Part 41 (2/2)

'n.o.body,' said Buchanan mildly. 'But I don't really think you want to listen to a bout of hysterics and it's already taking me all my time to keep this lady from going completely off the rails. If you'll take my advice--'

'Shut it! Keep your f.u.c.king advice to yourself, you'll be needing it more than me.'

'Could Poppy at least have a gla.s.s of water?' Buchanan persisted, so hopelessly that Fizz knew he was deliberately taking over from her as interlocutor.

'No she f.u.c.king couldn't.' He made the mistake of shouting his reply and regretted it visibly. 'f.u.c.k,' he said, and pointed the gun at Poppy. 'You, b.i.t.c.h. Get me some painkillers.'

Poppy burst into tears again and wailed that she didn't have any, she didn't use them, she had an ulcer, she'd just moved in, and a bunch of other extraneous information that only made the centurion all the madder. He told her to 'shut it' twice in a dampened tone but finally had to shout it, which was just about the last straw.

'Just shut it, the lot of you.' He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his big jaw hanging like a ham.

He looked haggard but the gun was still pointed unwaveringly at Buchanan's chest.

Fizz felt the sweat break out of her the instant the brainwave hit her. She knew for a certainty that she would be up to her eyebrows in the s.h.i.+t if she tried and failed, and that scared the breath from her body. If she had not been totally certain that they were all about to die she wouldn't have had the audacity -the desperation -to

grasp at what was only a single, very fragile straw.

She lifted an arm to wipe the sweat out of her eyes with her sleeve and the movement caught the centurion's eye.

Wordlessly, she pointed at the plastic coat lying at his feet where it had fallen as she dived for cover.

He frowned down at it and then back at her face.

'What?' 257. 'Aspirins,' Fizz croaked. She knew immediately that she'd said the wrong thing. If she'd said 'painkillers' she might have got away with it but now, if he noticed that they weren't aspirins, he'd realise what she was up to and there would be repercussions. Painful, if not fatal repercussions.

Her brain had already predicted every possible eventuality -including Buchanan getting himself shot trying to save her -in the few seconds it took for the centurion to slide the coat towards him with his foot. Luckily it was the right way up for him to see the aspirin bottle through the transparent plastic. Keeping the gun level he stooped down and closed his hand round it.

Fizz couldn't watch. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest so that he wouldn't see her s.h.i.+vering. She heard the rattle of the tablets as they were tipped out of their container.

She heard an unexpected gurgle of liquid, and then recognised it as coming from the whisky bottle. Her teeth started to chatter.

When she finally got her eyes open everything looked the same as when she had shut them except that Buchanan was now looking at her as if he was momentarily expecting her to pitch forward on her face. The fear of him doing something silly, at this stage in the game, forced her, while the centurion was pinching his nose, to give her head a tiny shake and look pointedly at the bottle of pills. It was lying on its side on the arm of the centurion's chair and he hadn't bothered to replace the cap, which implied he was intending to have more if he needed them.

Fizz wondered how many he had taken. She was pretty sure the nurse had said two would knock Mr Menzies out for twelve hours, but even if the centurion had taken just one there was a chance it would slow his reflexes a bit.

Whatever happened, they were going to have to make their move against him soon since his boss was bound to arrive in the next few minutes.

After waiting a minute or two, she tried wiping her brow 258. with her sleeve again and, this time, he didn't swing round to look at her. She couldn't see his eyes properly because he held them slitted anyway and, in profile, she wasn't sure how alert they were. But then, little by microscopic little, he started to sag sideways against the arm of the chair and, a moment later, the gun slid from his flaccid fingers.

In a blur of movement, Buchanan had it in his hand and was standing over the centurion. He put a hand on the man's shoulder and gave him a small shove and they all watched, unbelievingly, as the big guy slouched back in his little nest and let his jaw thud to his chest.

Buchanan came over to Fizz and picked her up by the elbows and wiped the sweat -it must have been sweat from her eyes with his thumb.

'What were they?' he asked.

'The sleeping pills the nurse took away from Mr Menzies.

She left them in her coat pocket. I felt the bottle there but I didn't register what it was till he asked for painkillers. How many did he take?'

'At least four.' He looked at her carefully and then urged her forward with an arm round her shoulders. 'OK. Get the h.e.l.l out of here. Here are the car keys. You and Poppy can wait there while I immobilise this guy and phone the police.'

'I'll help you,' Fizz said, not totally in favour of the splitting-up scenario, but he just shook his head and got Poppy on her feet.

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