‘No, Col, you don’t have to do this.’
‘I must.’
He steadied the gun, pointed it at Zalinskas.
‘No, think about this.’
‘I’m sorry, Gus.’
He lowered his eye, stared down the barrel at Zalinskas.
‘No, Col! No!’ I yelled at him.
I couldn’t let him do it. I grabbed for the gun, held the barrel tight. He wrestled me for the firearm. ‘Leave it, Col.’
‘No it can’t be left.’
I heard Nadja and the others screaming, everything blurred as they ran for the doors. I saw the pug hobbling down the fire escape, and then, the gun went off.
The sound of the shotgun echoed round the room, followed fast by the noise of breaking glass.
I fell back with the fierce recoil. Landed on the floor where Zalinskas curled in fear. Nadja and Cardownie were already through the door on the fire escape.
I saw Col take aim at Zalinskas for a second time.
‘No, Col… put it down.’
‘Get out of the way, Gus.’
‘No…’
As I waited for the second shot to come down the barrel, Col suddenly lunged forward, pushed from behind by the wolf as it leapt through the shattered cage.
The shotgun went flying as Col crashed face first into the ground. By instinct I raised the Glock, for a second I put the wolf in my sights, I squeezed the trigger. The bullet connected with the wall behind.
‘No!’ yelled Zalinskas. He jumped to his feet and I saw a flash of red, like paint spilling, as the wolf clamped its jaws into his neck.
The wolf tore and tore, pulling out the carotid arteries, ripping the flesh. I was transfixed, unable to remove my eyes. I felt the Glock slip from my hand.
As the second round of the shotgun went off, I snapped back to reality.
‘No!’ I turned away. Col lay propped against the wall, the gun barrel in his mouth, the back of his head blown out.
‘Oh Jesus Christ, Col… no.’
67
The wolf’s snarling and the sound of ripping flesh helped me gather myself.
I closed the doors behind me as I stepped onto the balcony, then descended the fire escape. In the ground behind the casino, the pug tried to squeeze through the fence, he was too big, I forced him out of my way.
‘Move it,’ I yelled.
He toppled over, whimpering like a beaten dog. As I ran for the side street, I got tangled in some bramble bushes. They caught my feet and dropped me to the road. As I tried to raise myself, my guts heaved, I threw up. I retched and retched, couldn’t seem to stop, and then I caught sight of Cardownie and Nadja. They were arguing; Cardownie refusing to let her get into his car.
‘It’s over for both of them,’ I thought. ‘I’ll make sure of that.’
I found my feet and managed to keep the rest of my stomach’s contents in place as I turned on to George Street. I tried to put as much distance as possible between myself and the sight I had just witnessed, but my legs trembled.
I stumbled to a bench, dropped like a stone, and dialled the filth.
‘Lothian and Borders Police.’
I got them to connect me with Fitz.
‘I’m paying my dues,’ I said.
‘What? Who is this?’
He played a role, I knew it. ‘An old friend. There’s a casino owner on George Street. Let’s just say someone’s taken a bite out of him.’
‘And who would this person be?’
‘His name’s Zalinskas. I believe he’s known to police. Is that the expression?’
‘Yes. Yes… but.’
‘No. No more, if you hurry, you might find a witness out the back. But you better take a tranquilliser gun, otherwise it will get messy.’
‘Ah, now…’
‘Goodbye, Fitz. Oh and good luck with that promotion. Don’t forget who your friends are.’
I hung up.
Starting to walk again I felt the strength returning to my legs. I made it all the way to Broughton Street where I stepped into an Internet cafe.
Ordered a coffee and connected to the net.
In my webmail, I opened an email I’d sent myself earlier from Hod’s computer. Clicked on forward. Keyed in the e-address of my old boss at the paper. In the subject line I tapped in one word: Exclusive.
‘No one lies better than a hack, Cardownie,’ I said to myself, as I forwarded Billy’s footage to Rasher.
I sat back and sipped my coffee. From my window seat, the city went by, oblivious to the momentous events of a few streets away.
Inside ten minutes, police sirens began to wail.
I drained my cup, went outside.
On the street, I took out my mobile phone and dialled Debs.
It rang for an age, seemed like for ever, then: ‘Hello.’
‘Hello, Deborah… it’s me.’
‘Gus…’
‘Did you get the package I sent?’
‘What the hell is it, some kind of sick joke?’
‘No,’ I started to smile, it felt so good to hear her voice, ‘not at all. For once, I’m deadly serious. So, how about it?’
‘How about what?’
‘You and me. Do you fancy a trip to Ireland?’
‘ Ireland… what for?’
‘To lay a lost soul to rest.’