Private London (Private 4) - Page 102

If any of the neighbours had heard her scream there was no sign of it. Unless someone was calling the police, of course. But if they were it didn’t matter.

I’d already done the same.

I slipped the rucksack off my shoulder and threw it at her.

‘What’s this?’ Her eyes darted back and forth between me and Del Rio.

‘Brendan’s supplier at Chancellors has gone out of business. We thought your boyfriend might like his gear back.’

Laura looked in the bag. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t have to understand, darling,’ said Del Rio. ‘You’re not in the game any more.’

‘Give me your mobile phone,’ I said.

‘I don’t have a mobile.’

‘You want to give him the phone?’ Del Rio raised his pistol slightly. ‘Or you want to be a hero like your fat fuck of a boyfriend?’

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and threw it over to me. I slipped it in my jacket pocket, then bent down and ripped the house phone out of its socket, kicked the junction box off and smashed the connections with my heel.

‘You don’t know what you’re dealing with.’ Laura crossed her arms and a petulant look appeared on her face.

She was an attractive young woman, no denying that. But there was a hardness in her eyes every bit as ugly as the slap mark bruising her cheek. Brendan Ferres was a hero, all right.

‘Where is he, Laura?’ I asked.

‘You want to shoot me, shoot me. But I’m not putting myself between you and Brendan.’

I didn’t blame her. And I didn’t much care. I knew exactly where he was.

‘We’re going to the pub now, Laura. You tip him off that we’re coming and we’ll come back for you and do more than smash your phone in.’

If she was cowed by that remark you couldn’t have told by the smirk on her face.

‘You go up against Brendan Ferres in Ronnie Allen’s pub and you won’t be going anywhere, tough guy! Except in a hearse.’

‘You’ll be glad to know that Chloe Smith is out of intensive care – they reckon she’ll make a full recovery.’

A look flicked through Laura’s eyes then. Sure enough, a flicker of fear.

‘That wasn’t my fault. That wasn’t supposed to happen. How were we supposed to know she was going to turn into some kung-fu bloody madwoman?’

‘You saying she deserved it?’

The look flashed through her eyes again. ?

?I’m just saying it wasn’t my fault. Brendan wasn’t supposed to hurt anyone.’

I looked at her coldly. ‘Well, he did. And now he’s going to pay for it.’

‘You got any sense, mister, you’ll walk away from him now and keep on walking.’

I looked over at Del Rio. ‘What do you reckon, Del? We should walk away?’

He worked his jaw muscles a little. ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I don’t do walking away.’

I looked at my watch. Just over forty-eight hours since it had begun and it was way past time to finish it.

Tags: James Patterson Private Mystery
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