“That’s her in the blonde hair, cheap leather coat.”
“Go,” I said and nodded to Dex.
The place was crowded as we’d anticipated. Lisa took a dress from the rail. Mrs Baldwin had selected a cardigan and she was carrying the distinctive green bag. They disappeared into the changing rooms. A few moments lapsed and Mrs Baldwin emerged carrying only the cardigan. Then Lisa, with her green bag, took the escalator to furnishings.
I went after her.
Dex was on the ground floor to follow Mrs Baldwin. We were on the street and going left in under five minutes. The green bag was now in a Selfridges hold-all.
At Bond Street tube station, I said to Lisa, “I’ll hang on to the money... then tonight... if it’s all clear... I’ll meet you at my place. About 7, like that.”
She gave me a long look, said, “You wouldn’t skip on us now, would you precious?”
“And leave me home in Clapham... an Englishman’s castle and all that shit.”
She touched my cheek with one finger.
“Now all dis near over baby, we go back to sweet loving like before.”
“I can hardly contain myself.”
“You all hurry home now. I be keeping it warm for mah daddy.”
I watched her go. I walked out of the station, hailed a cab.
I had the driver swing by Bonny’s cafe. What did I think... I’d see her at work... and then what? Shovel out a few wedges of cash... what?
I saw smoke from the top of Clapham Rise. Before I could think, the cabby said, “Torched the cafe last night. Had to bring in the fire engines from Streatham to fight the blaze. The owner was trapped in it.”
I choked down hard and as we actually passed, I locked my feet and tried to keep my eyes down. I could smell the smoke. I’ll fuckin’ always smell the smoke.
When we got to my street, I paid the cab, watched him drive off. Then I crossed to Dex’s house... broke a back window and climbed in. Went to the front window and dropped the money at my feet. Said aloud, “Now let’s see who shows up.”
Lisa showed within twenty minutes. A light skip in her walk.
“Looking good,” I thought.
Then ten minutes later, Dex. He stopped outside. A long look towards his house. I whispered, “Come on, come on in you twisted fuck.”
But he didn’t. Turned into my home. “Home is where the treachery is.” As I figured on giving them a little time, I had a wander through Dex’s home. Hotel rooms have more energy. It was: 1. Neat. 2. Antiseptic. 3. Vacant.
Anyone could have lived there or no one. I found a bottle of gin and poured some into a mug. This had a cat’s head on the side, underneath was the logo, “I love pussy.”
“Cute,” I said.
I had vaguely expected to find the browning automatic. Since it disappeared from under my fridge, I expected Dex had it. As was my quota now, I was absolutely wrong.
I checked the money, well I looked at it. Was it all there... probably. I counted a wad at random and it came to ten grand. These were an awful lot of wads. The money was old, near crumpled. I shouted aloud.
“I’m third of a millionaire. Wouldn’t my old dad be surprised.”
Hefting a thick wad, I lash-kicked it across the room. It hit the wall with a light thud and slithered to the floor. I said, “See Bonny, kicked a little your way... OK darling... OK sweetheart...”
A thought pondered into my head. This morning when I’d been running through my plan, Dex had been whistling quietly. One of those annoying things, you know you know it, but you’re fucked if you can put a name to it. As we’d left the house he’d given me a look of what I could now only identify as triumph.
Now I could name it. Elton John’s “Burn Down the Mission”.
And I was relieved I hadn’t found the gun. Oh yeah, I wanted to take him with my bare hands.
An hour passed. I left that money and went across the road. What I felt was “ready.” The house was quiet. I headed for the basement and heard low moans.
“Christ,” I thought, “they’re torturing the poor bastard.”
I’d waited too long.
Lisa was on her knees, giving Baldwin a blow job. His face had that rictus of torment that is total pleasure. His eyes looked on mine. I noticed for the first time his eyes were brown. Wouldn’t Lisa be proud, I’d caught up. He shoved Lisa back.
“What,” she said. “You didn’t come.”
She followed his look and her face twisted.
“Oh Nico... Nico... you weren’t meant to come.”
I said, “Someone’s got to come.”
Baldwin’s leg was still chained. Heat of passion I guess. No sign of Dex.
Baldwin said, “Believe it or not old chummy, I finished with this bitch six years ago. But she hasn’t given up... as you’ve just seen.”
I looked at her, said, “All this to get him back... jeez Lisa... no wonder you knew Rilke so well. Who’d have thought you could care so much... you poor pathetic cow.”
She put her hand out towards him.
“He’s mine, he belongs to me.”
And Baldwin laughed.
Lisa backed away. I swear she was whimpering. God, is there a more devastating sound in the whole world.
Baldwin said to me, “Oscar Wilde, I don’t think I covered him in our lectures. Well, old Oscar said, you’ll appreciate this: ‘A woman will do anything for the man she loves.’”
And paused here for full effect.
“‘Except stop loving him.’”
If he expected a reply, I didn’t have one. He gave an irritated shrug, said, “I haven’t seen the bitch for six years, already she’s on her knees.”
Lisa was walking rapidly towards him, I saw the automatic as she said, “Here’s six, you bastard.”
And put that number of shots into him. His body jerked all over the cot but was held in place by the chain. Then he was still.
She turned to me. Tears streaming down her face. I started towards her and she whispered, “I’m so sorry Nick... you weren’t the worst... just red-neck dumb.”
And she squeezed the trigger:
click
click
click
I said “It jams after six.”
And swung my right fist with all the power I had, added, “What... I could have been a contender!”
It caught her up under the chin and I thought I heard her neck break. She fell back on Baldwin. I moved over to her and she was murmuring, “No more ange...”
“Rabbits maybe,” I said, as gentle as I was able.
I found Dex in the kitchen. With his throat cut. A coffee cup still gripped in his hand. I turned him over to see if his face might tell me something. It told me nothing. At least nothing I wanted to hear. It took me a few moments but eventually my saliva returned and I spat full in his face.
Back at his house I found I hadn’t quite finished my gin. I moved to an armchair and put the money under my feet. Then I moved a bit and rested them on it.
Better.
I sat wondering how difficult it would be to find a Morris Minor. Tax and insurance, probably be sky high for an old car. One thing was certain, the colour: black.
They say you hear a sound in a person’s throat as they die. A death rattle. I didn’t hear Lisa’s, not then. But now, I hear it all the time. And keep looking round, trying to locate it. Fuck, I know what it is... I just don’t know where it’s coming from. I remember a thing Dex told me during our tequila session. It seemed particularly fitting now. He’d sat up till the early morning, glued to the television at the beginning of the Gulf War. As the ferocious bombardment of Baghdad began, he’d shouted, “Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.”
Part three