Part 17 (1/2)

'What makes you say that?'

'You heard what the skinhead said when he took your trainers. That hairball was paying them by letting them keep our stuff. That's hardly the modus of a big shot.'

'OK,' James said. 'He's small-time, but he's still got a gun.'

'He won't kill us in a million years,' Kerry said. 'He's been paid a few hundred quid to scare us, grab the drugs and send a message to Keith Moore. There's a huge difference between that and murdering two kids.'

'Supposing you're right,' James said. 'How do we find this guy?'

'I think there's only one road in and out of this chunk of paradise and we haven't seen him leave. We're looking for a tall, fat drug dealer with tons of curly hair and a beard. I bet one of the sc.u.mbags hanging around here will be able to put a name to a description like that.'

'And we just walk up and they'll tell us?'

Kerry shrugged. 'We'll make some excuse why we need to find him.'

'The thing is,' James said, 'if you've just ripped off KMG for three hundred grand, you won't be hanging around here for long.'

'I know,' Kerry said. 'But he doesn't think KMG will know what's happened until we get into town. He'll be off his guard for the next hour or so.'

'You're serious, aren't you?' James smiled. 'I'm really gonna go chasing after some gun-toting drug dealer in my socks?'

'I think it's worth the risk, but I'm not forcing you. If you're not up for it, we'll head home.'

James thought for a second as he dabbed his b.l.o.o.d.y lip on the bottom of his T-s.h.i.+rt. He didn't fancy their chances. If it had been anyone but Kerry, he would have said no.

'Let's go and get shot,' he said, climbing to his feet and taking his first painful steps since the beating.

They cut around the back of the shops, dodging the snooker club in case anyone inside spotted them. They found a couple of skinny women at the bottom of a staircase and got blank stares when they described the hairball. They got lucky on their second attempt, when Kerry described him to a group of teenagers.

'Was it some kind of heavy metal T-s.h.i.+rt?'

'Yeah,' Kerry said. 'Do you know where we could find him? He dropped his keys outside the snooker club and we picked them up.'

'Sounds like Crazy Joe,' one kid said. 'He lives in Alhambra House. You want to be careful, he's a serious lunatic and he's drugged-up half the time.'

'You know where exactly?' James asked.

'What do I look like?' the kid laughed. 'Directory enquiries? Try the second or third floor.'

'Cheers,' James said.

'Nice socks,' the kid replied.

Alhambra House was the furthermost block. There were twenty flats on each floor, but finding the right one was easier than they expected. Loads were boarded up and most of the others didn't look the part: old-person-style wallpaper in the hallways, or ethnic names written under the doorbells. Joe's flat turned out to be a giveaway: the front door was painted black with a devil's-head knocker and underneath the word Joe's was written in Tippex. They peered through the gla.s.s. There was an Aerosmith poster pinned to the kitchen wall and all the lights were on.

James and Kerry didn't have their lock guns or anything with them. They couldn't get in, so they had to lure Crazy Joe out.

'Check he's at home first,' Kerry said. 'Ring the bell and run.'

James pressed the buzzer and they sprinted to the end of the balcony and hid in the stairwell. Crazy Joe waddled on to his doorstep in his T-s.h.i.+rt and boxers and looked down the balcony. He swore about b.l.o.o.d.y kids and went back inside.

'So now what?' James asked. 'If he's half undressed, he's probably home alone.'

'There might be a girlfriend in there as well.'

'I don't reckon any woman lives in that house,' James said.

'Based on what?' Kerry asked.

'Did you see the filthy sink and cutlery piled up on the draining board?' James asked. 'That's a single man's kitchen if ever I saw one.'

'There's something messed-up about this,' Kerry said. 'You'd think he'd be running or driving some place in a hurry, not sitting around in his underwear.'

'None of this makes any sense,' James said. 'Everything else I've done for KMG has run like clockwork.'

'Joe might have friends nearby,' Kerry said. 'We need to take him down quickly and without making a noise.'

Five minutes later, Crazy Joe emerged from his flat a second time to find James grinning at him.

'I warned you,' Joe sneered.

As Joe lunged for James, Kerry landed her hardest punch into the side of his head. It hit the sweet spot above the eye socket where the skull is thinnest, giving Joe's brain a good rattling. All his muscles went limp and James had to dodge out of the way as he slumped across the balcony.

'Get moving,' Kerry said anxiously, looking at James. 'He'll start coming around in no time and I don't want to have to knock him out twice.'

James stepped over Joe and ran into the flat, checking inside every room to make sure n.o.body else was home. There were pizza boxes and rubbish everywhere. The smell of stale cigarette smoke made his eyes water. Once he knew the flat was empty, he helped Kerry drag the semi-conscious Joe through to the living-room.

'Find something to tie him up with,' Kerry shouted.

James ripped the electric cables out of the back of the video and the satellite box. Joe struggled a bit, but they managed to knot the flex tightly around his wrists and ankles.

'Where's our drugs, Joe?' Kerry asked, bunching her fist in the air above him.

'How old are you guys?' Joe grinned. 'Thirteen, fourteen?'

'Nearly thirteen,' James said.

'I've seen it all now,' Joe said. 'You guys were supposed to get scared and run home to Mummy.'

'Shut it,' Kerry said in a firm voice. 'From now on, you talk when I say so and you better make sure I like the answer. So, for the second time, Joe, where are our drugs?'

'Found 'em,' James said, spotting the two backpacks beside the couch.

He unzipped them, making sure the stuff was still inside.

'Look for the gun, and anything else you don't want him coming after us with,' Kerry said. She kept Joe under control while James searched the flat. The shotgun was inside Joe's leather jacket, hanging up by the front door. James found a pistol and more drugs under the bed. It was cocaine in one-gram bags, identical to what James delivered most nights.

He'd been trained where to look for hidden stuff and an uneven piece of skirting was a dead giveaway. James pulled it off and found two supermarket carrier bags stuffed with more cocaine, and a few thousand pounds in scrunched-up cash. James stuffed the drugs into the carrier bags on top of the money and carried the lot into the living-room.