How a Gunman Says Goodbye Read Online Free PDF Page A

now. If Spikey had anything resembling a brain in his head, he’d have turned down their offer and gone looking for the better offer himself. Nope, he took the quick profit. No ambition. No initiative. That’s why he’ll never get anywhere.
    ‘Do we have to use a gun?’ Clueless is asking.
    ‘If he has a gun and we don’t, we’re fucked. Even two to one. This guy’s a professional, and we’re not. We have to do this right. So that we can show Shug that we know how.’
    Mark Garvey. Nasty piece of work. Sells guns, though, everyone knows it. Sells to some of the worst people. Seems to be able to keep himself off the police radar, God alone knows how. Must be one lucky bastard, because he’s in it up to his armpits. Robbers, gunmen, dealers, pimps – the whole nine yards. Some people say he shut up a couple of his own suppliers before they had the chance to drop him in it. Might be bullshit. There’s a lot of it about. Scott knows where he lives, or at least where he used to live. If he’s moved, then they’re about to wake up the wrong guy.
    Knocking on another door. A nicer area this time. The door’s opening. Attractive woman in her thirties, short nightdress.
    ‘Erm, we’re looking for Mark Garvey,’ Scott’s saying. A light’s gone on behind her. Hmm, maybe not quite so attractive now. Bottle-blonde, crow’s feet, not the best skin. Would still look good with a bit of make-up on.
    The woman’s gone. Garvey’s standing in the doorway now, frowning. Early fifties, bottle-brown hair, trying to look young for the wife, no doubt. Hard to keep up with a second marriage.
    ‘What do you want?’ Garvey’s asking. Looking at Scott, paying Clueless no attention. At a glance, he knows who matters here.
    ‘We need a weapon,’ Scott’s saying quietly. Maybe Garvey doesn’t tell the little wife everything. ‘Anything usable will do us.’
    ‘Will it now? Good for you. I think you got the wrong address.’ He’s moving to close the door.
    ‘I think we got the right address,’ Scott’s saying, sticking his foot in the jamb. ‘I know you don’t sell to strangers. Fair enough. I have an organization behind me. I can either pay you cash or set up a good deal on gear. Your choice. This could become a standing arrangement.’
    ‘No, it couldn’t,’ Garvey’s saying. ‘Now get your foot out of my door before I lose my rag.’
    ‘We’re in a hurry here. Helping us out won’t be forgotten.’
    ‘You listen to me,’ Garvey’s saying, leaning forward aggressively. He’s not a big man, but the movement does the trick. Scott’s pulled his foot away. ‘If you’re in a hurry for a piece and you got an organization behind you, then you go to the organization. That’s what it’s there for. You don’t go waking me up in the middle of the fucking night, understood?’ He’s closed the door. Not with a slam – that might be heard by the neighbours, and a guy like Garvey doesn’t want the neighbours knowing he’s had visitors.
    Plodding the streets again. They’ve tried two more dealers. Ignored by one, door shut on them by the other. Scott doesn’t know any others. The old gang probably have something, but he’s not so close that they’d give it to him. They protect their valuables jealously. He could go to Shug. Would probably get a gun from him. But that would render the whole thing pointless. Shug would almost certainly send someone else round to do the job. Then they’d only get credit for reporting it. Credit doesn’t go far.
    Plodding back to the flat, Clueless complaining. He’s been no bloody use. They’re back where they started, and Scott’s thinking hard. Trying to work out how you bring down a killer like Frank MacLeod. How two men stop one man and his gun. This is the initiative that matters.

5
    Doing the rounds. Nothing special, just putting in an appearance. It matters. People need to see that you’re active, that you’re keeping an eye on them. Puts a little pressure on.