring back onto the bed. He disappeared, then showed up minutes later with a saw.
‘Probably right,’ said Donnie when he walked back into the room. He looked around at the chunks of wood and mattress. ‘I don’t think the whole thing would have fitted through the door.’
Duke threw down the saw.
‘Ointment,’ said Donnie.
‘Oh yeah. In the bathroom.’
Duke opened the cabinet and pulled out a flattened tube curled up almost to the top. He squeezed some ointment onto his finger tip and turned Donnie by the shoulders towards the light. Donnie caught sight of himself in a mirror on the door and sucked in his gut.
‘Have you done it yet?’ he asked, trying to crane his neck around.
‘I’m doin’ it right now,’ said Duke, smoothing the ointment in gentle strokes across the broken skin. He picked the tube up again and squeezed out more. Donnie shifted slightly on his feet.
Duke stepped back. His hand hovered, trembling, over the base of Donnie’s spine.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Joe stepped out of the shower, focused, reeling from the fright he had given himself with the pills, shocked by the control he had felt slowly slip away from him. He wrapped a towel around his waist and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked tired, but his eyes were clear. He was shaken by his recklessness – leaving the house, leaving Shaun alone, driving with his head spinning. He barely remembered getting to Waterford. He went into the bedroom and grabbed a lime green LV8 from the dresser. He used it to knock back four hits of Fuel It. Then his mobile rang. Anna’s number flashed across the screen. His knees buckled.
‘Thank—’
‘Rise and shine.’
Joe went rigid at the sound of the Texan drawl.
‘Hello?’ said Duke. ‘Hello?’
‘Do you have Anna…my wife?’
‘I know who she is. And what do you think?’
Joe’s heart thumped. Shards of pain exploded inside him.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please don’t hurt my wife.’
Duke laughed. ‘Only if you promise not to shoot my partner dead.’
Joe hesitated.
‘Let’s talk about that some other time,’ said Duke.
Joe jumped in. ‘You need to know…’ He thought of those two words from the Gray file and the battle began – should he tell Duke Rawlins what he knew or was it better to hold back? ‘…uh, that my wife…’
‘What?’ snapped Duke. ‘Is a diabetic? Needs sugar, doesn’t need sugar? Needs medication or she’ll die? You know, like the movies?’
‘No,’ said Joe slowly. ‘This is a very real situation. I know that. This is important for both of us. We both need something here and what I need is Anna, my wife, home safe.’ A slight tremor shook his voice. ‘What do
He heard a rattle as Duke put the phone down and started to clap. After several seconds, he picked it back up.
‘You know your shit. Mr Rawlins – I like that. But I wouldn’t have taken your wife if I was just gonna bring her right back. Where’s the sense in that?’
‘Is Anna OK?’ said Joe. ‘Have you hurt her in any way? Let me talk to my wife. Please.’
‘She said to say hi,’ said Duke. ‘Except no, she didn’t.’
‘Please tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,’ said Joe. ‘I can promise you that.’
‘What I need? That’s my business. What
‘I don’t understand,’ said Joe.
‘When it’s all over, it won’t matter a good goddamn what you understand or don’t understand, detective. It’ll be over. A dead end. It doesn’t matter how the hell you find yourself there when it’s the end of the road.’
‘Let me talk to my wife.’
‘No.’
‘Can I see her?’
Duke snorted. ‘Come to the parkin’ lot at that big high cliff by the harbour in five minutes. What are those things again? Oh yeah, lemmin’s.’
The phone, slick with sweat, slid through Joe’s palm and clattered onto the floor.
Frank Deegan was halfway down the path when Nora shouted after him.
‘What I was trying to tell you the other night…I may have done something stupid.’ She walked out to him. ‘I
