Fightback (9 page)

‘Yeah, you just keep going with that mouth of yours,' said Maggot. ‘Keep going and make me do it.'

Looking at the twisted smile on his face, Kier couldn't decide whether Maggot was going to pull the trigger or not. But one thing he did he know: for all the incredible things Chiang had taught him, none of them would be any use once the bullet left the gun. The only thing that mattered was speed, so—

‘Hey!' shouted Maggot.

But as he pulled the trigger, there was only empty space where Kier had been standing, and while Maggot shouted and cursed, Kier was zigzagging his way up the path, already trying to figure out what his next move was going to be.

It was just after midnight when Kier checked into a cheap hotel near Paddington station. The man on reception eyed him suspiciously, but when Kier put three twenty-pound notes on the counter he handed over the room key and went back to reading his paper.

Kier took a shower and called Jackson.

‘Did you get anything?' Jackson asked.

‘Yeah, a good kicking,' said Kier. ‘But don't worry, I can sort it. I just need to do things differently next time.'

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

‘Kier, it sounds as if you've been compromised. If you go back now they'll be suspicious. I think we should let Saskia handle this.'

‘What?'

Kier walked to the window and stared at the ribbon of tail lights outside, annoyed by the implication that he wasn't up to the job.

‘Look, it was dark and I was dressed like someone who lives in a skip. They won't recognise me next time, I can guarantee it.'

‘There are no guarantees in this game, Kier. Just tell me where you are and I'll send Saskia along. I'm not saying you can't do it, but you've become too involved. I just think you need to back off for a while.'

‘No,' said Kier quietly, ‘I'm not backing off. These people killed my father and I'm going to make them pay for it.'

‘Kier, you can't let—'

‘Tell Saskia to meet me tomorrow night at the Hilton Hotel on Park Lane. Let's say eleven o'clock in the foyer. And tell her she needs to look
expensive
.'

‘Kier, listen. You're not—'

‘Sorry, you're breaking up. I'll call you tomorrow.'

‘Kier—'

Kier ended the call and switched off his phone.

He turned on the TV and spent the next five minutes switching channels, trying to take the edge off his anger. Eventually he fell asleep watching some programme about dwarf lantern sharks. He woke up to hear someone explaining that they were no bigger than a packet of biscuits.

‘I did not know that,' he said.

Then he turned off the TV and went to sleep.

The next morning he went shopping and purchased a pair of khaki chinos, a brown snakeskin belt, a pale blue shirt with button-down collar, a dark navy blazer with yellow pinstripes and some expensive leather shoes.

The plan was ambitious, no doubt about it. And if it worked, then the big boys would show up tonight – maybe even the guy from the photograph. And then Kier could tail them back to wherever they came from and finally prove to Jackson that he was just as good as Saskia, although he still hoped she'd come along as backup. But in case she didn't, and in case things didn't work out quite as planned, he bought a length of washing line and some secateurs from a high-street store. Not exactly top-quality handcuffs, but they'd do the job if things got rough.

Then, because the sun was shining and he had nothing to do until evening, he took a detour through Hyde Park, watching parents buying ice creams for their children and spreading picnic rugs out beneath the trees.

He thought of his father then, and of Jackson's lost son.

And as he watched the children playing in the sunshine he knew that, if he could pull this off, it might just keep the shadows away from them for a little while longer.

As the day cooled into evening, he stopped off at the Pizza Express on Beauchamp Place and ordered a Sloppy Giuseppe with extra cheese. He sat at a table for one, drinking a double shot from the espresso bar and checking his messages. There were three of them, all from Jackson, all telling him to call back. But there was no mention of Saskia, so he turned his phone off again and watched the world go by, waiting for the sun to go down.

At around nine-fifteen he booked himself a bedroom suite at the Hilton on the twenty-sixth floor. It was jaw-droppingly expensive, but he needed to make a good impression. Besides, Jackson was paying and he could definitely afford it.

The bedroom suite looked suitably expensive too, but rather naff, as if it had been decorated by someone from
Antiques Roadshow
. There were several gold-framed paintings on the wall, a big double bed with tasselled cushions and a television concealed in a dark hardwood cabinet. Next to the TV was a dressing table with ornate gold handles and on top was a fruit bowl piled high with shiny red apples. But every inch of the place – from the marble bathroom to the Regency-striped armchair – shouted
money
, which was exactly the effect Kier was after.

After stashing the secateurs and washing line under the bed, Kier took the elevator back to the lobby and checked his reflection in the mirror. A bit of pizza topping had somehow found its way on to the arm of his blazer, but otherwise he looked exactly as he wanted to look: a well-dressed teenager who could afford the good things in life.

People were already queuing outside the soup kitchen when Kier arrived. He didn't think he would be recognised, but it wasn't worth the risk. Skirting around through the backstreets, he approached the bridge from the far side.

The men were skulking in the shadows as before, two trapdoor spiders waiting to pounce. Kier decided that confidence was the key. After all, it was dark and he was dressed completely differently; he just needed to play the part.

‘Hi,' he said. ‘I'm looking for some of the good stuff.'

Maggot stepped out of the shadows and stared at him. For a moment, Kier wondered if his new clothes would do their job, but then Maggot said suspiciously, ‘What kind of stuff?' and Kier knew he was in business.

‘You know.' Kier thought back to the drug identification
session he'd had in Crete before leaving. ‘Party stuff. Nose candy. Co
caine
.'

He noticed Maggot kept one hand tucked inside his pocket and knew what that was about. He would definitely deal with that one first if it came to it.

Maggot looked him up and down, thinking about the money he was going to make.

‘I can do you a couple of grams. But it's gonna cost you.'

‘How much?'

‘Sixty pounds a gram.'

Kier knew the going rate was more like forty and didn't want to appear naïve.

‘That's a bit steep, isn't it?'

‘Take it or leave it.'

‘What if I wanted more than a couple of grams? Would that bring the price down?'

Kier knew he was playing a risky game. But if he was going to get to the big boys, the stakes needed to be higher.

‘How much more?'

Kier swallowed and concentrated on keeping his heart rate level.

‘About a kilo?'

‘A
kilo
?' Maggot curled his lip. ‘Get out of here.'

‘I'm serious.'

He watched Ryan step out of the shadows and guessed that, if there was money to be made, Ryan didn't want to miss out.

‘Oh, you're serious?' Ryan was determined to join in now. ‘And where's a kid like you gonna get that kind of money?'

‘From my trust fund.'

‘Your
trust
fund?'

‘Yeah. My dad likes me to have the good things in life. It's my girlfriend's sixteenth birthday tomorrow night and she's having a party. So I thought I'd make sure there was enough of the good stuff to go round, if you know what I mean. A kilo should do it, don't you think?'

Maggot narrowed his eyes.

‘You know you're talking serious money here?'

‘Yeah. But not as serious as sixty quid a gram. If I'm buying in bulk, then I'm looking for a discount.'

‘Is that right?' Maggot licked his lips until they glistened with spit. ‘What kind of discount?'

‘I'll give you thirty grand for the lot.'

Kier could see the excitement in Maggot's eyes at the thought of all that money. But he was greedy for more.

‘That's a fifty per cent discount.'

‘Only at your prices. And I'm talking cash up front. No messing.'

Maggot looked at Ryan and when Ryan nodded Kier knew he had them hooked. But reeling them in wasn't going to be easy.

‘It ain't a problem for us,' said Maggot, ‘but it might be a problem for you. How are you going to get your hands on that kind of money?'

‘Maybe you should let me worry about that,' said Kier.

‘Maybe you should watch what you're getting into,' said Maggot. ‘This ain't no high school musical. If you want this stuff, we're going to need to talk to some pretty important people. The kind of people who get upset when they don't get paid on time, if you know what I mean.'

‘The money will be there,' said Kier. ‘But I'm going to need the stuff tonight.'

‘Tonight?'

‘Uh-huh.'

‘Can't we just bring it along to your girlfriend's party?'

‘Oh yeah, good idea.' Kier raised an eyebrow. ‘You think her dad's just going to let a couple of dealers walk in and start handing out charlie?'

‘OK. Give us a couple of hours and we'll have the stuff here.'

‘Not here,' said Kier. ‘Bring it to my hotel room.'

‘Why not here?'

‘Well, I don't know about you,' said Kier, ‘but it's not the kind of place I'd want to go walking around with thirty grand in my pocket. I mean,' he added, looking at Ryan, ‘you never know who you're going to meet.'

‘OK. So where's your hotel?'

‘The Hilton on Park Lane.'

‘Very nice.'

‘Yeah, it is. The room number is four hundred and thirty-six. I'll have the money there in a couple of hours. But if you're not there by midnight, I'll go shopping elsewhere.' He looked at Maggot and smiled. ‘If you know what I mean.'

He could tell that Maggot really, really wanted to hit him. But he wanted the money even more. So he just nodded and said, ‘We'll be there, don't worry.'

‘Good,' said Kier, turning back the way he had come. ‘In that case I'll see you later.'

‘Wait,' said Maggot, peering at Kier from the depths of his hood. ‘Don't I know you from somewhere?'

‘No,' said Kier, remembering the conversation he'd had with the policeman in Harrods. ‘I think I just have one of those faces.'

Then, before Maggot and his brain could start working things out, Kier walked up the path and disappeared into the night.

At around ten minutes to eleven, Kier folded his arms and looked at the bundles of notes he had piled up on the dressing table. Although there were nine thousand pounds here – more or less all that was left of the ten thousand he had arrived with – it didn't look nearly as impressive as he'd hoped. In fact, any self-respecting drug dealer would figure out pretty quickly that it was about twenty thousand short.

Kier stepped back and tapped his teeth with his fingernail.

It would have to do.

In the lobby he checked the clock and saw that it was gone eleven.

‘Are you waiting for someone?' asked the concierge.

‘Yeah, I'm waiting for a girl. She's dark-haired,
about sixteen, big brown eyes and, erm, hopefully dressed to kill. You haven't seen her by any chance, have you?'

The concierge shook his head. ‘I'm sure I would remember a girl like that,' he said.

‘I'm sure you would,' said Kier.

He gazed out of the entrance, but all he could see was a road full of late-night traffic.

‘If you do see her, can you tell her I'm in room four hundred and thirty-six?'

‘Four hundred and thirty-six. Of course, sir.'

Kier took a last look out at the street and then headed for the elevator. Maybe she hadn't got the message. Maybe Jackson had decided not to send her after all.

Either way, it looked as if Kier would be doing this alone.

Back in his hotel room, he put the money in the drawer of the dressing table. He tried the balcony doors, but they were locked and there was no key. Taking a paperclip from the hotel information folder, he undid the security lock and opened it, feeling cool air on his face and hearing the sounds of the street from below.

He turned on the news and saw that house prices were down, unemployment was up and a beluga
whale called Nack had learned the Japanese word for ‘bucket'.

He watched the forecast and saw that the good weather was set to continue.

Then he turned off the TV and waited.

At 11.28 there was a knock at the door.

Kier guessed three, maybe four of them. He really hoped one would be the guy from the photograph.

He took a slow, deep breath.

Then he opened the door.

Maggot was standing there with his arms folded and Ryan stood behind him with a small rucksack slung over his shoulder.

No one else was with them.

Maggot grinned.

‘Did you think we weren't coming?'

‘No,' said Kier. ‘I knew you'd come.'

He stood back to let them pass before making a quick check of the corridor, but they had definitely come alone.

Kier knew at once that he had miscalculated. In his mind he had imagined the promise of serious money would draw out the big boys. That they would come along to his hotel room and he would show them the cash, make out he was going to get some more and then trail them back to wherever
they kept the stuff. But in his haste to complete his mission, he had overlooked one simple fact: Ryan and Maggot were driven by greed. They thought they were in line for the biggest payday of their lives, and they weren't about to share it with anyone else. Kier would have to think again. And he would have to do it fast.

‘So,' said Maggot as Kier walked back into the room. ‘Have you got the money?'

‘Yeah, I've got it.'

‘OK.' Maggot sat on the bed and leaned back against the headboard. He put his hands behind his head as if he owned the place. ‘So where is it?'

‘Show me the stuff first.'

Maggot looked at Ryan and nodded. Ryan unfastened the drawstrings on the top of his rucksack and pulled out a plastic carrier bag. He reached into the carrier bag, took out a brown-paper package and placed it on the bed. Kier took a step forwards, but Maggot moved his leg in front of it.

‘Not so fast,' he said. ‘You've seen ours, now let's see yours.'

‘All I've seen is a brown-paper package,' said Kier. ‘For all I know there could be half a dozen sausages in there.'

‘What's the matter?' sneered Ryan. ‘Don't you trust us?'

‘Oh sure,' said Kier. ‘Why wouldn't I?'

He opened the drawer of the dressing table a little way and pulled out a bundle of money.

‘There,' he said, tossing it on the bed. ‘That's just for openers.'

Ryan leaned forward to pick it up, but Maggot swung his legs over the side of the bed and got there before him.

‘Well, let's see, shall we?' He thumbed through the notes in a way that suggested he was used to counting money. ‘Five hundred pounds. That ain't gonna get you very far, is it?'

‘Like I said, that's just for openers.'

Ryan moved around the bed and Kier saw that his fists were bunched, ready for use.

‘Got some more tucked away with your makeup, have you?'

Kier pushed the dressing-table drawer shut.

‘If you're not going to play fair,' he said, ‘then I'm not going to play at all.'

‘You're the one who wanted to buy it, kid,' said Ryan. ‘Now you're going to find out how much it really costs.' He moved a step closer. ‘Come on. Give me the money.'

Kier thought of still, clear water; of bright petals dancing across a stone floor.

‘Why don't you make me?' he asked.

Ryan had obviously been a boxer at one time, because he moved quickly for a big man. Kier watched him lean slightly as if he was preparing to throw a stone, then swing his right fist hard and fast at Kier's head. Experience had taught Ryan that a punch like that would knock most people out before they even hit the ground.

But Kier was not most people.

Which meant that all Ryan's experience was about as much use to him as a concrete lifeboat.

Kier moved smoothly beneath the punch and turned slightly so that Ryan's momentum would unbalance him, waiting until the weight of Ryan's chest made contact with his shoulder before twisting fast and somersaulting him into the wall. Ryan hit the floor with a thump that shook the room but he was quickly on his feet again. As he ran at Kier like an angry bull, Kier calmly cupped his hand and waited until Ryan was nearly upon him. Then he flicked his arm out like a striking cobra and, as his fingertips struck Ryan's temple, Ryan staggered backwards and sank to the ground.

‘Well, I'll be damned,' whispered Maggot as Ryan deflated like a punctured beach ball.

Kier turned to see that Maggot was standing by the balcony doors with the gun in his hand.

‘I knew you looked familiar,' he said.

‘Yeah, well,' said Kier, playing for time, ‘I like to dress down once in a while.'

‘What?' said Maggot, seeming confused.

And it was then, with a sickening feeling in his stomach, that Kier realised the truth. Maggot hadn't – as he had first thought – recognised him from their previous encounter beneath the bridge. He had recognised him because he had been there on the night when everything changed, standing at the end of the hospital corridor with a hood over his head and a gun in his hand.

‘It was you,' said Kier. ‘You were the one who killed my father.'