Eight Ball Boogie - Declan Burke [88]
He didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. Denise transferred her wide-eyed gaze from me to Gonzo. He should have shrivelled up and died. He didn’t.
“They could have killed me, Gonz. They tried, Christ knows they tried.”
“Don’t take it personal, Harry.”
“Just business, Gonz. You set me up to take a bullet for a few lousy quid?”
“You’re smart, Harry. I had faith in you.”
“I’m touched. I’d imagine Katie is too. Touched in the head, she looked pretty fried when I dropped her off at the hospital. I presume you were going to ask how she was doing, seeing as how you were knocking her off?”
“Katie can look after herself.”
“Maybe. She looked after me pretty well.” I ignored the affronted look Denise shot me. “See, she looked after me too well, someone she hardly knew, some lunatic who turned up at that hour of the morning telling her that his brother had been murdered. I was grateful, don’t get me wrong, and it’s nice to see that Irish hospitality is still alive and well. But still.”
Galway was shifting in his seat, edgy. His breath was coming short and I could almost hear him sweat. I knew, and Gonzo knew, that he was going to do something desperate.
“Get Dee out of here, Gonz. For Ben’s sake.”
He shook his head, motioned with the gun, which was still pointed at Galway.
“On the floor. Now. Face down, hands out. Do it slow.”
Galway eased himself off the couch, spread-eagled himself on the shag-pile. Gonzo looked at me.
“Katie’s a friendly girl. So she’s friendly to you. So what?”
“So she thinks I’m mixed up in a murder attempt. That’s the kind of friendly you buy and the last time I checked my stock was rock bottom. Friendly to some stranger who won’t go to the Dibble about being shot? Who’s that friendly? No one, that’s who. Not unless they know there’s no murder.”
“You knew I wasn’t dead.”
“Not until tonight.”
“What can I say, Holmes?” he drawled. “You’re a fucking genius.”
I ignored him. While I was talking I was still alive, and Ben was still alive, and Denise was still alive. Gonzo had to be alive too, to do the listening, but then you can’t have everything.
“So I’m supposed to think you’re dead, which was fine and dandy by me. People die every day, even brothers. Galway and Brady even turned up the next morning to keep the show on the road. The only person who knew I was at Katie’s was Katie, she had to let them know. Had to let you know, rather, and you told Galway. They could have looked around while they were there but they didn’t, because they would have found me. And that wouldn’t have done at all. So off they toddled, job done, waiting for me to make my next stupid move. It was only a matter of waiting.”
I looked back at Denise.
“Anyway, Gonzo’s dead. Sad but true. I was more worried about the living, which was why I got Ben and you out of town. Once I knew you were safe I started worrying about Herbie, who wasn’t answering the phone. So I take a stroll around to Herbie’s and the boy’s in bad shape, because someone told Sheridan that Herbie had the photos of him and Helen Conway. How did they know Herbie had the camera? Katie knew, because I told her. So Galway gets on the blower to Sheridan, tells him this could wreck the deal, and Herbie gets the shitty end of the stick. They don’t find the camera, because I have it, but what I couldn’t work out was how they managed to find Herbie. Who knew where Herbie was? Dutch.”
Gonzo looked away from Galway, stared at me, eyes hooded, lips pursed. Then he went back to Galway.
“I don’t blame Dutch, he did what he had to do. But once I knew he was offside he was offside for good. And Dutchie would have worked out where Denise and Ben were, which meant Gonz could find you if he looked hard enough. That was okay, though, because you were safe until the shit hit the fan, which it did tonight in The Odeon. As far as Gonzo was concerned, I’d get a bullet and he could nail Sheridan