Dead of Winter by Sam Millar Read Free Book Online Page A

again.’
    ‘We’ll, she knows where we live, if she needs a roof over her head,’ said Naomi, disappearing into the kitchen.
    Karl sat down without removing his coat. Bone tired, he could sleep forever.
    He could still hear his father’s petrified voice, somewhere in the recess of his head.
Promise?

CHAPTER NINE
ON THE WATERFRONT
    ‘
Slice him where you like, a hellhound is always a hellhound.’
    P.G. Wodehouse,
The Code of the Woosters
    L ate Thursday night running towards Friday morning. The man eased his tall ageing frame into one of the many abandoned warehouses studded in the docks area of the city. Once inside, he glanced upwards through a broken window. The city skyline had a grim appearance. Floating above, the palest of moons hung like an un-sacked testicle. Rain was coming down, mixed with sleet, and the night air was biting with a vengeance.
    He hated this cold weather and the dreary soul-destroying Belfast rain. Quickly pulled the overcoat tightly up to his ears, before lighting a cigarette. Sucked heavily on it, the nipple’s glow partially lighting up the side of his face. Smoke began filtering from his nostrils in ghostly grey leakage. He coughed twice, before smothering the third cough with a cupped fist.
    Despite the heavy darkness, he knew every square inch of the warehouse, having used the building for numerous backhanders from pimps, drug dealers and corrupt politicians.
    Flicking the half-finished cig into the darkness, his free hand touched the damp overcoat tenderly. A necessity. Felt the bulgingrevolver snuggled warmly up inside. A talisman. His best friend. His
only
friend. He smiled. Assured.
    He had arrived half-an-hour early, not wanting to be caught off-guard by any sudden and unexpected turn of events. If things went as planned, tonight’s payment would see his dream of a villa in the south of France come closer, and retirement from this dangerous game finally closing for good.
    From the outside darkness, eerie sounds came to his ears, slightly unnerving him: rusted chains chirped like wind chimes; battered directional signs squeaked on hinges; doors from abandoned containers knocked loudly up against their outer walls. A lone ship’s horn sounded like a dying whale.
    For a brief moment, he imagined the sounds of countless shipyard men working like ants, and growling industrial vehicles booming everywhere. But that was a million years ago. Now all that was left was rust. It was everywhere, devouring abandoned boats and every conceivable piece of metal. Even the genuflected weak light from the old lampposts failed to hide it.
    His mobile phone buzzed, startling him slightly. He removed it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. He didn’t recognise the number, but answered it anyway.
    ‘Hello?’
    The sudden coldness of gun metal against his neck numbed him. Momentarily, he became motionless. Then alive.
    ‘A little distraction and deception,’ said the gunman, slipping his hand expertly inside the man’s overcoat, before removing the weapon. ‘I thought it would take your mind off this being in your pocket. I didn’t want any accidents.’
    ‘Is this a robbery?’ he asked, too late, suddenly recognising theface and realising the stupidity behind the question. ‘You’ve been here all this time, in the dark, watching me?’
    ‘A fox like you has to be outfoxed. It took a while to place you in this position, but I always knew your excessive love of money would be your Achilles’ heel.’
    He was frightened and incredibly angry; angry for allowing himself to fall this clumsily.
    ‘You…you don’t have to do this.’ His voice now sounded wooden, desperate.
    ‘You’ve left me no other choice. If I let you live, you’ll become something I’ll no longer have any control over. If you want, you can have some time to make peace with God. That’s all I can offer you. It’s the best deal you’ll get.’
    ‘God? I doubt very much if any god would have his ears open for me