Ripped (60 page)

Under
the
influence
of
his
sympathy,
however,
everything
dull
and
compliant
in
her
was
surfacing.
When
for
the
second
time
he
pushed
his
own
glass,
still
full,
across
to
her,
she
accepted
it
without
question.

'You
need
it
more
than
I
do,'
he
said.

'Just
so
it
doesn't
go
to
waste,
eh?
Oh,
Jesus!'
She
made
a
face
as
it
went
down.
'You're
right
about
me
feeling
rough.'

'Have
another
one.'

'I'm
going
to
the
doctor,'
she
said
without
conviction
.

While
he
was
ordering
drinks,
Murray
watched,
in
the
mirror
behind
the
expressionless
barman,
one
of
the
men
cross
to
the
table
and
bend
over
the
woman.
Meticulously
taking
no
interest,
the
second
man
stared
into
what
might
have
been
a
glass
of
lemonade,
tilting
his
head
and
sniffing
into
the
stillness.
More
than
alcohol,
a
lot
of
the
hard
men
now
who
were
on
drugs
craved
the
sweetness
of
the
mixers.

'Are
you
a
fucking
cop?'
she
asked
as
he
sat
down.

'No,'
Murray
said,
keeping
it
simple.

'You're
big
enough
for
one.
You're
a
big
fellow.'

'I'm
big
all
over,'
Murray
offered,
suggestively.

'Right
enough,'
she
went
on,
heeding
the
warning
voice
in
her
head,
'you're
not
drinking.
You're
buying,
but
you're
not
drinking.
And
another
thing,
you
don't
look
like
one
of
Big
Mary's
regulars.
I
was
surprised
when
you
said
you
were
wanting
Big
Mary.'

'No,'
Murray
said,
more
emphatically
this
time,
'you
weren't surprised.
You're
just
saying
that
now
–
but
you
had
it
right
before.
I'm
a
man
with
a
weapon.
Big
Mary's
the
right
one
for
that,
okay?
So
what's
the
problem?
I
need
her
address –
it's
worth
a
fiver
to
me.'

As
she
thought
about
it,
he
made
the
mistake
of
pushing. ‘Anyway,
it
takes
all
kinds
to
make
a
world.
You're
not
telling
me
all
Big
Mary's
customers
look
the
same.'

'They're
frightened,'
she
said.
'They
want
it
and
they
don't
want
it.'

Murray
blew
out
his
lips
contemptuously
.
'Some
folk
are
like
that
and
some
aren't.
Look,
if
I
was
a
policeman,
I
wouldn't
have
to
ask
you
her
address.
I'd
know
it,
wouldn't
I?
Stands
to
reason.'

'Aye,
but,
if
you've
been
with
her
.
..you
should
know.'
She
said this
not
searchingly
but
as
if
she
had
just
worked
it
out.

'My
place.
She
used
to
come
to
my
place.
But
I've
moved
away
from
there,
so
I
need
to
get
in
touch.
She'd
be
glad
if
you
told
me – but
even
if
she
wasn't,
who's
to
know?
Might
be
worth
more
than
a
fiver
...
That's
easy
money.'

'I
don't
know.'

He
stood
up.
'It's
time
for
your
doctor.
Come
on –
I'll
walk
you
to
the
corner.'

She
hesitated,
greed
and
caution
pulling
opposite
ways
.
'Where
did
you
say
you
met
Big
Mary?'

'Through
a
friend
of
mine
– Mr
Kujavia.'

'Kujavia?'
A
squeal
of
rage
and
disbelief
harshened
by
a
raw
edge
of
fear.
The
squeal
hung
in
the
air
between
them.
It
was
as
much
his
as
hers.
It
burst
and
echoed
inside
his
head
.
'Ya
lyin'
messan!'
One
of
the
two
men
at
the
bar
had
moved
to
the
door;
if
he
tried
to
leave,
he
would
be
caught
between
them.
The
barman
had
come
to
the
end
of
the
counter
and,
raising
the
flap,
was
standing
in
the
opening
dabbing
at
a
pint
glass
with
a
grey
cloth.

After
that
move
into
position,
everyone
waited.
All
his
life
Murray
had
found
a
release
in
fighting.
He
had
sometimes
been
hurt
but
he
had
never
been
afraid.
In
this
endless
moment
of
waiting
that
was
changed.
He
could
not
afford
to
take
a
blow
on
the
head.
It
was
a
knowledge
that
came
without
calculation;
an
instinct
of
the
body.
And
with
it
came
the
fear
of
dying.

He
rose
to
his
feet
and
moved
quietly
to
the
door,
stopping
where
he
could
see
all
three
of
the
men.
He
spoke
to
the
one
who
was
blocking
the
door.