Read Hell To Pay for Free Online Page B

Make a deal.
    "Fergie, I can tell you where the gun is."
    Fergie appeared to be thinking about it for a second giving Shug a glimmer of hope. Then a wry grin crossed his face and he shook his head.
    "Nah. McNab's no caring where the gun is now. The lassie doesn't know. You're the only one who does and you need to be dealt with.”
    "I thought we were buds." There was a tremble in his voice.
    As he tried to duck past and failed, Shug heard someone's desperate whining and wanted to tell that voice to be a man, but then he felt his bladder go and realized he was the whiner.
    Fergie kept talking. "Sorry, Shuggy boy. I need to do this. It'll clear all my debts. I'll have a clean slate.” A smile flashed across his face. “Get back with the missus."
    With a last desperate glance, a last appeal to friendship, he could do nothing as Fergie thrust the knife into his gut and gave it a twist. Something tore inside him. Fergie’s voice sounded like he was coming from a long way off. 
    "Sorry, pal. Just business, you ken..."
    Fergie used the same voice he used to cadge a pack of smokes.
    Tiny chinks of light danced before Shug’s eyes. They reminded him of the meteor showers he used to watch with his Dad; the pair of them with binoculars and a flask of tea, traipsing around the park in sub zero temperatures…
    "We’re all made of light, son," he’d say, as they stood in the pitch dark, gazing up at the sky and wee Shug wondered how many shards of light made up a boy. 
    He guessed he’d find that out now. 
     
     
     
     

Chapter 10
    I was half between sleep and the restlessness you get when you're trying to wake yourself up because you're in the grips of a nightmare, when there's a thunderous knock at the door. Pulling the pillow over my face, I try to drown it out.
    But, whoever's there is not giving up. More pounding followed by a voice booming down the short hall.  
    "Nancy, its DI Waddell. I need to speak to you."
    Damn, what does he want?
    Hauling myself out of bed, I shove my toes into my slippers and stomp down the hall. I don't know how he managed to find me here - now I'll have to move.
    When I open the door, bleary eyed and with my blood pressure rising, demanding to know why he's hammering on my door at 7am, Waddell's standing there in his trench coat, his gangly deputy by his side. The guy reminds me of an emu: all legs.
    "Nancy, can we come in?"
    If I say, “no” he'll only come back, so I nod and step aside.
    I lead them through into what passes for a living room - there's only enough room for a two-seater couch and a stool - and indicate that they can have the couch.
    "If this is about my parents' murders, I haven't remembered anything else and to be honest, I think it's a bit early for a visit."
    Waddell's gaze flickers between me and my new home as though he can't bear to look at me for any length of time. Worry's gnawing its way into my gut.
    He plants himself down on the couch, as his sidekick stands there casting a shadow.
    "You'd better sit down, Nancy."
    Something in his voice makes me do what I'm told, for once, and I sit on the stool.
    He leans forward and puts his hands on his knees.
    “I'm sorry, but Shug’s dead.”
    "What?"
    That can't be right. I saw him yesterday. He's got it wrong.
    "There's been some mistake."
    I'm adamant. There's no way this is true.
    DI Waddell reaches over and pats my hand. His face is etched with the same concern he had when he first visited me in hospital. He showed me more concern than my aunt did.
    "I'm sorry, Nancy, but it's true. We've been to the prison. Your brother was stabbed to death by his cellmate. He's confessed to the crime. Not that he could deny it: his fingerprints were all over the knife."
    A hand's gripping my heart, trying to squeeze the life out of it.
    "No."
    I get one word out before the tears fall. How much more am I meant to take?
    "It was an argument over cigarettes. He said Shug promised him his, but reneged on the deal. These things happen