Cross by Ken Bruen Read Free Book Online Page A

me keep you from better things.'
    He was wiped, looked at me with the face of
a five-year-old boy, said, 'I'm sorry, Jack, I . . .
I'll get right on it.'
    I gave him my phone numbers and when he continued to sit there I said, 'Well, get to it.
You think the solution's going to pop its head round the corner?'
    As he reached the door he said, 'I understand now what they meant.'
    To be rid of him I asked, 'Yeah, what was that?'
    'That you're a hard bollix.'
    He was gone before I could reply.
    The barman came in, began to collect the glasses, asked, 'Get you anything else?'
    'No, I'm good. You know that guy who just left?'
    He wiped the table down, said, 'Heaton?
You'd need to be careful of him.'
    'Because he's a drinker?'
    He gave a short laugh and glanced at me as if he wondered was I kidding, the kettle calling the pot black. He said, 'Well, there's that, but I meant he used to be a Guard. Them fuckers never change their spots.'

9
    A drunk kneeling before the cross,
dying of a hangover, says to God,
'Come down, lemme up there for a while.'
    After the funeral of John Willis, his family shut down. At home were his parents and his sister, Maria. For a few days, neighbours called, bringing food, condolences and very little actually to say. The manner of his death, crucifixion, brought all comments to a halt.
What was to offer in the comfort line?
    'He's better off.'
    'Time eases all pain.'
    'Only a hundred shopping days to Christmas.'
    It was easier not to call, so the house gradually became filled with silence. Maria was inconsolable. She felt especially bad as she'd always been closer to their older brother, Rory, who was in England. She was nineteen, and had her first car, a secondhand Datsun with a lot of mileage on the clock.
Maria was a plain girl, and all the make-up in
the world only seemed to scream, Christ, she's plain . But when she got behind the wheel, she felt like a player, like she was important.
Even, sometimes, that she might be pretty.
She worked for a local building firm and they'd told her to take as much time off as she wished. A Monday morning, she'd driven to Salthill, parked on the promenade and watched the ocean. She liked it when it was rough, the fierceness of the sea worked like a balm on her agonized heart. If she'd looked in the mirror, she'd have seen a girl sitting on a bench, a girl with dark hair and madness in her eyes. The girl was watching Maria with a ferocious intensity. From time to time the girl muttered, 'You're going to burn, bitch.'
    My phone rang and I answered to my solicitor.
He said a local auctioneer had asked if I'd consider selling my apartment. My initial reaction was no way, but for the hell of it I
asked how much he was offering, and was near floored to hear the amount.
    I went, 'For an apartment?'
    I couldn't believe it.
    He said, 'City-centre residences are like gold dust, and as an investment you can't lose.'
    All my befuddled life I've made decisions on
the spur of the moment, usually bad ones.
Now I went, 'OK, let's do it.'
    He was as surprised as I was, asked, 'You sure?'
    'Of course not, but sell it anyway.'
    I had long been thinking of making a major change to my life. If I continued as I was, Galway would kill me – it had very nearly done so already. Just like that, I decided to go to America. I'd said for years I'd love to go – now I could do it in some style, head down to Florida, find me a rich widow, lie in the sun.
    Florida was in the grip of its fourth hurricane and I was planning to go there. Par for the course of my life. First I'd hit New York, soak up the city, then mosey on down to Vegas and then south. I might even go to Mexico. My heart was pounding, my palms covered in perspiration and I realized I was excited at the thought of a new life. God, how long had it been since I'd been worked up about anything? I'd look into the crucifixion deal for Ridge, see if I could solve it and then take off, leaving all that shite behind me.
    I got out