A Time For Justice Read Online Free PDF

Which is?’
    ‘ Tell you later,’ said McClure as they reached their car. He
leaned for a second on the roof. ‘If this is down to Corelli, then
it shows what an evil bastard he is.’
    ‘ Evil?’ Donaldson laughed briefly. ‘In the last two years
Corelli’s put at least eight of his rivals out of business - that
we know of . Another three are still missing, presumed dead. There’s no
evidence to link him, of course, just hearsay and bar talk. But
they’re down to him and he stays whiter than white. You’ve heard of
the untouchables? He’s fuckin’ totally untouchable.’
    ‘ So who’s doing the killings?’
    ‘ Dunno.’ Donaldson shrugged his shoulders. ‘Someone very good,
someone we don’t even know. Probably the guy who did this one. But
I do know one thing...’
    McClure waited, arms folded.
    ‘ If I was Danny Carver’s English partner, I’d be shitting in
my pants right now.’
    ‘ Why’s that?’
    ‘ We expected both of them to be in that limo so it’s safe to
assume the killer expected the same. He’s only done half a
job.’
    A grunting noise made them turn and look up at the
building.
    A dim light shone behind a curtain on the first
floor.
    ‘ Someone’s up late,’ said Donaldson. He climbed into the
car.
    It was 1.30 a.m.
     
     
    Jane the stripper lay awake on the grubby sheets listening to
Hinksman’s regular deep breathing as he slept beside her. The room,
like the rest of the hotel, was musty and dank-smelling.
    Her top lip throbbed from a cut on the inside where it had
banged against her teeth. Blood seeped into her mouth. She
shuddered at the salty taste. Her right eye was badly swollen and
beginning to blacken; she could hardly open it. That too throbbed -
a slightly different beat to her lip.
    She moved a hand slowly up to her throat, slowly so that she
would not disturb Hinksman, and massaged her Adam’s apple tenderly,
remembering how Hinksman, on reaching his climax, had clamped a
vice-like hand around her windpipe and almost strangled her to
death in an orgasm that was a torrent of violent, uncontrollable, jerking spasms.
    The injuries to her lip and eye were punishments because she
had complained about the near-murder.
    When he knocked her around the room - a cold, clinical assault
she thought he got even more pleasure from the violence than from
the sex. His mad eyes had really been shining.
    Hinksman moved onto his back. His mouth fell open. He snored.
Crazy American bastard, she thought.
    Lying there, motionless and taut, she wondered if she would be
able to get out of bed, dress herself and slide out of the room
without waking him up. He’d told her that he wanted her to be there
in the morning - so she could imagine what his reaction would be to
find her fleeing the place: a worse beating than before. Yet to be
there in the morning would no doubt entail another beating
too.
    She squinted sideways at him through her good eye. He seemed
well gone. She moved slightly. He groaned. She went rigid again. He
didn’t wake.
    From somewhere down in the bowels of the hotel a phone started
ringing.
    ‘ Fuck,’ she cursed under her breath and heaved a deep sigh.
Until it stopped there was no point trying anything. Escape would
have to wait. She glanced at her watch - 2 a.m.
    The phone seemed to ring for ever. Then there was the mumble
of a voice followed by footsteps on the stairs, getting closer to
Hinksman’s room. Jane fully expected them to pass. They didn’t.
There was a light knock on the door.
    Hinksman continued to snore.
    The knocking persisted, growing louder. Hinksman was not
disturbed.
    In the end Jane could tolerate it no longer. She tugged a
sheet off the bed, wrapped it round herself and answered the
door.
    An unshaven man wearing pyjamas and a stained dressing-gown
stood there. Heavy bags hung beneath his bloodshot eyes. It was the
hotel proprietor, Pepe Paglia.
    ‘ Oh,’ he said, surprised at seeing her. ‘I want him.’ He
pointed with a