was Ann Winter.
Manny lifted the gun a fraction. ‘The key is by your left foot, Hardy. Kick it over.’
I did. He moved smoothly, the way he did in his coffee bar, and scooped them up.
‘Now, put the gun on the ground and slide it across. Softly, please.’ He was enjoying himself. I did that, too, and he put it in his pocket with the key. This meant that he had only one hand on the shotgun for an instant, but he had it tucked back safe and steady. He’d learned to do all this in some very good school.
‘Where’s Mary?’
I didn’t answer. Ann moved even closer to me, which was convenient for him if he was going to shoot. Down there the gun would make a lot of noise. I reckoned he’d fire if he had to, but not just because I wouldn’t tell him where Mary was. He came down the steps and backed us up with the shotgun until we were against the wall. Still watching us, he swung aside to open the inner cellar door. A wave of the gun did all the talking necessary. We went in and he locked the door.
I turned the fluorescent tube on again. Ann’s face was stark white and her lips were twitching.
‘I don’t understand this,’ she said shakily.
‘The other night,’ I said. ‘After the wake. What happened to you?’
‘Nothing. They didn’t touch me. Screw that, what’s happening here?’
I didn’t answer. I was trying to think whether I’d seen any indications in the records that more than one person was involved in running the house. I hadn’t, unless it was the capitals on the dead file; the rest of the writing was in a sloping longhand. But that didn’t mean anything. Then it came to me and I found the reasons to reproach myself that I’d been seeking. Some of the items in the flatette-socks, a belt, a sports coat-were clearly masculine. I’d been confused by my earlier mistake about Mahoud’s sex and had become careless. There was another thing-the dregs in the plastic cups had smelled like Manny’s homemade vino. I should have picked up on that.
Ann pulled at my arm. ‘Bugger you, Hardy. What is all this?’
‘Manny must have killed Bruce.’ I was talking mostly to myself. ‘And Leon. Jesus. Leon stumbled onto this place and told Bruce about it and Manny heard the tape. Then I mentioned it on tape.’ I looked at Ann. ‘I left a tape for you. Did Manny hear it?’
‘Yes. I played it. He said he’d give me a lift. He had the shotgun. I’m scared.’ She looked around the room, at the boiling tub and the lime. ‘What goes on here?’
I told her, keeping it as ungrisly as I could.
‘Who’s Mary?’ she asked.
‘Woman who runs this joint. Hard. I had to knock her about a bit.’
‘He said on the way over that he’d kill you if you’d hurt her.’
‘He’ll kill me, anyway. He has to.’
‘Oh, God.’ She wasn’t dumb. She could see it was one out, all out. She gripped my arm so hard that I could feel the bite of her fingers through the jacket and shirt.
‘Easy,’ I said. ‘He won’t do it here, not with the shotgun. That gives us a small chance.’
‘You’re crazy! What chance? He’s killed two men. God, this is a nightmare.’
‘Just be quiet and let me think.’ I prowled around the room, but it was comfortless. The door was solid, there were no windows and the ventilation grids were high up near the roof. It was a good cell and there was nothing to think about.
A noise outside made us both jump. I was worried about the whitewashed walls; maybe they were thick enough for Manny to risk using the pump gun just twice. The door swung in and Manny stood there with Mahoud just behind him. Her eyes were wild and there was a great, dark swelling on the side of her face.
‘You hurt her,’ Manny said. His face was inflamed, contorted and working, the multicultural features a reddened blur of rage.
‘Give it to me,’ he said to Mahoud. She hesitated, possibly recalling that I’d outstepped her pretty neatly before.
‘He is fast, Manfred. Be careful.’
‘I’ll kill him.’
‘Not here,’ she said. ‘It is too dangerous here!’
‘All right. Give me the belt and go and get the van.’
‘Listen, darling.’ Her voice was low and urgent. ‘They are going crazy up there. I haven’t done the rounds yet. They will all need the pills.’
‘I’ll do it while you’re getting the van.’
‘It wouldn’t start. It could take hours.’
‘I told you always to have it ready.’ The shotgun was steady; it was as if he was discussing his BHP shares. He had all the control he needed. ‘We’ve got hours. Everything is going to be just all right. Belt.’
She handed him the metal-loaded belt and went back up the steps. ‘Be careful,’ she said.
He jerked the gun at Ann. ‘Get in the corner. Turn your face to the wall.’ I watched her do it and then felt a searing pain as he lashed me across the face. I thought of going for the gun but he was moving the whole time and I couldn’t even see him. He got me again on the cheek. I stumbled and the leather came down on my neck. I went down. He was methodical about it; the belt went up and down and I got it across the shoulders and down from there. The ones that hit the ribs hurt most. When he’d finished he rolled me over with his foot. I saw then that he’d held my gun on me while he’d been whipping. He pointed the. 45 at my stomach.
‘Later, I’m going to shoot you with this.’ A few locks of hair had come loose, but he looked pretty neat otherwise.
‘How did Leon find out about this place?’ I said. I was hoping he’d make a mistake, but only hoping.
He swished the belt, just missing my face. ‘One of them got away for a little while and talked to him.’ He clamped his mouth shut and I gathered there’d be no more talking. I’d marked him down as powerful and dangerous, but I hadn’t thought he was vicious in the way that this operation was. I guessed Mahoud was the brains of it. That’d be something for the prosecution to probe, for the psychiatrists to analyse. But there wasn’t going to be any prosecution. I had to clarify one thing, though.
‘I didn’t think you were man enough to take Henneberry,’ I said. ‘I saw the knife upstairs. She did it, didn’t she?’
‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘I did it. I did it all. I’ll do it to you, too, if I have to.’ Then he kicked me in the knee which was bent at the time. The pain travelled through me and I shuddered and closed my eyes.
When I opened them, he was gone and Ann was sitting in the corner looking at her hands. She looked oddly vulnerable without her bag. Again, no mistakes from Manny.
‘He’s mad,’ she said. ‘He’s going to kill us.’
I grunted and crawled across the floor towards her. Blood was dripping into my eyes and the knee felt as if it was hot and melting away. I pulled myself up to lean back against the wall and put my hand up to my face. There was some sort of cut below the hairline but he hadn’t hit my eyes. I wiped some of the blood away and tried to straighten my knee. It wouldn’t straighten and the attempt made me gasp.
‘Broken?’ she said.
‘Feels like it. Christ, I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Ann.’
‘So am I, but I was in it anyway, I suppose. Hell, I wish I had a smoke, or a joint. That’d be better.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Stop saying that. I’d settle for a drink. God, I didn’t realise how dependent I’d got.’
I thought of the ton of drugs upstairs. Maybe they’d offer us some before they killed us. That’s the modern way, but I didn’t think it’d be Manny’s style.
She reached over to touch my arm and got a place that didn’t hurt. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘About drugs.’
‘I thought you were Mr Clean.’ She was talking fast, just staying in control, but talking is as good a way as any. ‘What happened to you after the wake? I was left there with Pearl, feeling like a fool.’ Her fingers went tight with fear.
‘I got kidnapped. Different business.’
‘Great. Twice in how long? Did you get beaten up then, too?’
‘Yeah.’
