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I waved the gun at the guy, who had turned around to face me.
“Oh fuck, man. We’re all screwed. No way, I can’t get busted. I’m not even high yet, man!” The junkie lying on the floor had rolled to face me, and was squinting at me through bloodshot eyes as he whined pathetically.
“Shut up. No one is getting busted as long as you do exactly what I say. Now, no one move unless I say so. You’ll have to trust me when I say I’m a mean shot with this. Unless you want to find out the hard way.” I surveyed the room. No one moved. Most were twitching, but none made an effort to get up or run.
“You, on the couch. Hands on your head. Good, now lie down. Head and hands on the opposite side of the chest of drawers.” He obliged, his hands trembling and movements shaky.
“Now, which one of you is the least fucked up?” I asked, inspecting the three men sitting in the living room, garbage scattered around them.
“I, uh. I guess I am. I’ve only had one hit so far,” one said as he r
aised his hand sheepishly, as if he was in class.
“Good. All I need is a sample of meth. And some info. Then I’ll leave you all to get as high as you like.” He nodded at me enthusiastically.
“Anything, man. We don’t want no trouble, y’know.” He passed me a small plastic baggie of meth, leaning across the room to stretch a skinny arm at me cautiously.
“Don’t give him our stuff!” One of the other guys was on his feet suddenly, frowning. “That’s ours! We earnt it!”
I stepped forward and pistol whipped him savagely on the side of his head as he tried to grab the baggie from his junkie friend. He crumpled to the floor, holding his temple.
“He told you not to move, idiot! Do you want to die, man?” the helpful junkie said, frowning at his friend.
“Listen to your buddy,” I said menacingly, as I took the baggie of meth. I glanced at it briefly. It had the same hue as Lucas’s biker meth he’d brought me. And was plenty enough to get a quality sample or two.
“Now, I need some info. I’m looking for some old associates of mine. Guys who can help me out. It’s very important you tell me the truth now.” I lowered my voice to a gruff monotone, lowering my gun slightly as I pocketed the meth.
“Any of you heard of Freddie Biggs? John “Goldie” O’Hanlan? Or “Shaky” Joe Nelson?” I studied them in turn as I listed the names of my previous police informers. Ones I knew had at least a small chance of being alive, and in town.
The helpful guy was nodding, smiling feverishly. His hand went into the air again.
“Yeah, man. I used to get high with Shaky, a while back now. Last I heard he was shot by some gang who wanted his corner.” He frowned, thoughtfully.
“Ain’t heard of Freddie Biggs for years, since the O’Rourkes got taken down. But John, yeah John with the gold teeth, right? He’s still about. Rolling with the new gang in town, so I hear. Selling dope for them over on the east side. It’s good shit, man. Used to get it from him couple weeks ago. But you can get it on most corners now.” He was looking at me, his glazed eyes gaining focus as the meth wore off gradually.
“Good. Now, listen. I was never here. I hear so much of a peep one of you has been jawing about my visit, I’ll be back. With backup, and five sets of handcuffs. Got it?” They were all nodding.
I pointed the gun at them in turn as I backed out of the room. “Now, get high. And forget I was ever here. Do that, and stay out of trouble, and I’ll never have to bother coming ‘round here again.”
I turned quickly as I left the living room, taking the corridor in two long strides as I jogged back to the car.
I’d already memorised three of the guy’s faces, their features etched into my mind. I took a mental note of where they lived as I headed back to the car.
I wasn’t fucking around when I said I would be back if I heard even a whisper about my visit. I had already learned that idle threats were soon ignored if you didn’t deliver on your promises.
Now, time to pay my old friend Goldie a visit.
FOUR
Eden
It was the day after Conall’s unannounced visit and I’d just finished my shift at the diner. The other waitresses had pressed me pretty hard yesterday about what was up, as I’d still been pretty shaken when I started work. I didn’t want to go over what had happened again. I held my head up and got on with my day.
At the end of the shift I was feeling much better, and by the time I’d finished working at the bar I was back to my usual bubbly, confident self. Then again the four drinks I’d been bought had helped a little.
I was due to work again at the bar for the next few nights, and was grateful for the distraction. Plus, the tips had been great last night when I’d been covering for the girl who was sick. I guess the Wednesday night drinkers had enjoyed the change of scenery.
I stopped into a little grocery store to get some things I needed back home, mentally listing the boring items as I walked down the aisle. I yawned, bored and a little tired.
