Sharky’s hand was shaking, his eyes were fogged with pain. He saw the Chin Jump to his feet and be pointed the bulky flare pistol at him and fired. The flare spiralled out of the short barrel with a chunk. The Chin twisted as he fired and the blazing flare streaked across his chest, scorching his shirt, and ripped into the valve of one of the gas tanks. The nozzle blew off, releasing a flood of gasoline. The gas hit the blazing flare and burst into flames. The Chin, distracted by the sudden fire, turned for an instant and as he did Sharky fired again. The second flare bit the Chin in the chest, shattered his ribs and lodged there, knocking him backwards to the railing. He floundered there with the phosphorous flare shell sizzling in his chest and then plunged backwards into the lake. Sharky looked down into the dark water at the flare, still burning fiercely, its bubbles boiling to the surface, bursting into puffs of acrid smoke, as the Chin sank deeper into the lake, the glowing shell growing smaller and smaller.
A moment later the tank went.
The explosion knocked Sharky halfway across the deck. A ball of fire roared out of the ruptured tank and swept up into the mast and furled sails of the junk. The sails burst into flames.
Sharky ran from one side of the junk to the other, looking over the side. The motor launch was lashed to a floating pier.
The keys. Fat Boy had to have them. He raced to the cabin and leaped down the stairs. Kershman was still lying on his back, his crazed eyes staring at the ceiling. Sharky ran the fingers of his good hand through the pockets and found not one but two sets of keys.
The other gas tank blew up. Fire spewed out along the deck and poured through the hatchway. Sharky ran down through the main cabin and up the bow hatchway. He went over the side and dropped down to the pier.
The junk was burning like a piece of scrap paper. Bits of flaming sailcloth drifted out over Sharky’s head and hissed into the lake. He tried the keys and finally found one that fitted and cranked up the launch, jamming the throttle forward and twisting the wheel away from the blazing junk. The launch roared out into the lake, tearing the pier to pieces as it went.
Sharky did not look back. He flipped on the night lights and headed off into the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The high energy from the fight and the cold wind biting at him kept him alert. He found the main body of the lake and drove maniacally down its winding byways, keeping in the centre of the lake to avoid debris along the shoreline. It was almost an hour before he saw the green light blinking on the end of the marina dock.
He pulled alongside and got out, tying the front of the launch down. It was easy to find Fat Boy’s car, at that time of the. year there were only half a dozen cars in the lot. He cranked it up and sat huddled in the front seat. A wave of dizziness shook him. Hell, he thought, I’ve come this far, don’t let me pass out now. It passed and he flipped on the heater switch, slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The car screamed out of the lot.
He drove the seventy miles back to Atlanta in less than an hour.
All the lights in the house seemed to be on. Livingston had the front door open and was standing just inside it, his gun out, before Sharky got out of the car.
‘Hold it right there,’ he yelled.
‘It’s me — Sharky.’
‘Sharky! Goddammit to hell, where you been? Where’s The Nosh? What —,
Sharky reeled into the light from the doorway and Livingston swallowed the rest of the sentence.
‘Jesus Christ, what happened to you?’
‘You’re not gonna believe me when I tell you. Is she all right?’
‘Sure she’s all r……
Sharky stormed past him and into the house. Domino was coming out of the bedroom, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep.
‘Oh, thank God,’ she said and then her face registered the shock as she saw his burned-out eyes blazing with pain and fury, his cheeks mottled with a two-day growth of beard, his shoulder ravaged and bleeding, the torn edge of a bloody rag hanging from his fist.
He stood in front of her, his body shaking from hypertension, fatigue, and anger.
Livingston kicked the door shut and put away his gun.
‘What the hell happened, Shark?’ he asked.
‘The Nosh is dead,’ Sharky said. ‘They got him the same way they got Tiffany. Sawed-off shotgun...’
‘1 gotta call Friscoe right now. They been lookin’ for you two all night.’
‘Don’t call anybody yet.’
‘Where have you been?’ Domino said. Tears were building up in her eyes.
‘Where have I been? I’ll tell you where I’ve been, lady. My best friend was ambushed. I been beat up, kidnapped, hauled out to a goddamn Chinese junk in the middle of the lake, had my finger chopped off by three wildass China- men. I’ve killed four people, blown up a boat, stolen a car. Shit, I’ve had a great night! And you know why? Because they want you, that’s why.’
His eyes danced crazily in his head.
‘We’ve got to get you to a hospital,’ she said.
‘A hospital. Shit, I don’t need a hospital. I need answers. Who do you know has a Chinese junk? Who do you know has Oriental assassins doing his dirty work? Who do you know digs Chinese orgies? Your pal, Confucius, that’s who. You lied to me. Told me the bastard went to Europe. Why? Don’t you see it? He’s the one behind it all, the one who’s trying to kill you!’
He ripped the bloody bandage off his hand and held it out in front of her, the burned stump of his finger a foot from her eyes.
‘Look at it. That’s what they did to me.’
She moaned and turned her face to the wall. He grabbed her by the shoulder and whirled her around. ‘Look at it. Don’t turn your face away from me. That’s what your life cost. That and a little guy who never hurt anybody in his life ended up on a stinking tenement floor with his face blown off. And Tiffany, what about her?’
‘Please stop,’ she cried.
‘Me stop? These are the bastards you’re protecting.’
‘Slow down, Shark,’ Livingston said, moving closer to him.
He turned to his partner and said, ‘The crazy thing is, we had it figured right, Arch. We were right on it. Scardi, the rip-off in Italy, Scardi’s connection here. We had it by the ass.’ Then he turned back to Domino. ‘And we would’ve tied it up if you hadn’t lied to me.’
‘No.’
‘Bullshit. You told me that creep went to Europe, that he couldn’t have had anything to do with It. If you had given me his name, levelled with me, The Nosh would be alive now. We could have taken the son of a bitch last night. But I trusted you. You told me. . . I believed you. Should have known better. Should have. . . Goddammit, are you so much in love with him that you’re willing to —,
His fury exploded and he lashed out at her with the back of his good hand, slashing her across the face with such force that it knocked her back against the wall. Livingston grabbed his arm.
‘C’mon, pal, you’re acting like a jealous lover, for Christ’s sake.’
Sharky leaned against him. His hand was throbbing and he had a splitting headache. Was that it, was he jealous? He shook his head violently.
‘No, nothing like that, nothing like that. Too many lies. Nobody’s what they seem. All lies!’
‘Shark, I gotta get you down. You need —‘
‘I need Scardi. And the motherless son of a bitch that brought Scardi in. I want them and if we can’t take them legally, I’m gonna rip that cocksucker’s heart out with my bare hands. I need to get even!’
He had turned back to Domino, glaring at her. Here was a Sharky she had never seen before. Gone was the roguish smile, the rough charm. In its place was a raw power that frightened her. Stripped of any elegance, finesse, cleverness, or caution
He leaned against the wall, his knees shaking, turning to mud, his body wracked with chills, his mind teetering on the edge of insanity and bent on destruction, his strength coming from an almost carnal need for vengeance. The room began to swim around him.