Read Long Way Down (A Gus Dury crime thriller) for Free Online Page B

looked at my watch, time was getting tight. I didn't
want to be around when the Bedford van packed with brick-shithouses pulled up.
Gun or no gun, I didn't rate my chances. I took out my phone, scrolled the
contacts.
    'So, just who are we dealing with here?' I said as the
line started to ring.
    'What? ... Wait a minute, who are you calling?'
    'I'll ask the questions, Barry ... Now I want names and
I want the full story on this job including the exact where and when.'
    He grunted, near spat. 'You're off your fucking head.'
    'No, I'm as sane as they come. But I know a man who is
as complete a radge as you're ever likely to meet.' The line connected. 'Hello,
Mac, I've a favour to ask ...'
    * * * *
    I sent Weasel on his way once I was assured he
was a third wheel in the overall scheme of things and then I sat listening to
Barry's sorry sob story about how the Irish took him under their wing in
Saughton. They'd heard all about Barry keeping schtum on the counter jump and
taking a twelve-stretch. They had this thing about informers over there, liked
a man who could hold his tongue. The way he told it, they really rated him, but
I wasn't so sure. The Irish were all over this city now, but it wasn't their
city. It was Barry's, however, and that had its uses, especially where the
local faces were concerned.
    'Barry, you must have known Shakey would ark up,' I
said.
    'Of course, I'm not thick.'
    I resisted the obvious reply. 'Well why get involved in
a job in his fucking backyard?'
    He took a last draw on his cig, stubbed it. 'I told you,
I had plans, I was going to take the money and run.'
    'With Kat?'
    He looked away. 'Yeah, with Kat.'
    'Well that's not going to happen now, so why am I
babysitting you?'
    He stood up, 'Look, they're a serious outfit ... you don't
just walk off on them.'
    I knew what he was saying and it made sense to me. But
he was deluding himself if he thought that the Irish lads would offer him any
cover when Shakey got hold of him. It struck me as fairly obvious that Barry
had carved out a life for himself that he was wholly unsuited to. There were
reasons for that, wrong turns and so on, but he didn't have any chances left,
save the slim hope I offered him now.
    I reached into my pocket and removed the envelope from
inside the Racing Post, chucked it towards him. 'Take that.'
    He caught the package, looked inside. 'Gus, what's this?'
    'Just a few quid ... for you to get yourself set up in a
new town.'
    A car's horn sounded from beyond the cooncil curtains
and Barry stuck an eye to the gap in the wood. 'It's a wee white van ... A
burly fella's getting out.'
    'That'll be Mac,' I said.
    'Mac the fucking Knife?'
    I nodded, as I stood up to face him I could sense Barry's
apprehension. He was lost, confused and ready to place himself in the hands of
his maker. For want of that option, I stepped in, 'Look, take the money and get
far away.'
    'But ...'
    I flagged him down. 'No buts, Barry. You're getting in
that car with Mac.'
    Three loud thuds clattered on the door. Barry's eyes
widened.
    The door's hinges sung out, 'Hello ...' It was Mac. His
footsteps sounded on the stairs.
    'Gus, I don't know ...'
    'Don't even think about it, Barry. Just do it.'
    The living-room door opened and Mac stepped in. He stood
with his feet splayed and shoulders back, his broad chest seemed to be filling
the room with threatening rays. Barry looked at him, then back to me. If there
was a doubt in his mind that Mac was a man to be messed with it evaporated on
first sight.
    'Alright, Gus,' said Mac. 'This him?' He tipped his head
in Barry's direction, Mac managed to make him look like something he'd just
stepped in.
    'Take him south, no stops, and don't let him out your
sight,' I said handing over the shooter. 'And ditch that on your way home.'
    Mac trousered the pump-action. 'How far south?'
    'Far enough that he can't get back in a hurry.'
    Mac nodded. 'I'll take him to fucking Brighton.'
    Barry rolled his gaze towards the ceiling. 'Oh,