The Evil And The Pure (23 page)

Phials forced a puzzled expression, then snapped his fingers
. “Oh, my work. What did he say? Is it OK for me to fill you in on all the grisly details?”

“Not really.
” Clint licked his lips, trying to play it artfully, Phials almost feeling pity for the clumsy fool. “He told me you were wuh-working on something buh-big, but he wouldn’t go into specifics.”

“Did he say how big?” Phials asked softly.

“Said it would revoluh-luh-lutionise the industry.”

“That’s for sure.
” Phials cocked an eyebrow at Clint, playing the question for laughs. “He say anything about me taking my sweet goddamn time?”

“Yeah
,” Clint chuckled. “But he said it’s an experimental drug, a bruh-bruh- breakthrough. Said you can’t ruh-rush genius.”

“Very understanding of him,” Phials said softly. “
But not the impression he’s given me.” Phials started racking up balls. “He keeps pressing me for results. First time he’s ever done that. Like he can’t wait, needs the shit
now
.”

“Maybe he th-th-th-thinks you’re holding buh-buh-back on him,” Clint said, blushing, heart pounding.

Phials paused, surprised by how bluntly Clint had come out with that. “Holding back? Why should I?”

“I dunno,” Clint said quietly. “Maybe buh-because you’re afruh-afruh-afraid of him?”

Phials finished racking up the balls, broke, played the next shot, then another, choosing his words carefully, pleased that Clint had come so directly to the point. “Did Dave say he’d cut you a deal?”

“Duh-duh-duh-
deal
?” Clint laughed shrilly. “Wh-wh-what kind of –”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Phials interrupted. “I like you because you speak the truth. If you start lying, I’ll have to
ask you to leave.” Clint gulped and glanced around the room uneasily, afraid he’d say the wrong thing and that cousin Dave would hear about it. Phials saw what was worrying him and calmed Clint with a smile. “Nobody can hear us. Surveillance has always been a sideline of mine. I sweep my quarters every week.”

“I didn’t
know that.”

“I’m a man of many talents. You’re free to speak. So speak.”

Clint gulped again then spat it out. “Dave thinks you know how to make the drug. He asked me to find out.”

“Did you get fifteen pieces of silver up front or do you collect
all thirty upon delivery?”

“It’s not like that,
” Clint said hastily. “Dave needs the money. He… I can’t say tuh-too much about it, but he has a big duh-duh-deal going down. If you know, you should tell him. This is the key time. You can ask for whatever you want and he’ll have to guh-give it to you.”

“What did
you
ask for, Clint?” Playing pool, focused on the balls.

Clint wondered how much he sho
uld reveal. Thought about lying but didn’t think he could fool Phials. “He promised me a million, maybe tuh-tuh-tuh-two.”

Phials whistled. “A considerable amount by anyone’s standards.”

“Yeah,” Clint beamed.

Phials laid down his cue, turned to face Clint. “It’s chickenfeed.
This product is like no other. I’m flying with the gods on this one. If I pull it off, it will change the world. And the secret will hold. I told Dave I didn’t think anyone would crack the formula for a couple of years, but that was a conservative estimate. The profit will run into
billions
. If you could deliver that formula – not just to Dave, but to any established businessman – you could cut yourself in for a percentage. Instead you’re willing to settle for a couple of million which your cousin would probably gyp you out of anyway. My guess, you’d be lucky to walk out of it with a hundred thousand — more likely to wind up like me, with a bullet between the eyes.”

“Nuh-nuh-nuh-no,
” Clint gasped. “Dave wuh-won’t kuh-kill you. He nuh-nuh-nuh-needs you too muh-muh-muh-much.”

“All he needs is the
formula,” Phials disagreed. “Of course the formula doesn’t exist yet, because I haven’t finished working on it. But if it did… and if you were to betray me to your cousin for the possibility – the
possibility
– of a measly two million… you’d be an asshole, Clint, an even bigger one than your cousin thought you were when he sent you here to pump me for info.”

Phials leant over the table, potted the black, then scattered the rest of the balls with his cu
e. “I want you to go now.”

“OK,” Clint sighed,
slouching towards the door.

“Clint,” Phials called him back. “I’m not banishing you.
We’re still friends. Just don’t ask me about this again. Let your cousin hire somebody else to do his dirty work.”

“OK,” Clint
said quietly and exited quickly.

Phials stared at the pool table in silence, wondering if he’d played the hand the right way, if Clint would heed his warning and not discuss the mystery drug again, or if he’d get to thinking about the billions on offer, pick up on Phials’ not-so-subtle messages
–
your cousin will cheat you… you can sell the formula to one of his competitors
– and come back looking to play. He offered up a quick prayer.
Please, gods, let the boy be greedy. Let him be brave. Give him the strength to turn on his cousin. Help the poor fool set me free.

Clint hurried down the stairs, some thug he didn’t know trotting by his side to let him out, Fast Eddie still in hiding after the murder of Larry Drake. Flushed and confused, he stumbled out into the night, feeling like a failure, cursing himself, an idiot to think he could squeeze the truth out of Phials, he should stick to what he knew — dealing. Forget Shula, America, the millions, the… billions…

Walking up Walworth Road, slowing, thinking about what Phials had said. No drug could be worth
billions
. The chemist had to be exaggerating. Then again, if cousin Dave was willing to pay Clint a couple of million just to find out if Phials had cracked the formula, there must be a huge amount at stake.

If
cousin Dave was willing.

Clint gave serious thought to that as he wound his way through the streets to the Borough.
Two million a lot of cash, even to someone like Dave Bushinsky, even on a deal this big. Why give Clint two when he could give him one? Why one when Clint would settle gladly for half of that? Why half a million when…

Coming down
to chump change, a bone for a dumb, faithful dog. Recalling what Phials had said about established businessmen and percentages. His meaning clear — cut a deal but cut Dave out. Did Clint have the balls to doublecross his cousin? Even if he did, who could he take this to? He knew nobody apart from Dave who operated at that level. Best to forget about it. Besides, he hadn’t been able to get Phials to talk. The chemist was cagy. There was nothing Clint could do to loosen Phials’ tongue. If he was a woman, maybe he could fuck the doc and trick him into some giveaway pillow talk.

Clint smil
ed at the absurd thought. Stopped dead when he realised it wasn’t so absurd. He stood stiff as a corpse on Borough High Street, mind flying with the germ of an idea, seeing a way to maybe get Phials to talk, spill his guts, tell Clint anything he wanted to know. Risky, could backfire badly, but if it worked…

He relaxed and
headed home. Fished out his mobile, checked for Kevin Tyne’s number, upping the ante, scared but thrilled, getting in the ring with the big boys.

NINETEEN

Tulip had been giving Kevin the ice treatment since Fr Sebastian made his first visit (he’d been back twice already). Wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t cook for him, stayed in her bedroom ignoring him, watched TV silently when he dragged her out. He’d tried discussing it with her – he lied and said that Parry had threatened to blackmail them – but she wouldn’t engage, trembling if he touched her, rosary beads gripped tight, lips moving wordlessly as she prayed. Kevin thought (hoped) she might stop going to church, but she hadn’t abandoned the Sacred Martyrs, though she was avoiding the confessional, offering up her own penance, unable or unwilling to deal with Fr Sebastian as a man of God any more.

The easy solution
— cancel the priest’s visits. The first time had been exciting, the shock value adding to the customary buzz that Kevin experienced when watching his sister have sex. But Parry was all too human and pitiful when naked, weeping as he made love. Kevin would be glad to see the back of him.

The problem —
Tulip might think he was caving in, banning Parry to please her. Might get it into her head that if the silent treatment worked once, it could work again. A slippery slope.

Kevin found Tulip in her room reading a Maeve Binchy novel.
He rapped on the door with his knuckles. Smiled the smile he’d been smiling incessantly of late, acting as if all was normal between them. “Clint’s coming.”

Tulip didn’t look up. “
Is he bringing drugs or someone new for me to fuck?”

Kevin’s smile slipped. He sat at the foot of the bed and reached out to massage Tulip’s insteps the way she liked. She pulled her feet clear. Kevin laid his hands in his l
ap. “We can’t go on like this.” She glanced at him over the top of her book. “I didn’t invite Fr Sebastian here.”

“But you let him in.”

“He said he’d expose us!” Kevin getting indignant. He’d repeated the lie so many times, he was almost beginning to believe it. “He knows all about us. Whose fault is that? Not mine.”

“He wouldn’t reveal what I told him in the confessional,” Tulip said.

“Grow up,” Kevin snorted. “You think he’ll fuck you but he won’t rat on you? Parry’s a junkie and a paedophile. He’d do anything to get his own way.”

“Not that,” Tulip disagreed softly. “
Sex is a disease with him, he can’t resist it. But he respects the sanctity of the church, the word of God.”

“So you want me to tell him to get lost?” Kevin challenged her. “You want to chance it? You know I’m finished if I’m arrested. Even if I could take being separated from you – which I c
ouldn’t – jail would destroy me. If Parry blows the whistle on us, I’ll –”

“– kill yourself,” Tulip finished for him, almost sneering.

Kevin went rigid. His threats of suicide were the only real hold he had over her. If she lost interest in his life, he couldn’t keep her. He had to do something. Nip her insurrection in the bud before everything was ruined. “I could… ask Clint… for help.”

“What could Clint do about it?” Tulip frowned.

“Get somebody to have a word in Fr Sebastian’s ear. Big Sandy maybe. Warn him what will happen if he tells anyone about us.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Tulip said quickly
and Kevin saw his way out, his sister’s concern for others her downfall.

“I don’t either.
” Kevin sighed mock morosely. “But it’s the only way. We can threaten him but I don’t think that will work. Maybe Big Sandy could, you know, silence him.”

Tulip’s eyes widened. “No!”

“But if it’s the only –”

“No!” She closed her book. “No, Kevin.” Softer this time.

“I can’t think of any other way to stop him.”

“We’ll plead,” Tulip said. “I’ll pray with him and
ask him to beg God for strength.”

“You think that wi
ll work?” Kevin sceptical.

“Prayer can move mountains,” Tulip smiled. “Maybe not right away, but if we keep trying, keep praying…”

“And in the meantime?” Kevin pressed. “The silent treatment’s driving me crazy.” Pouting, making her feel as though she was in the wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Tulip said. “I won’t do it again.” She offered him her foot. He made a show of turning his head away and ignoring it, then smiled, took the foot and began to massage her instep, Tulip smiling crookedly, Kevin peaceful inside,
deciding to limit the priest’s visits then cut him out completely, their world restored to normal, all wrongs set right.

Watching soaps with Clint, Tulip guzzling crisps and Pepsi Max, Clint making small talk, edgy, Kevin wondering what the dealer was leading up to. They’d had little to do with Clint outside of the appointments that he arranged. Kevin didn’t trust the thin man with the devious eyes, but at least Clint had shown no interest in Tulip, one of the few men Kevin felt it was safe for her to be around.

“Any breaks pluh-planned for the wuh-wuh-wuh-winter?” Clint asked during an advert for ski holidays.

“I want to go to Italy,” Tulip responded instantly. “Kevin won’t take me.”

“I never said that,” Kevin objected.