And I sighed once again. But took unto myself a solemn vow that it would be the very last time I sighed today. I mean, it’s all so depressing, sighing, isn’t it? And although I did have good, sound reasons for being very depressed, there were also now reasons to be optimistic. If Fangio financed my expedition to find Begrem. And I did find Begrem. And in Begrem there was some secret something that would enable me to defeat and destroy the Homunculus. Then that would be a result, wouldn’t it?
Yes, it would, I told myself. It would. It would. It would.
‘What I am going to do,’ I said to Fangio, ‘is let you finance me to form a one-man expedition to find the Lost City of Begrem. That is what is going to happen. What do you think of that?’
Fangio did shakings of his head.
‘You are shaking your head,’ I informed him.
‘Because I’m bored with Begrem,’ said Fangio. ‘I don’t think anyone’s ever going to find it, so I’m not financing that expedition any more. Would you care for two two-weeker tickets to Butlins?’
And, well, yes, I did hit him this time. But not that hard. It would have been harder, it would have been much harder, had I been able to muster up the strength. So he got off quite lightly, did Fangio.
‘Most unsporting,’ said he.
‘Begrem,’ I said. ‘You will finance my expedition to Begrem. Right now and right out of the cash register.’
‘Well, I suppose I do have the money in the cash register that I put aside to finance the expedition. There’s fifty big ones in that register.’
‘Fifty thousand dollars?’
‘It’s been a slow week.’
And I almost sighed again, but didn’t.
Instead I said, ‘Give me the money.’
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer Butlins?’
‘Begrem!’ I said. ‘Now!’ I said also.
‘And you will send me postcards?’
‘Every single day, I promise.’
‘Splendid,’ said Fangio. ‘And you’ll probably need this. I have been keeping it for you.’ And he brought up, from beneath the counter, my trusty Smith & Wesson. ‘Had it serviced for you and everything,’ he said. ‘Just in case you did make it back from the hospital.’
‘You are a saint,’ I told Fange. And I smiled. And I pointed the trusty S & W at him and said, ‘Give me the contents of your cash register. ’
And Fangio humorously raised his hands. And said, ‘Don’t shoot, Mr Burglar.’
Which is where, perhaps, things went so seriously wrong. When it looked as if they were just about to go so right.
I think it was the New York cop getting up to purchase another drink. And seeing me with the gun, demanding money, and Fangio with his hands raised and everything.
And the fact that the cop then shouted, ‘It’s that psycho-terrorist guy. Shoot to kill!’ As he and his chum drew their guns.
56
You have to be sprightly when bullets start to fly.
You have to know how to take cover.
You notice that I say you have to know, rather than you have to learn. The thing is, if you don’t instinctively know, then you will get shot and you won’t have an opportunity to learn.
I leaped over the bar post-haste, over that bar counter and straight down to the other side, taking my treasure map with me. To join Fangio, I might add, who was evidently skilled in knowing how to take cover, for he was already on his hands and knees in the foetal position.
The cops opened fire and shot up all the liquor bottles on the glass shelves behind Fangio’s bar counter. Why? Well, they had their guns drawn and they were clearly prepared to use them. On anything.
A friend of mine from my teenage years, who was once in the TA, told me that the only soldiers who are really any good to the army are the psychopathic ones. They’ve joined the army to shoot guns at people. Most people who join the army never really think about the shooting people side of it, and when they find themselves in a combat situation they will spend a lot of time instinctively taking cover. Whereas that one solider in every hundred who is psychotic will be blasting away at the enemy and chalking up kills. My friend who was once in the TA also told me that war consists of two things: boredom and fear. Waiting and waiting for something to happen and then being terrified when it does.
This friend, who was neither psychotic nor a fan of being afraid, left the TA as quickly as he was able and took work with the council in Cardiff. And I was caused to think of him when I took the dive for cover because I didn’t really want to shoot a policeman, but neither did I want to have one shoot me.
‘There is a back door,’ shouted Fangio, close by my ear. ‘Perhaps if you left by it, those cops might stop shooting my bar to pieces.’
And further shots crackled overhead. And bottles of Bud now went to ruination. ‘Please take all the money with you,’ said Fangio.
‘I was intending to, yes.’
‘Oh good. Because then I can claim it back from my robbery-cover insurance.’
‘Financially speaking, you have acquired certain wisdom over the years,’ I told him as I crawled in the direction of the cash register.
The clientele had taken to fleeing and above and between the bursts of gunfire I could hear one of the cops calling for backup. The words ‘bring everything you have’ stick in my memory. And also ‘the SWAT Team psychos’.
I made a leap for the cash register and I brought it down to the floor and I emptied it. And I filled my pockets with these emptyings. Especially the inside pockets of my trench coat, as they were big ‘poacher’s pockets’ with plenty of room for loot. Not that this was loot. It wasn’t. It was my money, for God’s sake!
And I was not leaving this bar without my money.
‘How would you feel about me using you as a human shield while I back out of the rear door?’ I asked Fangio.
And there was a moment of silence. And the dark sun went once more behind a cloud. And another dog howled in the distance.
‘I’m glad those howling dogs never come any closer,’ shouted Fangio to me as the police gunfire resumed, ‘because I’m sure they must be very big and fierce. But in answer to your question, I’m not particularly keen.’
‘I could force you,’ I shouted into his earhole. ‘I do have a gun.’ And I flourished this at Fange.
‘It doesn’t have any bullets in it, though.’
‘What?’
‘I forgot to put them in.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘But if I hold it to your head, how are you going to know that?’
‘Good point.’
But I decided against it. I didn’t want Fangio to get hurt. When it came right down to it, he was probably the only friend I had, and I didn’t want to be responsible for something horrible happening to him.
Because, let’s face it, there was a rare, outside chance that I might best the Homunculus and return one day to this bar to claim my share of all the money Fangio had managed to snaffle away.
All right, it was a rare and outside chance, but I had to stay positive. Even if, as now, I was being shot at.
‘Farewell, Fangio,’ I said. ‘I hope we will meet again in more favourable circumstances. You have been a good friend to me. Give us a shake of the hand.’
Fangio stuck out his hand for a shake. ‘I’m just thinking,’ said he, ‘that if I were to disarm you and make a citizen’s arrest, I would be considered a bit of a hero. And I’d get the reward. I don’t suppose you’d let me bop you on the head?’
