He crumpled.
A big black guy rushed past me and I heard a dull thud followed by two double-taps. The rope released suddenly and I fell forward. My face bounced off Standish’s. Blood and grey stuff oozed from the side of his head.
‘It’s OK, Nick.’ The way he growled it in that fucking Glaswegian accent of his, it still sounded like a death threat.
I pushed him away. ‘No! No!’ I spat the words into Standish’s face as I pulled the cord from my neck and got it round his.
I started pulling.
Standish’s eyes were open and vacant. His face was swollen.
I thought of Bateman, and I thought of all the kids lined up on the airstrip with a smile on their faces, and all the kids we’d killed back at the mine, and what had been left of the kid’s face I blew off at the river.
Sam’s hands pulled at my shoulders. ‘It’s all right, it’s over. He can’t be any more dead than he is.’
He started to lift me off.
5
I leaned against one of the sofas, coughing and spluttering, trying to gulp in oxygen, trying to recover. My pulse was doing push-ups in my neck and my windpipe felt like it was getting crushed.
I could see Crucial by the drinks cabinet, the baby Glock almost smothered in his hand. Stefan lay by his feet. There were two new holes in his face.
‘Turned out nice again, eh?’ I could hardly speak.
It got a smile out of Crucial. I could see that the cement round the diamond I’d given him was a lot thicker than it was on the conflict one.
Sam was on his knees, rifling Standish’s pockets.
‘How the fuck did you two get here?’
He pulled out a key fob with the Audi sign, key attached. ‘Lex has eyes and ears in the police HQ in Pretoria. They kept an eye on the flight manifests.’ He pushed Standish’s head with the heel of his shoe. ‘We knew that if he was alive he’d make his way to Switzerland eventually. Just like he said, he was going to sort things out. Soon as we knew he’d booked on to the flight to Zurich, we caught the one the night before, picked him up at the airport and followed him here.’
‘What for?’
He stepped over Standish to lean against the sofa with me. Crucial was pulling the covers off a couple of red and gold cushions.
‘I could ask you the same. Remember what Standish said? Man is the problem. No man, no problem . . .’
He watched Crucial ease the covers over Stefan’s and Standish’s faces to soak up the blood on the move, then grab Stefan by the arms and drag him towards the door.
‘Seems we all had the same idea.’
‘Nope – mine was even better.’
Sam threw Crucial the keys.
I held out a hand. ‘Wait.’ I turned to the dividing doors. ‘Giuseppe! Get the fuck in here!’
He stepped into the room, shoulders drooped, head down. He looked up at me like a schoolboy caught smoking behind the bike sheds.
‘Sit down!’
He tiptoed round the bodies. He was scared but in control. His eyes bounced between the two new faces.
‘I’m so sorry, Mr Nick . . . The blond man –’ Giuseppe pointed with a shaking hand ‘– he overheard me talking to you. He made me say that no one was here apart from Mr Stefan.’ His head dropped. ‘I didn’t know they wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry.’
It was several moments before he ran his fingers through his hair to compose himself a bit and looked up at me with large wet eyes. Maybe he thought he was next in line for some double-tap therapy.
‘These two run the church I told you about. They look after the kids.’
I crouched down and gazed directly into his eyes. ‘You know you must never tell anybody this, don’t you? I’m going to have to warn you, mate. Don’t make us come back here for you. Those boys won’t fuck about, do you understand?’
He was more concerned about the two bodies on the floor. ‘Mr Nick – remember what I told you? I’ll be leaving soon. I think it will be a good time now, no? Maybe I can help you. I’ll say Mr Stefan left for China and will be away for a long time.’
I stood up and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Tell you what, mate, maybe you can do better than that.’
I walked over to Stefan, pulled his wallet and mobile out of his pocket. ‘You know who he deals with at the bank?’
‘Mr Nick, I know everything. Mr Massimo. He always deals with Mr Massimo Spenza.’
I scrolled through Stefan’s address book and found him. ‘OK, here’s the deal.’ I made sure the other two were listening. ‘Stefan stays here. Crucial, you take shit-head out and get him tucked away into his car. Sam, get your account details for a bank transfer on a bit of paper.’
I turned to Giuseppe and smiled. ‘How about you helping Mr Stefan make a big contribution to those kids over there in Africa, eh? And maybe you can take a few dollars back with you to Lazio . . .’
His face crinkled into the cartoon-papa smile.
Crucial disappeared with Standish over his shoulder and I briefed Giuseppe on what to say to Massimo.
Sam had written the details on a torn-off corner of a DRC map.
I frowned at Giuseppe. ‘One minute. It’s Sunday today, isn’t it?’
Giuseppe was back to his old form. ‘For people like Mr Stefan, the bank is always open. I have listened to him move money from one country to another at midnight from this very sofa. It’s no problem.’
I held Stefan’s limp index finger in one hand and the black card in the other. I looked at Giuseppe. ‘You sure you’re ready, mate?’
His smile faded as he composed himself and hit the dial button.
‘Hello, Massimo – how are you?’ The deep German-cum-slight-Middle-Eastern accent was uncanny. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’ll be leaving for China this evening and I want to transfer some cash to South Africa before I leave.’ Giuseppe listened and even winked at me before answering. ‘No, a different account this time. I want you to move exactly five million USD. Do you want the details now or the authentication?’
Giuseppe nodded towards Stefan’s hand. ‘But of course. Are you ready?’
I swiped Stefan’s forefinger down the identifier. The LCD display lit up automatically and the matrix of six numbers began to tumble. One by one they stopped to display a code. Massimo would be doing the same at his end, wherever that might be. As soon as it stopped, I held the display up to his face. Giuseppe read it out: ‘I have seven-three-eight-nine-one-three.’
He leaned over to Sam for the sheet of paper. He read the details, ending with a ‘By tomorrow midday, as usual? Thank you, Massimo.’ There was a pause. ‘No, I think it’ll be a long trip. Possibly a month, six weeks if the deal is successful. Thank you. Goodbye.’
Giuseppe sat back slowly on the sofa and turned off the mobile. He rested it in his hands on his lap, shocked at what he’d got away with. We all were. Sam had even stopped chewing the bank details.
Crucial came back in. ‘Well, what’s happening?’
I took the phone and checked it was off. ‘You’ve just got a big contribution to the church.’
Giuseppe might still be in shock, but we weren’t. I slapped his leg. ‘Well done, mate.’
Sam turned to Crucial. ‘He’s just moved five million US!’
Crucial bent down and gripped Stefan by his legs. ‘It’s no good to us if we don’t clean up our mess, man.’
Sam grabbed the other end and they started to drag Stefan to the car.
