The Killer II by Jack Elgos Read Free Book Online Page A

across his face at the thought. This was when he was happiest. All this stupid espionage stuff Turner had him doing wasn’t his thing - but his knife, his trusty knife! ‘Ah yes,’ he sighed and decided he could now have that drink. It was 9pm, so he took a quick shower and headed out. Just two hours later he was back in his bed trying to sleep and preparing himself for the meeting he had arranged for the following afternoon.
    The weather had changed and Liam shivered, the light New York drizzle chilling him as he patiently waited outside the bar. Finally the long, black limo came cruising down the street in his direction, decelerating gently until it came gliding to a halt in front of him. A black, tinted window slid down a few inches, then closed again as the rear door swung slowly open. He climbed in and took the seat opposite the American, looking directly into McKee’s face. As the car pulled away from the curb and into the main flow of traffic McKee leaned forward and pressed a button. The glass screen slid up and the men had privacy in the back.
    ‘So, how’d your meeting go with The Soldiers? Everybody happy now?’ McKee asked.
    ‘Aye, it seems so,’ replied Liam. ‘We’ll put the problem down to a one-time thing.’
    ‘So, what else can I do for you?’
    ‘You’re Irish American, right?’ quizzed Liam.
    ‘Yeah, my folks came over here more than a hundred years ago, but I’ve supported the cause ever since I left high school. I do everything I can to help get the Brits out of the old country.’
    ‘So, how do you feel about the Troubles and all the killings,’ Liam asked him.
    ‘Fuck ‘ em . Anyone killed by the I.R.A. deserves everything they get. The more kills they make, the better as far as I’m concerned,’ he smiled back.
    ‘So, you don’t get into the politics of it then?’
    ‘Fuck politics. There are plenty who hide behind that, but to me it’s simple. You need to get the Brits out and you need funds and arms to do it. I supply both.’
    ‘You’ll be unpopular in some circles then,’ Liam suggested.
    ‘Look, where are you going with this?’ asked McKee, a small trace of doubt creeping into his voice. ‘Sure there are some people who wouldn’t mind if I just went away, but not you guys, eh? I’m good with you guys, right?’
    ‘No one will mind,’ thought Liam, remembering Turner’s words, but he kept that to himself. Instead he fixed the American with an icy glare and dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Mary Jeanette McCann.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Mary McCann. She was killed in Belfast.’
    ‘By the Brits?’ asked McKee, desperately trying to figure out where the conversation was headed.’
    ‘No, she was a good Catholic woman killed by the Republicans.’
    ‘Informer then?’ suggested McKee in confusion. ‘Look, if you guys took her out she must have deserved it. Why are we talking about one woman of no consequence?’
    ‘So, you reckon me Mammy was of no consequence and deserved to die, do you?’ Liam said slo wly in a low, menacing voice.
    ‘ What? What the fuck are you talking about man?’ The doubt and confusion in Ryan McKee’s voice were quickly giving way to fear. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about.’
    ‘Mary McCann was my mother. The Provos had me Ma beaten half to death, then they slashed her throat open and murdered her,’ Liam hissed, ‘and people like you helped them to do it.’
    ‘Hey, Paddy, I don’t know anything about that, I swear.’ McKee raised his palms in a gesture of innocence then slowly lowered his hands, one of them moving inside his jacket. He wasn’t quick enough.
    Liam flew across the car to grab McKee’s hand, forcing him backwards and kneeling on him, pinning him down in his seat. ‘Sorry son, no gun for you today.’ He stared at the man below him, returning the look of terror he saw in the eyes with hatred from his own. ‘You know McKee,’ he went on, ‘I had a little speech all prepared for you. It was all about