He slid his hand into his jacket pocket, his fingers brushing against the flick knife. Beneath his left arm,
tucked snugly into a shoulder holster, was the Clock 17 automatic. The pliers were in his other pocket.
Leary chewed on a matchstick, his eyes ever alert for signs of movement.
When he finally saw the car he remained motionless.
Bang on eight
Ivor Best cruised slowly down the road, turned the vehicle at the far end then guided it back up towards the corner of the street opposite where Leary hid.
There was someone else in the car with him.
If you’re going to do this, you’re going to have to do it quickly.
The car was slowing down. Leary could see Best and his companion peering to the left and right, the second man gesticulating.
Leary leaned on the phone-box door and it opened slightly. The car was less than ten yards from him. He eased the Glock from the shoulder holster and took a step out on to the pavement.
Best brought the car to a stop and revved the engine once.
Leary ran across to the vehicle and tapped on the passenger-side window.
Jeffrey Kelly looked around at him.
Ivor Best smiled and nodded. ‘Get in the back,’ he called, motioning to the rear door.
Leary did as he was instructed.
‘Nice to see you again, Mr Best,’ said Leary smiling.
‘How the fuck do you know my name?’ Best began. Then he saw the gun.
Leary pressed it to the back of Kelly’s skull. ‘Just drive or I’ll blow his fucking head off,’ he hissed.
‘He’s bluffing,’ Best said, seeing the look of horror on his companion’s face.
‘Am I?’ Leary challenged, thumbing back the hammer of the 9mm.
‘Who are you?’ Best wanted to know.
‘Drive. I’ll introduce myself,’ Leary snapped.
So, who the fuck are you?’ Ivor Best glanced into the rear-view mirror and caught sight of Leary again. The young Irishman was still sitting with the Glock pressed to the base of Jeffrey Kelly’s skull.
‘RUC?’ Best murmured. ‘SAS?’
‘What the fuck would the SAS want with you, you Proddie bastard?’
‘What do you want?’ Kelly asked, trying to keep his voice even.
‘Information,’ Leary said.
‘About what?’
‘Why did you pick me up last night after I left that pub?’ Leary wanted to know.
Best regarded him in the mirror again but said nothing.
‘Why were you there again tonight? You knew I’d show up, didn’t you?’ Leary continued.
‘I was interested in what you had to say,’ Best replied.
‘About the UVF? Why?’
Another heavy silence filled the car.
‘Why were you so fucking interested in what I had to say about the UVF?’ Leary repeated.
Best watched the road ahead. There was a junction coming up. Perhaps if he turned the car sharply enough he could cause his new passenger to
overbalance.Then he could reach over and grab the gun.
Maybe.
‘How did you know my name?’ Best wanted to know.
‘Research,’ Leary grinned.
‘You’re not RUC, are you?’ Best said. ‘You wouldn’t have to use plain clothes.’
‘So if I’m not RUC and I’m not with the fucking SAS, you work it out.’
‘Fenian,’ said Best and it was more a statement than a question.
‘Maybe. Now I want to know what you know about the UVF.’
Another silence.
‘I’m going to count to five,’ Leary said, ‘then, I’m going to spread your friend’s brains all over that fucking windscreen. Understand? One …’
Kelly tried to turn his head slightly.
Two,’ Leary continued.
Best saw a set of traffic lights up ahead. They were on amber.
Three.’
Hit the brakes hard.
‘Four.’
‘All right,’ said Best irritably.
‘What do you know about the UVF?’ Leary said. ‘And I mean you.’
‘We know as much about them as the next man,’ said Kelly, swallowing hard. He could feel the barrel of the automatic against his flesh.
‘You know who they are, don’t you?’ snapped Leary. ‘Every Proddie in this city knows who belongs with them.’
‘Like every Catholic knows who’s in the fucking IRA,’ grunted Best.
‘You know them, don’t you?’ Leary insisted. ‘You know the men I’m looking for.’
‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,’ Best sneered dismissiveiy.
Leary fired once.The noise inside the car was incredible. For fleeting seconds, Best and Leary both felt as if someone had ignited a charge inside their ears. The sound filled the space.
The bullet exploded from the barrel of the Glock, tore its way through the base of Kelly’s skull then travelled upwards. It ripped through the soft tissue of his brain and erupted from his forehead just above his left eye, carrying a reeking flux of pulverised bone, blood and macerated tissue with it. Most of it spattered the windscreen, some splashed Best. The bullet left an exit wound large enough for a man to push his fist through.
What was left of Kelly’s head slumped back against the seat.
The air was filled with the stench of cordite, blood and excrement as his body voided itself.
Best almost lost control of the car but he gripped the wheel and guided the vehicle on, his hands now shaking. His ears were throbbing from the massive roar. His retinas seared by the muzzle flash that had filled the car like the flame from a welder’s torch.
‘Has that helped your memory?’ Leary rasped. ‘I want to know what you know about the UVF. Now.’
Best was breathing heavily. Sucking in the stench. It was like a mobile charnel house.
‘Have you ever been approached by the UVF?’ Leary continued.‘Do you know anyone in the UVF?’
Best nodded.
Then fucking tell me,’ Leary snarled, pressing the barrel of the Glock to the driver’s head. ‘And do it before you end up like your friend.’
You hear things,’ said Best, his voice cracking slightly. ‘You know how it is.’
Tell me.’
‘People mouthing off. Rumours. You never know if they’re true or not. Someone says they know someone who knows someone who’s in the movement.That kind of thing.’
‘Was he in the UVF?’ Leary asked, nodding towards the corpse.
The coppery odour of Kelly’s blood was growing stronger.
Best nodded.
‘What about you?’ Leary continued. ‘You are too, aren’t you?’
No answer.
‘You wouldn’t have followed me last night otherwise. You thought you had a new recruit on your hands, didn’t you? That was why you wanted to meet me again tonight. To see if what I said yesterday was bullshit.’ He smiled. ‘Well, now you know it is.’
Best continued driving, occasionally glancing at the glove compartment.
Wondering if there was any way he would be able to reach the .38 Smith and Wesson
