Black Butterfly by Mark Gatiss Read Free Book Online Page B

papers. Nearly got the top job, didn’t he?’
    I nodded, intrigued. ‘Yes. He did.’ And indeed, it was Hooplah. Pinched and mean-spirited by reputation, he was a pillar, supporting wall and front porch of the Establishment. And yet there he was, sat at one of Delilah’s chipped tables–apparently in search of oblivion, like me.
    It was hard to make out details as the packed club’s clientele swirled around in my line of sight but I saw the Negroid youth gesticulating and Hooplah angrily pushing him away. Then the scene disappeared as the room was plunged into darkness. A spotlight hit the tiny bandstand and couples staggered into drunken dancing.
    ‘And what you been up to, sir?’ asked Delilah, a mischievous twinkle in her bloodshot orbits. ‘Helping some kiddies across the road? Opening a new ’ospital ward? Or have you been going to the park to chuck Hovis at the ducks?’
    ‘Now, now, Delilah,’ I said, sipping gingerly at the brandy. ‘You’re sounding petulant again.’
    ‘Well,’ she drawled, ‘not like the bloody old days, is it? Stuck behind a desk fiddling with paper-clips. I bet you’d give a year of your life just for a nice juicy hassassination!’
    I shook my head. ‘Time to bring down the curtain, Delilah,’ I said. ‘The party’s over.’
    But scarcely had the words left my lips when I felt a sudden heat on my cheek, and my smeary glass exploded as a 9mm bullet slammed into the bar.

.6.
GOODBYE, PICCADILLY
    I flung myself to the floorboards. Grit and dust choked me and the air was full of cordite. There was a shocked pause and then one of the stringy queens started screaming like a castrato .
    In a ring of suddenly empty tables stood Sir Vyvyan Hooplah, brandishing a Luger. His ruddy face was suffused with a wicked grin and the clouds of hair behind his ears seemed to stand on end. He fired again, further fracturing the mirrored walls. The exotic-looking young man shielded his head with long, slim fingers.
    Delilah reacted with the speed of a panther. A long-in-the-tooth panther, mind you, but still fairly nippy. As I scrambled to my feet, she rolled up her sleeves and prepared to give Hooplah what for.
    ‘Look out! Look out!’ cackled Sir Vyvyan delightedly, loosing off another shot. ‘I’ll take on the lot of you, d’you hear? Haha!’ His face was now almost violet above the white scarf. ‘Never fired a weapon, d’you see? Sat out the war on my sillyold rump. Both wars, in point of fact, but now… Now!’
    ‘All right, mate,’ warned Delilah, approaching stealthily. ‘Time you turned in.’
    ‘Not likely!’ yelled the berserk former politician.
    He fired another bullet and then proceeded to propel himself head-first through the crowd. The Negroid boy reached out and got him by the ankles but the old buffer slid from his grasp and clattered to the floor. Then Hooplah righted himself, galloped towards the lift, dragged back the grille and turned to face the room, a manic glitter in his eyes. ‘See? See!’ he roared. ‘I’m a match for you!’
    The Luger spat fire into the smoky air and the great central chandelier splintered, smashing crystal droplets to the floor like frozen tears.
    The lift chugged into life and Hooplah was gone.
    ‘Stairs!’ I cried. ‘Get to the stairs!’
    Delilah and I tore from the room and onto the Blood Orange ’s ill-lit stairwell. We clattered down two flights, flung open the front door and dashed outside, only to be greeted by the roar of an engine and a great screech of tyres. Two sharp reports, a blur of scarlet and Hooplah was off, careering wildly around parked motors, accelerating south towards Oxford Street.
    I gaped at Delilah. ‘He’s stolen my ruddy car!’
    Delilah heaved a huge sigh, shoulders sagging in defeat. ‘Come on then. I’ll call the rozzers.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’ I bristled. ‘I want my Bentley back!’
    ‘Yeah, but—’
    I looked round swiftly and my heart leaped as I caught sightof the ugly