Clutching her purse to her chest out of fear, she said, “I’ll tell no one. I swear it.”
“You have kind eyes. I believe you.”
“You…you have kind eyes, too, sir.”
“They are kind now,” he said. “But if it should happen that I have to pay you that wee visit…you won’t recognize these eyes, love. And you won’t believe what the mind that sits just behind ’em is capable of thinkin’ up.”
Tears streamed down the woman’s face, rolled onto her throat, continued into her cleavage. She tried to speak, but no words would come.
“Off you go, then, Aida Boucher.” She knew he said her full name as a reminder that he could find her whenever he wanted.
She rose and headed for the stairs without a look back at either the man on the bed or the man standing there with the knife in his hand.
—
Campbell Coyle cut the man on the bed free of his ties, then ordered him to get dressed. The Greek did so, then followed Coyle’s order to sit down in the chair the Black woman had just vacated.
Marcus Maragos had tried to speak a couple of times, but both times he was just shushed by the Irishman.
Once he was seated, Coyle stood above him and said, “Now…shall we talk?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Coyle pulled down his hood, lowered the scarf covering his face. “I done told you once, chief. I’m Charlie Coyle’s da.”
Maragos’s face registered astonishment. “The…You’re the old man. From the street today.”
“Apparently I’m nottooold for what I’ve had to do tonight.”
Maragos looked around the room, then at the bedroom door. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
“Your two men downstairs. They’re dead. If you had ten men downstairs, they’dallbe dead.”
“How?”
Coyle did not answer.
The Greek flashed another look to the door, so Coyle reached into his jacket. He pulled out the Makarov pistol, the silencer already attached. “If you’re thinking about doin’ a runner, if you’re thinking you’re faster than me…you’re likely not. But even if you are, I get a muzzle velocity of a thousand feet per second with this pistol, and I don’t think you want to race a bullet, not after all the exertion you’ve already put yourself through tonight with that girl, yeah? She left you knackered enough, by the looks of it.”
“What do you want from me? I told you I’d talk to you, all’s you had to do was—”
“Make an appointment, yeh? Just call up Miss Lucy, and she’ll work me right into your busy day?”
“That’s right.”
“Bollocks. I could see it in your eyes. No, sir. I’ll be having my talk right now. I want to know about what happened to Charlie.”
Maragos stopped looking at the door, his gaze turned inwards for a moment. He said, “That was terrible, what the American did to him.” With a look up to Coyle, he said, “But why are you here? What are you blaming me for? It wasn’t my fault what happened.” Quickly, he added, “Wasn’t Charlie’s fault what happened, either. Not at all. It was the American’s fault.”
“Aye. And I’ll be having a word with the American, won’t I? Who was he?”
Maragos shook his head adamantly. “I don’t know who he was.”
“No matter. Next place I go after you, they’ll know who he was. I’ll get him sorted.”
“Where…where are you…” Maragos stopped talking, looked at Coyle for a long moment.
He said, “Seriously, mate. Who are you? How did you get through alarms, get past cameras? How did you slot my security boys?”
