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Before The Killing Starts
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Текст книги "Before The Killing Starts"


Автор книги: James Harper



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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Chapter 10

Ellie rested her head on the steering wheel and tried to think what to do next.

She'd followed Evan to Kelly's bar and waited in her car to see what happened. She didn't know what she'd expected but it seemed like Evan must have stirred things up in there. She'd watched him back out through the door, ass first, before jamming a pool cue through the handles. A couple of seconds after that the doors had bulged outwards, the cue had snapped and two beaners had come rushing out and chased after him. She'd felt an adrenal spike of fear quickly followed by a sweaty giddiness as relief flooded her body. Thank God she'd sent Evan in there. To think she might have just walked in herself, straight into their hands.

Evan had made it to his car and taken off, making the two guys double back for theirs. She'd lost sight of them all after that.

Her phone rang. She fished it out of her bag—it was Evan.

Looks like he must have got away from them.

'Where are you?' he asked without bothering to say hello. He sounded pissed, but that was hardly surprising—not that she was supposed to know anything about it.

'What's wrong?' she said, trying hard to get the right balance between concern and surprise.

'I'll tell you when I see you,' he snapped. 'Where are you?'

She had no idea where he might be and she didn't want him to know that she'd followed him. In the phone she could hear a siren in the background wherever he was. Then she heard it faintly through her window. She wound it down and listened. The two sounds were perfectly synchronized; they had to be the same, That meant he was still somewhere nearby. How far did a siren carry? Two blocks? Three? She had no idea. She turned away from the window, towards the sidewalk, and hunched over the passenger seat as if she'd dropped something on the floor.

'Ellie?' He made no effort to conceal his irritation.

'I'm . . . at my hotel. Why?'

'What's that noise? I can hear sirens. Are you sure?'

She felt a rush of panic. 'Of course I'm sure. I've got the window open. Hang on a sec.' She wound the car window up. 'There, is that better?'

'Okay' He didn't sound convinced. 'Stay there. I'm coming over. We need to talk.'

'You can't,' she said, the words bursting out of her mouth a little too quickly. She didn't know if he was two or three blocks closer or further away than she was? He might get there first.  'I'm just about to go out.' It sounded so lame in her ears. He was bound to be suspicious now. But it seemed his annoyance was getting in the way.

'Ellie,' he snapped, almost shouted, 'this is important . . .'

'What do you need to say that you can't say over the phone anyway? If it's that important, tell me now. If not, it can wait.'

She allowed herself a gotcha smile. There wasn't a lot he could say to that. On the other end of the line she heard him take a couple of deep breaths. Take as many as you like.

'Evan?'

'Yeah, I'm here.' That was more like it. There was a satisfying amount of defeat in his voice. 'What time will you be back?'

She relaxed a little.

'Why don't you come over around six?' she said in an encouraging tone, like she was offering him the last slice of pie.

'Okay. See you then.'

The phone went dead. He really was pissed. With any luck he'd have calmed down by the time he came over—another reason not to meet him straight away. She didn't want to be on the receiving end of all that testosterone. She dropped the phone back in her bag and straightened up. She better get back to the hotel just in case he went there anyway, the suspicious prick. A movement registered in the periphery of her vision. She turned and looked out the window and her hand flew to her mouth, an involuntary shriek escaping through her fingers.



Chapter 11

'Talk about a lucky break,' Juan said to José, shaking his head as he backed the car out of the narrow side street. There was a screech of tires and a long, indignant blast on a horn as the car they'd backed out in front of made an emergency stop. He raised his arm lazily and gave the driver the finger in the rear-view mirror as he straightened up. Asshole shouldn't have been driving so fast in the first place.

'So what are we going to do now?' José said.

The car behind jerked into life, pulled around them and drew up alongside. A large guy with a very red face waved his fist and shouted abuse at them through the window. Specks of spittle spattered the glass.

José leaned forward in his seat and the two of them turned to see what all the fuss was about. Oddly enough, the guy had a quick change of attitude. Something about the sight of the two of them staring back at him, their dark eyes predatory and mischievous, made him remember what a hurry he'd been in. He stopped shouting like somebody had pulled the plug, snapped his eyes front and did his best to put his foot through the floor. The car shot forward and disappeared down the road.

'How about we go after that asshole,' José said. 'He called you a wetback.'

Juan turned towards him and wagged his finger as if to say: liar, liar, pants on fire.

'How d'you know. You couldn't hear him.'

José grinned. 'I read his lips.' He mouthed the word a couple of times putting the emphasis on the 'w' and the 'b'. 'You can see it a mile off.'

Juan laughed. 'Yeah, if you're looking for it. Anyway, we haven't got time—we've got to get back to the bar.'

José twisted in the seat and pulled his head back to get a good look at his partner; make sure there wasn't something he was missing.

'What for? The guy's not going to go back there—not ever. Not if he's got any sense.'

'Doesn't matter,' Juan said. He had that smug look on his face that José always wanted to punch; the one that said that's why I'm the dog who eats first. 'He left his card with the guy behind the bar. If it's not already in the trash, I'm sure he'll be happy to give it to us.'

José grinned back at him. 'Don't you just love it when people make it easy for you?'

But Juan wasn't listening to him any more. They were almost back at the bar and he'd been looking for somewhere to park when his head had snapped around like somebody had slapped him.

'What is it?' José said, trying to follow his eyes.

'It's her!'

'Who?' José said, craning his neck to try to see what his partner was so excited about.

'It's that bitch Ellie. I can't believe it. She's sitting right there in her car across from the bar. Look, there.' He leaned across José and pointed. 'She's hunched over but you can see it's her. It looks like she's on the phone.'

'So what's she doing there?'

'I reckon she must be the guy's client. She sent him after Dixie and then followed him.'

'Like she doesn't trust him, you mean? Maybe it's him she's on the phone to.'

'Doesn't matter. Here's what we're going to do.'

Juan carried on past Ellie's car and stopped for a second to let José out. Then he made a U-turn and drove back the way he'd come while José doubled back on the sidewalk. About ten cars behind her, he made another U-turn and drove slowly forward timing it perfectly so that he pulled up alongside her, boxing her in between the parked cars in front and behind her, just as José got to the passenger door.

He pulled gently to a stop and looked across at her through her driver's window. She was turned away from him, hunched over and talking on the phone. She finished her call, dropped the phone in her bag and sat upright. Then she turned and looked straight at him. She let out a startled shriek as he gave her a massive grin and José climbed into the passenger seat.



Chapter 12

Ellie twisted round at the sound of the passenger door opening, and saw José's greasy face leering at her. Her bag was sitting on the passenger seat. She made a dive for it, but she was way too slow. She got a hand on the strap but José wrenched it out of her grip, dropped into the seat and started rooting through it. A couple of seconds later he pulled out a Kahr P380. The five-inch long pocket pistol almost disappeared in his large hand.

'Nice toy,' he said with a grin. He dropped the gun in his pocket and carried on digging through the bag. Next out was a can of pepper spray. That went in the pocket too.

Behind her, Juan opened the driver's door and leaned in and grabbed her by the collar of her jacket.

'Out you get,' he said, and hauled her out of the car. José leaned across and pulled the door shut behind her.

 Juan looped his arm round her neck and they shuffled backwards in the narrow space between the two cars like some strange dance move. He tightened his thick forearm across her throat, choking her. The more she struggled, the tighter he clamped it. Her head snapped from side to side as she tried to see if anyone was watching, but there was nobody around to help.

She bent her head forwards and threw it sharply backwards but he moved easily out of the way. He clamped his other hand over her mouth and nose, holding her head into his body, squashing her nose against her face, cutting off her air—but not the stale smell of cigarettes on his fingers. How is that possible? The callused skin of his palm on her flesh made her shudder. His mouth was less than an inch away from her face; she could feel his mustache like a hairy spider's leg and smell his lunch on his breath. In her mind she imagined little brown pieces of refried bean caught in the gaps between his teeth and her stomach gave a salty, burping lurch. She grabbed the hand over her mouth and tried to work her fingers under it, clawing with her nails in an attempt to prise it away. He just squeezed tighter.

But she'd achieved something at least—with no hands left to open the car door he called for José to stop picking his nose and get his sorry ass around this side of the car and get the door open. He hadn't expected her to struggle so violently. Thinking about it now, he should have pulled up next to her facing the other way—it would have made much easier to get her from one car to the other.

Ellie had to do something before José came round. She felt light-headed from the lack of air. She couldn't budge his hand, so she stopped trying to pull it away and jabbed her elbow backwards into his ribs. It was like elbowing a brick wall. He didn't even flinch. She lifted her foot and stamped down onto his instep as hard as she could.

He let out a surprised yelp of pain. That was better. His hand dropped away from her mouth and she felt the grip round her neck loosen. She stamped down hard again, driving her elbow backwards and twisting violently at the same time. He lost hold of her completely. It was all the chance she was going to get. She lunged forward down the narrow space between the two cars. On the other side of her car she was aware of José moving fast, trying to get around the front of the car to cut her off. Behind her Juan had recovered. He threw out his arm, catching nothing but a handful of air, and started after her.

She was so close but she wasn't going to make it. She made it through the gap at the exact same time as José rounded the front of the car. He didn't even try to grab hold of her, just kept on going and plowed into her, sending her flying backwards across the hood of their car. She lay spread-eagled and winded, José sprawled across her, pinning her down. He looked like he was enjoying every minute of it. She was sure he was rubbing himself up and down against her. Juan got there a second later, grabbed hold of her jacket collar again and pulled her out from under José, who stood up and winked at her, massaging his crotch provocatively.

'I was just starting to have some fun,' he said.

Juan said something under his breath which sounded a lot like pervert.

She didn't have the strength to struggle any more. He dragged her backwards, her heels bumping along the floor as she tried to stay upright. José slipped past them and opened the back door and Juan bundled her onto the back seat and climbed in after her. José slammed the door shut after them and went round and got in the driver's seat.

Ellie rested her head on the headrest and closed her eyes. She felt sick and giddy and needed to pee. Her chest was heaving so hard she thought she'd pop the buttons on her blouse. She was glad José was in the front where he couldn't see. At least Juan's breathing sounded worse than hers; the painful, wheezing breath of a heavy smoker. Just like a pair of lovers after an energetic sex session, she thought before she could stop herself.

'You need to get down the gym a bit more,' she said, once she'd got her breath back. 'Give up the smokes, too.'

He snorted and it turned into a coughing fit. 'I should've just given you a slap, more like.'

'You're right. That sounds like your style.'

If she thought she was going to get a rise out of him, she was disappointed.

'Whatever.'

'So, where are we going?'

He twisted in his seat to look at her and coughed a wet laugh. 'Well,' he said, 'we've got quite a busy schedule.' He held up his hand and flicked out a yellow-stained index finger. A shiver sliced through her. She could feel and smell it on her mouth. She imagined him pushing it between her lips, forcing her teeth apart, pushing her tongue down her throat until she gagged. Where the hell did that come from?  'First stop, we've got to pick something up from the bar.' He flicked out a second finger, the middle one. 'Then it's back to your hotel.' He gave her a small smile and flicked out a third finger. 'Then, as a special treat, you've got a little chat with Chico.'

In the front José sniggered.

'Are you going to tell us where you're staying,' Juan said, 'or do you fancy getting in the trunk while we drive around all day looking for it?'

She knew there wasn't any point in not telling them—they'd get it out of her in the end. She might as well just avoid all the unpleasantness that would entail. On top of that, an idea had just come into her mind. There was no way she could escape from these two on her own, but if she could delay things long enough at the hotel, they might still be there when Evan turned up. Not that she thought Evan would be able to deal with these guys, but any chance was better than nothing. Trouble was, it was another two hours until he was due to get there.

Unfortunately for her, it didn't pan out the way she was hoping. It only took five minutes to pick up Evan's business card. When they told Dave the bartender what they wanted his face lit up. He fished it out of the trash where he'd thrown it after giving Dixie the details on the phone with an expression on his face that told them the more trouble he could cause Evan, the better.

'Who's this guy Evan Buckley?' Juan said, turning the card over in his fingers.

Ellie gave a small shrug. 'No idea.'

'Really?' He raised an eyebrow. 'It's just that he was in the bar asking after Dixie, and then here you are, sitting outside the exact same bar.'

'We thought maybe you sent him in there,' José said from the front seat. 'We don't believe in coincidences.'

Ellie shook her head. 'Sorry. Never heard of him.'

The pair of them nodded like they would have been disappointed if she'd said anything else.

'Hey, José,' Juan said with a grin, 'I just had an idea. You wanna bet I can't find this guy's name in her phone?'

José grinned back and shook his head. 'No way, man—it'd be like throwing money away.'

The two of them laughed and Ellie could have kicked herself for being so stupid. They wouldn't have to look very hard—Evan's number would be at the top of the call list. She placed the side of her head on the window and closed her eyes, the glass cool against her skin.

'Don't worry,' Juan said, putting his hand on her knee and giving it a friendly squeeze, 'lying about him is the least of your problems.' He lifted his hand and put it back on her thigh as if they were on a date, on their way back to his or her place in the back of a cab.

Ellie shuddered and kept her eyes shut and they drove the rest of the way to her hotel in silence. There was nobody on reception when they got there. Juan caught her looking hopefully and smiled as he pushed her up the stairs. That's what you get for staying in a dump. It didn't take more than ten minutes to turn the room over. It wasn't a large room and there weren't many hiding places. They looked in the closet and pulled out the dresser drawers, but she knew that they hadn't expected to find anything in the room—who would be so stupid, after all—but they had to do it anyway, because Chico would ask.

'We didn't really expect to find anything,' Juan said with a shrug.

'But we had to do it anyway,' José said. 'In case Chico asks.' He took a step towards her and pushed her backwards onto the bed, then sat down beside her. The ancient springs, worn out from too much abuse sagged under his weight, and they ended up pushed toward each other, arms and legs touching. She could feel the heat coming off him through his sleeve and forced herself to sit still, tried to ignore him, knowing any attempt to move away would only encourage him.

'So, what shall we do now?' he said, winking at her. What was it with men and winking? It was as if they thought they were doing you a favor: hey, little lady, this is your lucky day. What it actually did was make her skin crawl. She swallowed nervously and looked away so she didn't have to watch him staring at her boobs, his tongue hanging out. Who knows what he'd do if he caught sight of the contempt in here eyes. He bounced up and down a couple of times, the springs creaking obscenely. 'We could try these springs out. Feels like they've seem a bit of use.' His voice was thicker now; she could feel his growing excitement. He lifted his hand and started to stroke her hair, as if a little tenderness to begin with made it all okay when he raped her.

'Come on, there's no time for that,' Juan said, breaking the tension, although it sounded to her as if it wouldn’t take much to persuade him to find five minutes or so.

She didn't need to be told twice, even if he wasn't talking to her. She pushed herself off the bed giving José the perfect target. He gave her a hard slap on the ass, the sound of it loud in the small room.

'Ow, that hurt,' he said, shaking his hand, but he was laughing at the same time.

'I felt that,' Juan said and grabbed her by the arm. He pulled her roughly towards him, shook her and pushed his face into hers. 'I ought to slap you around a bit,' he told her, 'make you tell us where the cash is, but I can't even be bothered.'

'Even though she deserves it,' José added from behind her. She didn't need to look at him to know he'd have given it a go. Just to pass the time, if nothing else. Sick little pervert.

'Even though you deserve it,' Juan agreed, nodding.

She looked back and forth between the two of them, but had the sense to not say anything. There's a time and a place for a smart mouth and this wasn't either.

'It's not a problem, though,' Juan said and took hold of her cheek between his thumb and forefinger. 'Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's off to see Chico you go,' he sang, not caring that the meter was all wrong and it just didn't sound right. Stupid beaner.

José jumped up off the bed and sniggered. 'Hey, Juan, you wanna bet she tells Chico where it is,' he said.

Juan laughed. 'No way, man—it'd be like throwing money away.'



Chapter 13

Dixie had only met Enrico Alvarez once before and that was enough to last him a lifetime. He also knew the current meeting was a pointless exercise—he was only going through the motions to keep Chico happy but obviously Chico didn't know that.

Alvarez was built like a medium-sized outhouse and didn't smell much better. Dixie drew in a deep breath to stop his chest from collapsing completely as Alvarez clamped him in a hug and pounded on his back as if they were long lost brothers. It made him feel a little light-headed and he was pleased he'd skipped breakfast. Crispy stood just inside the door and one of Alvarez's men, Miguel, leaned against the wall behind Alvarez eyeing them carefully. It seemed to Dixie that Miguel was paying a lot of attention to his hands as he hugged the big man back. Maybe he was watching in case Dixie tried to grab his boss by the throat and throttle him. He'd have had a better chance trying to strangle a utility pole.

Alvarez released him and Dixie drew the air gratefully back into the whole of his lungs. Alvarez held up a finger and Miguel hopped to it and produced a bottle of Tequila and a couple of glasses. Dixie shook his head and waved it away.

'I forgot, you don't drink,' Alvarez said and got Miguel to pour him a glass of water.

'We've got a small problem, Enrico,' Dixie said, sipping his drink, wishing it was Tequila or even a beer, anything with some alcohol.

Alvarez smiled and opened his hands wide. It hadn't crossed his mind yet that Dixie might be suggesting he could be that problem. 'We're happy to help, whatever it is.'

Dixie swallowed nervously. 'A three million dollar problem . . .' he said.

The room was suddenly very quiet, the only sound a rhythmic lip-smacking as Miguel chewed gum with his mouth open.

'Ah,' Alvarez said, nodding mechanically as the implications began to sink in. The smile had faded although it hadn't mutated into anger yet.

Dixie took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. 'Somebody hijacked our people at a gas station. The woman you gave the money to has disappeared. With the money.'

The last remnants of Alvarez's smile had disappeared. 'And you were wondering if I'—he touched his chest—'know anything about that?'

Dixie cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He felt as if his skin were two sizes too small. Alvarez watched him, his eyes bright and mean, his breath exiting noisily through his nostrils as his anger started to build.

'Is that what you are asking?' Alvarez repeated with more of an edge to his voice.

Dixie showed him his palms in apology. 'Absolutely not,' he said and shook his head vigorously. He forced a strained it's all a misunderstanding smile onto his face, although he knew it only made him look as if he was constipated. 'We just want to start at the beginning and take it from there. Can you tell me exactly what happened?'

Alvarez raised a single eyebrow and looked at Miguel. They gave each other a he serious? look. 'What about that ret . . . I mean Ricardo? He was there. Has he disappeared too?'

No, much to Chico's regret.

'No, he was in the bathroom at the time,' Dixie said.

Alvarez grinned at that and made a gesture with his hand as if he was shaking a charity collection can. Miguel sniggered from the other side of the room. Ricardo's washroom habits were obviously well known. 'And the other guy?'

Dixie shrugged in a resigned, you can't get the staff way. 'Somebody laid him out with a baseball bat. When Ricardo came back from the bathroom, the woman, the car and the money were gone. That's all we know.'

Dixie swallowed. His throat was dry and scratchy. He picked up his glass but it was empty. He wished he'd saved some for now, even if it was only water. Nobody offered him a top-up.

Alvarez gave a small shrug of agreement, one employer to another, as if to say such are the trials and tribulations of your everyday drug dealer.

'They gave us the merchandise, we gave them the cash and they left. I assumed they were driving straight back to you or Chico or whoever.' He gave a dismissive flick of the hand and leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes drilling into Dixie, daring him to contradict him.

Dixie wasn't sure what to say. He options were, one, say okay, great, thanks for that and get up and go, or, two, say I think you're a lying wetback bastard and see where that led.

Alvarez took the decision out of his hands. He leaned forward suddenly and slammed his open hand on the desk, rattling the glasses and making everyone in the room jump. Dixie braced himself in his chair, ready in case Alvarez launched himself across the desk at him.

Instead, his face split into a massive grin. 'Miguel, make yourself useful and get us another drink,' Alvarez shouted with a wave of his arm.

Dixie relaxed his shoulders and noticed he was holding his breath. He let out a slow exhale and grinned back. It seemed the right thing to do although he had no idea what he was grinning about.

'Luckily for you, we're not as stupid as you think we are,' Alvarez said, getting up and walking around to Dixie's side of the desk. 'Or as stupid as you are.' He jabbed Dixie hard on the shoulder with a meaty finger.

Dixie sighed and put the rest of the water on the desk and waited for him to continue.

'We put a GPS tracking device in the lining of the case containing the money. Simple, eh?'

The look of expectation on Alvarez's face made Dixie think he was expected to clap or cheer. He nodded instead. That was good to know. The thing that he wasn't so happy about was why had Alvarez done it? So that he could send his men after the money later?

Alvarez still had the grin plastered all over his big face. He drained his drink and swirled the ice cubes in the bottom of the glass. He was enjoying the fact that Dixie looked an idiot. Behind him, Miguel was smirking too.

'Have you got a Smartphone?' Alvarez asked.

Dixie got his phone out of his pocket. Alvarez turned to Miguel.

'Miguel, have you got that number?'

Miguel fished a slip of paper out of his wallet, unfolded it and passed it over. Alvarez leaned over Dixie's shoulder and laid it on the desk in front of him. Dixie smoothed it out.

'Put that number into your phone,' Alvarez said, tapping the paper with his finger 'and don't call it money.'

He slapped Dixie on the shoulder and roared with laughter. Miguel laughed too. Dixie would have laughed if he hadn't been the butt of the joke. Crispy didn't get it. He had a look that was a mix of confusion and suspicion that people get when they're not sure if they're the butt of a joke. Dixie sat and waited until Alvarez stopped laughing. In the scheme of things, he felt he'd got off pretty lightly if all he had to worry about was this beaner drug dealer laughing at him.

They'd all see who was the stupid one soon enough.

'It's simple,' Alvarez carried on, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 'You call the number; it sends you a text message back with a link. Click the link and it displays a map on your screen showing the location,' He sounded like he'd invented it himself.

Dixie didn't like to show it but he was impressed. 'Really?' he said.

'Yeah, really,' Alvarez said, 'and it only costs about a hundred bucks. Tell Chico he should get his ass into the twenty-first century. And tell him not to be such a tightwad.' He laughed some more but then he grabbed the back of Dixie's chair and spun it around. Dixie started to get up but Alvarez pushed him back down and pointed his finger directly at the middle of Dixie's face. 'But I don't want him getting any ideas about putting one of those things in my merchandise.'

Heaven forbid. Dixie thought it sounded a good idea if Alvarez was going to put one in with the money, but he decided to keep that to himself.

'Now ring the number,' Alvarez said, spinning Dixie around to face the desk again.

Dixie rang the number and, sure enough, a text message pinged back. He clicked the link and a map opened up on his screen. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the location.

Alvarez took the smile as confirmation of his own good sense and planning.

'There's your money,' Alvarez said, leaning over and tapping Dixie's phone screen. 'Now all you have to do is go get it, make sure it's not sitting in one of my'—he pointed at his chest—'warehouses like Chico thinks, and everyone's happy.'

It seemed to Dixie that Alvarez was putting a bit too much faith in the technology. He was ignoring the human element. Dixie didn't want to be negative, but what Alvarez seemed to be overlooking in his enthusiasm was that what he was actually looking at on his phone was a map showing the location of the tracker—and that wasn't the same thing as the money. Not by a long shot. The thought set off a nasty niggling doubt in the back of his mind.

Alvarez straightened up and put a massive hand on Dixie's shoulder and gave it a bone-crushing squeeze. 'And you can tell that old bastard Chico there's no hard feelings because he thought I cheated him.'


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