The Night the Rich Men Burned Read Online Free PDF

fight, when you tell the story that way. Almost makes Holmes sound harmless. Like he was the victim here. Marty doesn’t care. Wouldn’t care if Holmes was chained upside down to a wall when they got there, naked as the day he was born. He wants to know that the message was properly delivered.
    ‘Tell me what happened. Details, boys, details.’ Marty’s sitting back in his chair, looking up at them with that plastic grin. His brother looks depressed, but that seems to be a default setting. The look of the spare wheel.
    ‘We had to smash the door in, like I said,’ Glass is saying with a nod. ‘Searched downstairs but he wasn’t there. Then he came to the top of the stairs. Oliver went up the stairs. Holmes threw himself at Oliver, Oliver dodged. Holmes fell over. Oliver kicked him down the stairs. Bounced right down. We gave him a couple of kicks at the bottom. Told him it was from you. Made sure he knew that we were delivering your message, Marty. He knows. He won’t forget.’
    Marty’s nodding. Sounds like it went well. According to the general plan, anyway. They’re probably putting some gloss on it, but they’re entitled. ‘Anyone see you?’
    Glass is shrugging. ‘Holmes, maybe his wife.’
    ‘Girlfriend,’ Marty’s interrupting.
    ‘Girlfriend, yeah. Don’t think anyone else did. No one else in the house, no one out on the street when we left. We ditched the tops we were wearing as well, so . . .’ he’s saying, trailing off.
    Marty’s nodding. All sounds good. Sounds like they took the right precautions. He’s assuming they wore balaclavas, because common sense says they did. He’s assuming they drove away from the scene, common sense tripping him up and laughing behind his back again. If nobody outside of the Holmes house saw them, they’ll be fine. Nobody inside the house is going to get the police involved.
    ‘Sounds like you did well,’ Marty’s saying. ‘Why don’t you both go out there and enjoy the party. It’s a good one.’ A pause, thinking of a little test. Play games with the dumb kids. ‘What do you think of the club?’ His brother’s giving him a dirty look. Adam knows what Marty thinks of the club, and it’s not an opinion he would put on a poster.
    ‘It’s great Marty, yeah,’ Glass is saying quickly. ‘Great club, great party, can’t wait.’
    Marty’s nodding, still smiling the patented Marty smile. ‘What about you, Silent Bob?’ he’s asking Peterkinney. ‘What do you think of this place?’
    Peterkinney, standing slightly behind Glass, is shrugging. ‘Club’s a bit of a dive,’ he’s saying. Quietly but casually, knowing he’s right and not seeing why anyone would have a problem with his opinion. He’s not important enough to care about, not wrong enough to argue with. Not here to suck up to this pair. ‘Party should be good though. Location doesn’t matter if the party’s good.’
    Adam Jones is frowning from behind his desk, shaking his head slightly. Who wants to hear that casual insult, even if you’ve heard it many times before? That’s nothing compared to Glass. He’s turned right round on the spot and is glaring at Peterkinney. If he gets them thrown out, by God, he won’t be responsible. He won’t. Peterkinney’s this close to blowing it.
    The only person not frowning is Marty. He’s laughing. ‘Brilliant. This place is a shithole. Everyone knows that much. But you’re right; the party is the main thing. People don’t give a shit about location if the girls are good, the music’s loud and the coke is free. Overwhelm the senses, obliterate reality,’ he’s saying, sounding like he’s said that before and is proud of it. There’s a pause as Marty looks at the two of them. Judging them both. He fancies himself a good judge of people. One of his many skills. The shorter one at the front, so eager to please. He’s the desperate one, trying to get into the business. A head full of dreams and nothing else. The one at the back is