By the time we got to Holland Park, the rain was near torrential. I asked,
‘What about the actress?’
‘She’ll sleep till noon.’
‘You sure?’
‘I made sure. Drive up to the garage.’
I did.
We got out and inside, Jordan produced rain slickers and said,
‘Get the wheelbarrow.’
Then we hauled Kerrkovian and the punk into the garage.
The punk was starting to come round. Jordan said,
‘Remove everything from their pockets.’
From Kerrkovian, I took
A Sig Sauer .45
Wallet
Cigarettes
Stiletto blade and
A piece of paper with a phone number.
It was Gant’s.
From the punk, I got
A Browning
Thick wad of money
Polo mints
Condoms
Cocaine.
Jordan filled a bucket of water and threw it over the punk.
He spluttered, choked, then slowly opened his eyes. It must have been nightmarish. Two figures in long wax coats, the storm and a corpse. He said,
‘You broke me nose.’
Jordan said, ‘Stand up, you’ve work to do.’
He got shakily to his feet, whined,
‘What’s going on?’
Jordan said, ‘Shut up and you might live.’
He shut up.
I asked, ‘Where are we going to put Kerrkovian?’
‘The elm tree, where he placed your friend.’
Jordan reached onto a back shelf, produced a bottle of brandy, handed it to me. I drank deep and offered it to the punk.
He was shaking so bad he could hardly hold it. Brandy ran down his front. I said,
‘Use both hands.’
It made him gag but he got it down. I passed the bottle to Jordan, who took a small sip. The punk looked to me, said,
‘Don’t let him kill me, Mr Mitchell.’
Mister!
I said, ‘Course not.’
Jordan said, ‘Help me get the wire out of his throat.’
We turned Kerrkovian over, his head was rolling, the teeth had bit clean through his lower lip. The punk went,
‘Arg... h... h,’
and threw up.
The wire had two wooden handles. They looked well worn. I didn’t want to think about that. We took a handle each and pulled. It came clear but far from clean. Jordan cleaned it on the dead man’s suit. Then he straightened up, cleared his throat and spat on him. He said,
‘Lift.’
And we threw the body in the barrow. Jordan took the Sig Sauer, hefted it. I said,
‘That’s the closest thing to a non-jam automatic you’ll get.’
He pointed it loosely at the punk, said,
‘Push that barrow.’
The storm had increased. I could feel the rain even through the slicker. The punk had a tough task pushing the barrow but eventually we got to the elm tree. Jordan threw a shovel on the ground, said,
‘Get digging.’
The punk was wiping blood and mucus from his ruined nose, asked,
‘By myself?’
‘Do it.’
The mud made his job a little easier, save he kept slipping.
Jordan handed me a flask, I drank like a demented thing.
Finally, the grave was dug. Jordan leant over the barrow, took a pair of pliers from his coat, cut off Kerrkovian’s little finger.
The punk whimpered and I said,
‘Jesus Christ!’
The crack of the bone was like a pistol shot. Then he tilted the barrow and the body tumbled in. The sound of it hitting was like a splash in hell. Jordan handed me the Sig Sauer.
I said,
‘What?’
Jordan looked right into my eyes, said,
‘I’ve noticed your speech is polluted with Americanisms so... it’s your call.’
The punk realised what was going down, pleaded,
‘Aw God, Mr Mitchell, I won’t say nuffink.’
I shot him in the forehead. He wavered for a moment then fell into the hole. Jordan picked up the shovel, began to fill the grave. I didn’t move, just stood there, rain teaming down, the Sig hanging loose at my side.
Jordan straightened up, said,
‘Let’s get a cup of tea.’
At the kitchen table, as Jordan made tea, I said,
‘Mickey Spillane always had his characters drink whiskey as he couldn’t spell cognac.’
He didn’t answer.
I didn’t care.
He put two steaming mugs of tea down and asked,
‘A biscuit?’
‘Are they Rich Tea?’
‘Only Mikado.’
‘I’ll pass then.’
He got a bottle of Glenlivet from under the sink and I asked,
‘What, you have bottles stashed everywhere?’
‘Not just bottles.’
‘Oh.’
He unscrewed the cap and dolloped the booze into the tea.
I supped mine. It tasted like tea with whisky added.
I rolled a cig and offered it to him. He took it and I got to work on another. Lit up and we’d a cloud of smoke in jig time. I said,
‘Jordan, how’d you get the name? It’s not anything to do with baseball... is it?’
He sneered, said,
‘My father was born on the bank of the Jordan.’
‘I thought you were Hungarian.’
‘We moved.’
‘Did you ever hear the quotation:
“I am filled with coffins
like an old cemetery”?’
He stubbed out the butt, said,
‘It’s not over yet.’
‘I’m afraid you’re right.’
I stood up, said,
‘I have to get some kip.’
‘You’ll need it.’
Acts Concluding
Jordan sent the severed finger to Gant,
Beautifully wrapped,
Gold box
Brittle tissue paper
Red velvet bow.
Said to me, ‘The moving finger having writ...’
I said, ‘You’re one sick fucker.’
I got back on line with Aisling. She demurred at first, made me sweat it, then agreed. We met at the Sun and Splendour on Portobello... I’d bought new shoes. JP Tods, the real thing. Those suckers are expensive but wow, are your feet very grateful.
Tan colour, I was wearing the Gap khaki with them, a cream sweatshirt and the Gucci jacket. Looked good enough to eat.
Aisling was wearing a killer black dress. I said,
‘Killer dress.’
She smiled. Things were looking hopeful. She said,
‘You’re not too bad yourself.’
‘Do you like the shoes?’
‘Bally?’
‘No.’
‘Imitation?’
‘Hardly.’
‘Oh sorry, I forgot you’re a man of discernment and taste.’
‘Isn’t that from “Sympathy for the Devil”?’
‘I dunno.’
‘Before your time, I guess.’
She ignored that, asked,
‘Where are we going?’
I said, ‘Fancy dinner?’
‘I fancy you, more’s the Irish’d pity.’
The thing with the Irish is, they sure can talk and boy, can they talk well. But what on earth are they talking about?
Fuck knows.
She said,
‘Here’s a thought, let’s rent a vid, order pizza and you can discover what’s under a killer dress.’
‘Won’t it look odd here on the street?’
We went to her place. The minute we got in, she was on me.
Hips grinding, mouth fastened like hope. After we’d done, I gasped,
‘What about the pizza?’
Later we watched ‘Three Colours Red’. I’m not sure I entirely got it. Aisling cried through most of it. I hate fuckin’ subtitles. She asked,