Collusion Read Free Page A

Sylvia said.
    ‘You’re all right, Sylvia,’ Lennon said as he reached the counter. He gave her the easiest smile he could manage. ‘Andy’s not going to hurt you. Everyone round here likes you too much. Where’d they go for their fish and chips if anything happened to you, eh? No more pasties, no more sausage suppers. Everyone knows Sylvia does the best feed in town, right? Right?’
    Sylvia didn’t answer as Rankin backed towards the door.
    ‘How’s that going to go down around here if Andy hurts you, eh? He won’t be able to show his face. Come on, Andy, let her go. We can sort it out. Crozier’s still breathing. Don’t make it worse.’
    Lennon searched for some sign of doubt or panic on Rankin’s face, found nothing but dead eyes set in his tanned skin.
    ‘I’ll cut this old bitch open,’ Rankin said, his lips moving against her dyed hair. ‘Don’t think I won’t.’
    ‘No,’ Lennon said, taking a step closer. You’re not that stupid. Everyone knows how smart you are, right? You can’t get away. Even if you could, where would you run to? This isn’t the Dandy Andy we all know.’
    ‘Don’t call me that.’ Rankin pointed the blade at Lennon. ‘Nobody calls me that to my face.’
    ‘Sorry,’ Lennon said. He raised his hands, the Glock aimed at the ceiling, in apology. ‘I didn’t think. I’m not a thinker like you. You’re the smart one in your crew, that’s how you got where you are today, right?’
    Rankin brought the blade back to Sylvia’s throat. ‘Don’t come any closer.’
    Lennon stopped. ‘You know you can’t go anywhere. You know you can’t hurt Sylvia. You’re too smart to do that. It’s time to think, Andy. What’s the best thing to do? What’s the smart thing to do?’
    ‘Christ,’ Rankin said. The death slipped from his eyes. Fear replaced it, childish panic, reason about to flee.
    ‘Easy, Andy,’ Lennon said. He held his hands out to his sides, the Glock aimed towards the hotplates and fryers at the back of the open kitchen. ‘Take a few breaths, all right? Let’s be calm about this. Let’s be smart.’
    Rankin gulped air, and the sanity returned to his face. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘How do we get out of this?’
    ‘Let Sylvia go for a start,’ Lennon said. ‘Then put the knife down.’
    Streets away, a siren wailed.
    ‘They’ll be here soon,’ Lennon said. ‘Best if we’re all calm by then, eh? You and me just sitting at a table waiting for them, right? ’Cause if they come storming in with you and me facing off like this, it could get tricky. Right?’
    Rankin looked to the windows at the front of the café. His mouth curled as the panic threatened to take him again. Dead calm overcame it.
    ‘Right,’ he said.
    ‘Good man,’ Lennon said. ‘Now, just let go—’
    Rankin shoved Sylvia at Lennon. The top of her head cracked against his chin. They both tumbled backwards. Lennon grabbed the counter with one hand, reclaimed his balance, cradled Sylvia with the other arm. A cool draught washed around them from the open door as Rankin vanished through it.
    Lennon gathered Sylvia to him. ‘You all right?’
    She gawped at him through her crooked glasses, her mouth opening and closing.
    ‘Sit down,’ he said, forgetting Rankin for a moment. Even if the prick got out of the alley, he’d be lifted in no time. Sylvia was more important right now. He lowered her to the floor, her back against the rear of the counter. ‘Deep breaths. You’re all right.’
    Lennon went to rise, but she clutched at his shoulders. He crouched beside her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head.
    ‘You’re safe,’ he said.
    He stood, looked at Crozier’s bloodied form propped against the wall. The Loyalist’s shoulders rose and fell as he moaned. He’ll live, Lennon thought. He went for the door and the alley beyond, Glock up and forward.
    Rankin clung to the wall at the northern end of the alley, grunting as he tried to haul