Sharks - Matt Rogers (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📗

but … I appreciated that he trusted me. Made me trust him.’

Slater said, ‘How many people did you kill for him?’

Vince closed his eyes. ‘Seven, I think.’

‘Your friends?’

A long pause.

Then, ‘Some of them.’

‘Did it tear Dylan Walcott’s operation apart? What you did.’

‘You’re damn right it did. His employees … formed splinter cells. No one knew who to trust. Obviously I wasn’t doing all the work myself … I kicked some of it out to locals to take suspicion off me. A couple of labourers who’ve done good work for me.’

‘Did you understand that this anonymous caller wanted Walcott’s empire to fall apart?’

‘You know,’ Vince said, ‘somehow that’s only just sunk in. I don’t know how to say it … I thought he was too big to fail.’

‘And the vig payments?’ King said. ‘Are they code for something?’’

Vince looked at him. ‘What are you on about?’

King said, ‘We have Eric Moretti’s logbook.’

Vince’s eyes flashed hot. ‘How?’

‘This island’s home to good people,’ King said. ‘Only a handful of criminals about, and most of them work for your boss. One of our associates went fishing for leads in West End and chanced an encounter with those two labourers you spoke of. It didn’t go well for them.’

Vince was dying. He didn’t care. ‘Oh well. They were scumbags anyway.’

King said, ‘She lifted Eric’s logbook off them.’

‘“She”?’

King nodded. ‘Yeah, “she.”’

Vince raised his eyebrows. ‘They’re bigger wimps than I thought, then.’

Slater said, ‘I’d watch how you speak.’

Vince tried to laugh but it caught in his throat and came out as a rattle. ‘What difference does it make how I speak? What you gonna do, kill me faster?’

Slater shrugged.

Vince had him there.

King said, ‘So is it code?’

Vince said, ‘No. What code?’

‘Half the addresses lead to dead ends.’

‘Yeah,’ Vince said, barely managing to nod. ‘I had—’ He broke into a coughing fit, and hacked up blood. ‘I had that same problem. I dunno why.’

‘Chasing payments?’

‘Yes.’

‘And they led you to dead ends?’

‘Over and over and over again.’

‘Who were the people you were chasing?’

‘Names in the book,’ Vince said. ‘I don’t ask. Walcott hooks a lot of the clients himself. Reels them in on his own. He’s … a people magnet. Charismatic. Sometimes I get passed names of people I’ve never met.’

‘Is that how it works for everyone?’

‘Yes.’

‘So someone savvy enough could use dummy names to dupe your coworkers into chasing people who don’t exist?’

‘W-what?’ Vince said.

He wasn’t all there. He was pale. Sweating and shaking and bleeding. He didn’t have much time left. Or much processing power.

It wouldn’t compute.

But Slater got it. ‘Oh.’

And a dark look came over Slater’s face, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle had just slotted into place.

He said, ‘Did you check whether any of these people you were chasing actually existed?’

‘H-how?’

‘Official records. The goddamn census. Anything.’

‘No,’ Vince said, his voice weakening.

Slater said, ‘Someone took your loans and used them to pay you to kill your friends.’

Vince shrugged. ‘It’s a dog eat dog world, ain’t it?’

Slater said nothing.

Vince slumped a little further down the chassis. ‘I got ate.’

He exhaled his last breath.

Slater looked at the body for a beat, then said, ‘I know what this is.’

King said, ‘You do?’

They got to their feet, faced each other.

Slater said, ‘Teddy.’

‘Teddy Barrow?’ King said, incredulous. ‘An old gambling addict?’

‘Not quite.’

62

Again, the jeep’s off-road capabilities proved themselves crucial.

They piled in and drove away from the scene before any of the workers hovering on the outskirts could get a good look at them. The crew would have glimpsed a light-skinned guy and a dark-skinned guy, and they’d find a dead Italian, but that was as far as they’d get. The jeep was now hot and easily identifiable, so they’d have to ditch it at the first opportunity, but that wasn’t a big deal. King drove it east through the construction yard until they came to a thick tree line, but there were sizeable gaps between the trunks. He manoeuvred the fat tyres over the dirt until they were through, untouched aside from a smattering of brambles scraping past the open top.

Then they were out, on a side trail leading back to the road that opened onto Grand Bahama Highway.

King tried to control his breathing, feed life into his heavy muscles.

It wasn’t working.

Then Slater’s phone shrieked in the centre console and he looked over and saw an unknown number.

Lyla.

That did the trick.

It got his adrenaline going again.

He said, ‘You going to take that, or should I?’

‘Pull over,’ Slater said. ‘I’ll put it on speaker.’

There was something different in his tone.

A cold focus in every syllable.

It was crunch time.

They were deep in the maze of side roads, sufficiently far enough from the construction site to risk stopping. King pulled to the shoulder at the foot of a gentle hill, obscuring them from view of anyone looking across the plains. Slater snatched the phone up and answered it.

‘Are you safe?’ he said.

Lyla’s voice wavered as she said, ‘Y-yes. But Teddy called.’

Slater looked over at King and mutual recognition passed between them both. The understanding that they might not be the only ones on the call.

‘Are you on the house phone?’ Slater said.

‘Yes. I’m still at home.’

King reached over and covered the receiver with his thumb so she couldn’t hear what he said next. ‘Her mobile might be tapped too. Either option is unwise.’

Slater nodded.

King took his thumb away.

Slater said, ‘Stay where you are. We’ll be there in ten minutes.’

‘Is Róisín safe?’

‘Who?’

‘Róisín,’ she said again, like that answered everything.

But it did, because Slater only needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Everything was moving so fast that he hardly had time to juggle it in his head.

Lyla’s friend, his brain told him as his internal computer finally sorted up from down.

He said, ‘Yes, she’s safe.’

‘Did you talk to Vince Ricci?’

‘Yeah,’ Slater said. ‘We talked to him.’

‘Was it a productive conversation?’

Slater said, ‘Not now, Lyla. We’ll speak in person.’

He hung up before she could say anything that further incriminated her.

King set off again, keeping an eye out for flashing blue lights. There’d be