Stiffed (28 page)

‘Get out of the way or I’ll blow his fucking brains out.’

‘There’s no way out of here
.  And even if there was, do you really think we’re going to let you get away?’

‘I’m not joking.  I’ll do it.’

‘Joe, just get out of the way,’ I say, remembering how she executed The Rock.  Kate never was fully rational.  Kooky as Jason puts it.  Now she’s tottered over the edge into a manic madness.  She’d put a bullet into Jason’s head without a second thought or sense of regret.

‘Please,’ Jason says, ‘just do as she says.  I don’t want to die.’

I’ll second that; I don’t want him to die either.

Gerlach
holds his ground.

‘Joe, she’s already killed at least two people tonight
,’ I reason.  ‘Just let her go.  You can catch her again later.’

He backs away slipping into the doorway of the meeting room.

‘Come on, big guy,’ Kate says to Jason, ‘we’re going for a drive.’

They edge along
the corridor, passing Gerlach, Kate dancing round Jason’s girth as they reach the stairs so that she can keep the cop in her sightline. 

I trail after
her. 

Gerlach and I stand at the top of the stairs and watch them descend, Kate going down backwards, the gun never wavering from Jason’s head.

At the bottom they disappear heading towards the bar.

We clatter down the stairs in pursuit. 

‘You’re a moron, Tad, do you know that?’ Gerlach says.

‘
That seems to be the consensus.’

* * *

We’re five miles outside of Carrick racing towards Dromore.  The road is starting to twist and turn as it rises up the contours of the Green Gables hills. 

Jason is driving the Taurus, Kate in the
passenger seat beside him.  We’re a hundred meters back, tracking but not hassling them.  The hope is that she’ll realize that she can’t out-run us and give herself up without a struggle. 

I think Gerlach is deluding himself.  She’s not going to surrender voluntarily.  It’s not in her nature.

Gerlach has radioed for reinforcements, but he’s been told there are none.  The police’s capacity has been stretched wafer thin by the shootout at the truck stop, the incident in the mall, the gunfight at the Foxboro Hotel, and Pirelli’s murder.  Half the cops from neighboring counties are already giving assistance, state troopers and the FBI also muscling in on the act.

Listening to the radio conversation it’s clear that Sally, Annabelle and Paavo are all okay and unhurt.  The bad guys haven’t fared so well - only Denise and Young Barry have made it out of the hotel unscathed; Redneck and the Chef required hospital treatment; Barry White, Fat Barry, Cowboy, Juan and The Rock are all dead, along with Pirelli, Marino and Junior.  Eight home runs and two
steals for no loss. Not bad for a bunch of amateur John McClanes.  I would have preferred it if it were a nil-all draw.  The main thing now is to close out the game and keep the opposition score to a big, fat zero.

‘Fucking budget cuts,’ Gerlach says, putting the radio
mic in its holder.  ‘Have you any idea how much paperwork you’ve generated today?’

‘A lot?’
I hazard.

‘A small forest’s worth.  It’s goi
ng to take months to fill it all out and process it.  And now this!’  He gestures out the windscreen.

‘Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry
.  I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.  It just kind of … unfolded.’

‘Unfolded!
  They’re still searching for bodies at the Foxboro hotel!  And I thought you were pulling an insurance scam!’ 

‘I can explain.’

‘I bet you can.  I bet it’ll be as good as the lies you print in that rag you work for.’

‘The Spring Times is a respectable paper.’

‘That doesn’t mean it’s not economical with the truth.  You’re fucked, Tad.  The only way you’ll leave prison is in a box.’

‘That’s what I figure.’

As yet I’m neither arrested nor in handcuffs.  Gerlach has not had time to do either.  I’m simply helping the police with their enquiries.  It’s only a matter of time, however.  I’m a prisoner in waiting.

‘And you owe me a new uniform.’

‘I’m sure it’ll all wash out fine.  It was only a bit of garbage.’

‘You’re lucky I haven’t had the chance to whip your ass.’

‘I’m sure you’ll manage it before the night is over.  Everyone else has had a go.’

We sit in silence for a couple of hundred meters, keeping a steady distance behind the Taurus.  We’re driving too fast for the bends and I’ve starting having some awful déjà vu moments from the crash that killed my parents.  Somehow Gerlach is managing to find smooth lines through the curves, confident in himself and the car.

‘
How the hell did you hook up with Kathy Janowski in the first place?’ Gerlach asks, breaking the truce. ‘She’s always been a wild one; forever in some kind of trouble.  Crazy, but not … this.’  He gestures at the Taurus.

‘I met her at a wedding.  She asked me to dance.’

‘Didn’t you think she was just a little out of your league?’

‘They all seem to be out of my league.’

‘You got that right.  Like Annabelle Levy.  You’re not hooked up with her, are you?’

‘No.’

‘I thought not.  She’s a class act.’

‘She’s out of
your
league,’ I counter.

Gerlach snorts a laugh in response.

In front of us the Taurus has entered a bend too quickly.  Jason is fighting to keep the wheels on the road, slewing sideways. 

For a moment it looks like he’s going to make it then the
tail end of the car smashes into a crash barrier, sparks flying and debris spraying up in a filthy cloud. 

Oh god, after surviving the day from hell, Jason is about to imitate
the fate of my parents.  And yet again I’m responsible.

The car
bounces back across the tarmac into the rocky hill face opposite, then canons back, spinning three hundred and sixty degrees, before finally grinding to a halt.

‘Fuck,’ Gerlach mutters, stealing my thought.

The passenger door to the Taurus flies open and Kate sets off for the hillside and the cover of the pine trees.

We
pull up behind the battered car and I’m dashing for the stricken vehicle before we’re fully stopped.

I yank open the driver’s door.  ‘Jason?’

‘Next time you find a dead body, call somebody else,’ he says, the airbag squashed against his massive frame.

‘You’re okay?’
I ask, my body relaxing with relief.

‘I’ll live, no thanks to you.’

He’s fine, thank heavens. Shook up, but essentially okay. 

Gerlach
pushes me out of the way, ducking his head into the car.

I look over to where Kate is struggling over a fence.  She’s going to get away. 
With the cap worth a supposed million dollars.  She’s lied, cheated, killed and kidnapped.  I’m going to spend God knows how many years of my life behind bars, whilst she escapes to live a life of luxury.  I think not.  I set off after her.

I’m across the road before Gerlach realizes
what’s going on.

‘Tad!
  Tad, you can run, but you can’t hide,’ he shouts after me.

I’m not trying to
run, I’m trying for justice and an eye for an eye.  If I’m going to prison, then so is Kate Jansen, I mean Kathy Janowski.

I clear the fence without too much
difficulty and set off up the slope after Kate.  All that cycling has paid off.  I’m much fitter and I’m making up the ground pretty quickly.

The cap spills from her head, tumbling down the slope towards me
.  She turns and watches its progress.  I grab it, jam it on and continue after her.  When I get within a few meters of her, she turns and raises her small pistol.

I come to a halt, gasping for
air.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. 

Big surprise.
  Welcome to my life.

Kate
walks back towards me, struggling to catch her breath.

‘You don’t know when to give up, do you, Tad
hg?’

I shake my head.

‘Kneel down.’

Damn.  This feels
like goodbye life.

I do as I’m told.  If there was any more proof needed of my stupidity, then this is it.

Kate places the muzzle of the gun against my forehead.  ‘This might be a small pistol,’ she says, ‘but it it’ll kill you.  It fires a .22 bullet.  It has enough velocity to punch its way through your skull, but not enough to exit.  Instead, it bounces around in there turning your brain to mush.  You’ll be dead before you know it.’

If she’s trying to make my imminent death seem any less foreboding, she’s not succeeding.

‘Kate, look, I …’ I trail off, lost for words.

I was never really certain what the top of the sphincter scale would feel like.  Now I know – like someone has wiped your mind clean
, locked all your muscles except your sphincter and turned your bowels into a chocolate smoothie.

‘Tadhg, please.
  Don’t beg.  It’s not dignified.’

Dignified
?  There’s little chance of that given the mess I’m about to make of my underwear.  All I hope is that I get a more venerable burial than being wrapped in a dirty sheet held in place by a spiral of duct tape.

‘This is going to hurt me a lot more than it does you,’ Kate says.

My last thought before the loud bang is ‘bullshit.’ 

I always thought it would be ‘fuck
’.

There’s a solid t
hump against my forehead. 

Then nothing.

I should be dead.  My lying, cheating, kidnapping, murdering ex-girlfriend has just shot me in the head.

Kate starts to laugh.

I raise my hands, take off the cap and feel my forehead.  Nothing.  Not even a lump.  There should be a neat round hole.  A bullet should have bounced around inside my skull turning my brains into a strawberry milkshake.

Kate backs away, the gun still pointing at me.   Then she turns on her heels and
starts to scramble up the slope. 

A
fter a few meters she turns to face me again.  ‘You can keep the Goddamn cap, Tadhg.  It’s cursed.  Besides, I’ll never be able to collect the money now.’

She sets off again and
I watch her scramble up to the top.  There she turns and stares down at me.  ‘I’ve always been a Red Sox fan anyway.’  Then she disappears.

Damn
!  She wasn’t even a true fan.

I hold up the cap and inspect the front. 
The heavy white stitching of the sword in the Crusaders’ logo is frayed.  I gently tug back the threads to reveal a chink of silver underneath.  I pull a few more strands free to reveal the serrated edge of a small key, the metal engraved with a couple of digits.

I snort a laugh to myself. 
A key.  A key that has just saved my life.  A key to a locker or a safe deposit box.  A key to a million dollars.  The cap really did contain a million dollars carefully hidden behind the pronounced embossing of the Crusaders’ logo. 

I glance back up the hill and wonder how far Kate will get; whether she’ll find some other patsy to take her in and hide her.  She’s the kind that always survives – scheming and living by their wits. 
If she manages to stay free until tomorrow morning, she’ll probably make it across the Canadian border by mid-afternoon, travelling to a new life, her trail fading to cold faster than footsteps in a snow storm.

I cover up the key with the loose threads and put the cap back on. 
A million dollars should buy us a decent lawyer.   And if that fails, it can probably buy a lot of things in prison.  Like protection.

One thing it can’t buy though is true friends and I already have the best one can hope for
– the kind that will help you move bodies in the middle of the night; the kind that will stick by you and keep going regardless of the task or odds or how stupid you’ve been; the kind that you’d put your own life on the line to defend.  And you can’t ask for any more.

I set off down the hill to Jason and Sergeant Gerlach, slipping and sliding on the loose ground and pine needles.
  I suspect it’s going to be another long, exhausting night, this time answering a barrage of questions, followed by the full glare of the media’s spotlight and months of legal wrangling as the wheels of justice turn.  I doubt my mug shot is going to be very flattering given my battered state, but at least it’ll prove that I survived the longest and most eventful day in Carrick history near enough intact. 

Just.

I spot Gerlach climbing up towards me, his gun drawn.

‘She’s gone
.’