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But now, still struggling, unable to break free, his eyes widen, flickering between the occupied grave and the fallen Armando. Weapon levelled, I aim. “Take your fucking hands off her.”
He freezes, eyes rolling. Katya, sobbing rage, breaks away. I head-point her away. “Get out of the line of fire.” Still breathing fire and brimstone, she strolls back, then arms folded, eye slitting, she watches.
“Car keys,” I say.
Romano doesn’t move.
“Car keys,” I repeat. “It’s your turn now to follow instructions. Or instead of a clean kill, I’ll take you apart a limb at a time and I’ll bury you clutching at your gut from the last round I planted inside you.”
His breath shudders…
I hold up the pistol, shaking my hand a little. “Sig Sauer P226. Fifteen rounds in the magazine. Three fired. That leaves me plenty of scope to be inventive about where I aim.”
He swallows, head drooping, fishing into his pocket…
“Slowly… Throw them down towards Katya.”
Blinking rapidly, he obeys, the keys clinking down into the leaf litter. Stooping, she retrieves them.
“Get in the car,” I say. “You don’t need to see this.”
“I want to see this,” she hisses. She marches closer, although well beyond his reach. “For the record, you pezzo di merda, you put this child inside me. It was yours all along. And you knew that when you ordered Hickman to murder me.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Katya… Mi amora… I was jealous. That’s all. I…”
She backs off. “Finish him off.”
“Not with you watching. Whatever you think of him now, you were in love with him before. Now go and wait in the car.”
Her eyes narrow, but, chin jutting, she goes. I wait until I hear the thud of the door before aiming for Romano’s head.
He babbles. “Hickman… You’re angry. I get that. What will it cost for you to walk away from this? Forget it ever happened.” He jerks his chin sidelong. “Take her with you if you want her. You’ll never see or hear from me again.”
“Is that right? I’m supposed to accept your word? The man who gifted a woman with diamonds, then ordered her murder when he learned she was pregnant?”
“The gems. Here, take them,” He reaches inside his jacket…
“Whoa! Stop right there!”
His hand freezes… “The diamonds,” he jabbers. “They’re all here. The necklace. The ring. Everything. They’re yours if you’ll walk away.”
“They’re not mine. They were hers. They’re still hers. You gave them to her as a gift and she took that to be a promise. Instead, you betrayed everything decent there is.” I aim the pistol.
“Hickman, please…” His pleas rise on a sliding octave. “No!” The shriek cuts short, blood blooming over his chest. Flapping wings erupt from the canopy above, squawking protest. For good measure, I give him another through the forehead.
Rummaging into the pocket of his jacket, as he said, the necklace, the earrings, and the ring. They’re all there. His wallet produces several hundred in notes. A signet ring and a tie pin both look worth plenty.
Stuffing the lot into a pocket, I shove the gun into my belt, then roll what’s left of Romano into the grave where he flops gracelessly on top of Schmidt’s corpse. The grave was dug for two, but it takes three easily enough as, retrieving his Beretta first, I dump Armando in there too.
Stealing a glance back at the car, Katya is doubled forward on herself, shaking. Part of me wants to take her in my arms and comfort her. But another, more pragmatic part, says to get the three corpses covered over before anyone else arrives.
It’s a long shot. There was no sign of recent passing traffic, or even dog walkers. But the sound of gunfire carries.
Retrieving the spade, I shovel soil back over the earthly remains of Romano and his monkeys. As for the non-earthly remains, I hope there’s an appropriate reception waiting for the bastard, wherever he is now.
The three corpses are barely covered when I realise that there’s more shovelling than just my own going on. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?”
“And I’m telling you, I want to be sure this bastard is underground.”
