The Bullet Trick

'Isn’t everyone?'

'Quite right, they’re a popular pastime. Did you see that film…’ He paused as if searching his memory. 'What was it called now? It was by that young American guy, ugly git, total genius… Reservoir Dogs, that’s it.' Montgomery smiled at me. 'You seen it?

Fucking marvellous. They cut a guy’s ear off.'

I stared into his eyes and spoke with as much command as I could muster.

'You won’t cut my ear off.'

The knife regained its pressure and Montgomery leaned in towards me.

'Oh I will, and a lot more besides if I don’t get what’s mine.' He caught me between the legs, cradling my shrinking balls in his hand. 'Not much there but I dare say you’d prefer to hold on to the small portion God granted you.'

We lay there panting, his hand on my vitals, our faces strained, looking like an ugly scene from a very specialist porno movie. There was a slight movement on the right of my peripheral vision. I concentrated my gaze on Montgomery’s and tried to avoid looking towards the not-quite-shut door as it slid slowly open.

Sylvie hadn’t put her shoes back on; she edged silently across the carpet, her gaze on the bed, like a cat stalking a pigeon. I remembered I’d never yet seen a cat get to the kill.

Maybe the thought made my eyes shift towards her after all or maybe the policeman simply felt the atmosphere change, because suddenly Montgomery gasped as if he had felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced towards her. Sylvie kicked the door shut and levelled my gun somewhere near the centre of our huddle.

'Having fun, William?'

For a second I wondered whose side she was on, but then I felt Montgomery’s body tense.

'Not really my idea of a good Saturday night.'

'Hear that you old pervert?' Sylvie moved forward until the gun was squarely aimed at Monty’s torso, still staying far enough away to make it difficult for him to grab her. 'Be a dear and let go of his dick.'

Monty gave the blade another press and I thought he was going to call her bluff. But then Sylvie said, 'Now please.' And maybe he sensed a strain of madness in her voice, because he raised his hands slowly in the air and threw the weapon beyond reach towards the far side of the room. 'Good boy, now kiss him goodbye and get to your feet.'

Monty said, 'You must be joking.'

'Just get off him.'

The policeman eased himself upright. His voice had regained its gentleness.

'It’s not a real gun.'

I stood up holding a hand to my scratched throat, though it was a small wound in a night of pain. 'I’m afraid it is. Real bullets too.'

'We can check if you like.' Sylvie’s voice was light, conversational even. She kept her eyes on Montgomery. 'No? Don’t fancy that idea? Then reach slowly into your pocket and throw your mobile on the bed. Any funny business and I shoot.'

Her dialogue was pure movie gangster, but maybe that appealed to Montgomery because he did as she said.

'William, phone the police.' I looked blankly at her and she said, 'The number’s 110.'

Montgomery started to talk quickly.

'This has nothing to do with you, darling.'

'Don’t worry, I have a feeling William wants to talk to the police as little as you do, but as long as they’re on their way we know you’ll make yourself scarce. When they get here we’ll say it was a simple break-in, unless you want to stick around and tell them different.'

Montgomery looked at Sylvie with a respect that was laced with frustration. I picked up his phone and dialled.

'I understand you want to protect your boyfriend, but he’s not the plaster saint he makes himself out to be.'

He started to lower his hands.

'Any further and I’ll shoot you in the stomach.'

The other end of the line picked up and I started to give the address of the hotel. Sylvie kept the gun level. I tried to think of the German word for emergency, failed and said,

'Schnell bitte.'

Montgomery smiled.

'You know I could take that off you don’t you, darling?'

'I know the safety catch is off, I know that I’ll press the trigger and I know it’ll make one hell of a bang whether I hit anyone or not. You, on the other hand, know fuck-all.'

I said, 'Danke,' and killed the call. 'They’re on their way.'

'Look, I went about this wrong. Your boyfriend’s got something belonging to me.'

Montgomery smiled, still holding his hands up to show he was no threat. 'Thirty-five years on the force,' he took a small step forward. His voice took on a hypnotic tone. 'I tend to get a bit impatient… go in like a bull in a china shop when there’s no need… forget that sometimes softly, softly is better. It means a great deal to me. Sentimental reasons as much as anything else.'

'He’s lying, Sylvie.'

Montgomery’s voice was gentle.

'There could be a lot of money in it for you both.' He took another step. 'A lot of money.'

Sylvie’s eyes locked with Montgomery’s and I realised she still wasn’t quite sober. The policeman took another step and I braced myself to go for the gun. Then Sylvie put her finger on the trigger, and a small smile touched her lips.

'Do you really want to test me?'

Montgomery took a step back and raised his hands a little higher.

'I guess I just did.'

A passing car broke the silence of the street outside. There were no sirens but it was enough to sever the spell. Montgomery turned to me.

'This isn’t the end, Wilson. If I were you I’d be a sensible boy. I’m not going to let up.'

'Are you threatening him?'

'No, love, I’m making him a promise. Until I get what I want your boyfriend’s the walking dead. You’ll never know the day or the hour, but know this, I’ll fucking swing before I’ll let him away with it.'

'You’ve had your say, now scram.' Sylvie was in her element, Bonnie Parker and Patty Hearst all rolled into one. 'I’m going to keep pointing this gun at the door. Anyone walks through who isn’t a member of the Berliner Polizei and they get a bullet in the guts.'

Montgomery hesitated, his gaze shifting between Sylvie and me. He said, 'You better get me what you owe me, Wilson, or you’re a dead man.' Suddenly he smiled. 'Your agent tell you about the TV scout looking for you?' The realisation came before he said it. 'Sorry, chum, you just failed the audition.'

The policeman smiled again but there was a brittleness to the smile that belied the gag.

The door closed quietly behind him, the latch clicking to, mild and gentle as his voice. I sunk onto the bed and put my head in my hands. Sylvie stood, legs apart, keeping her aim steady, looking like a female action hero towards the end of the movie. Her voice was level.

'William, go to the window and tell me when he leaves the building.' I concealed myself behind the curtain and looked down into the street. Sylvie asked, 'What was all that about?'

'My last chance to get on TV.'

'And I thought the dance world was tough. I’m not the prying type, Will, but I think you owe me an explanation.'

'I’ll tell you back at your place.'

'You take a lot for granted, Wilson.' She sighed. 'OK, later.'

Later was fine. By the time later came I’d have made up something that sounded plausible. Or perhaps I’d have left Berlin. Or maybe I’d be lying snug on a satin mattress in a rosewood bed while my mother stroked my forehead and remembered the sweet boy I’d once been.

Outside it was dawn. After a minute or two Montgomery strolled across the road, all hint of menace gone, looking like the kind of man you might turn to for advice, a respectable middle-aged man with a sleep problem who liked to take the air in the early hours. He pulled up the collar on his jacket and glanced back at the hotel. Maybe he saw me, or maybe he just guessed I’d be watching. He made the shape of a gun with his fingers, squeezed back the imaginary trigger and fired right between my eyes. I stepped behind the curtains. When I looked again he was gone.