The Night the Rich Men Burned Read Free

stairs. If he’s here, he’s heard them by now. He’s had time enough to get a weapon. They didn’t plan for that. What if he keeps a weapon by his bed? Something else to put on the long list of things they didn’t plan for.
    A light comes on at the top of the stairs. Glass and Peterkinney look at each other. Never been here before. Never been in this situation. If they had to make a split-second decision, they would be too late. A man has emerged at the top of the stairs. Older than these two by ten years. Fatter by three stone. Wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. That makes up their minds for them.
    They’re looking up the stairs, necks craned. Suddenly feeling confident. The amateurs just got lucky, as all amateurs need to in this business. Peterkinney moves up one step.
    ‘All right, Holmes,’ he’s saying. Because it is Jim Holmes, the target. He doesn’t need clothes to look like his picture. Big and broad, with a thick head of dark hair and a dimpled chin. ‘We can sort this out nice and quiet. No need for trouble.’ Peterkinney’s smart enough to know how dumb that sounds. You smash your way into a guy’s house and tell him there’s no need for trouble. This isn’t how Peterkinney would have played it.
    Holmes had his hands in the air, but they’re falling now. Who did he think he was going to find at the bottom of the stairs? Maybe the police. Probably the police. Would be about fucking time. He’d raise his hands to them; try to make a good impression. Could have been worse than the police. Could have been a real tough guy. He knows Marty Jones is looking for him. Wants to send a strong message. Marty’s big on sending messages. Marty is under the protection of Peter Jamieson. That could get him the use of a man like Nate Colgan. Now there’s a man you raise your hands to, no matter how tough you are. But these two? These are just kids. The one coming up the stairs doesn’t even look like he’s started shaving.
    ‘The fuck are you pair?’ Holmes is growling. Going for his best tough-guy voice, which is pretty good by general standards. He’s had plenty of practice. Being a tough guy is his job. It’s how he makes his living. Marty lends money to people. That money gathers interest at a mathematically improbable rate. Men like Holmes collect the debt. But Holmes got a little tired of handing all that nice money over to a smarmy prick like Marty. Holmes did the hard work, deserved more of the reward. So he started keeping a bigger share for himself. Took Marty an awful long time to work that out, for a guy who figures himself as sharp as a razor. But he was always going to work it out eventually. Marty’s no mug.
    ‘We’re here for Marty,’ Glass is saying. Saying it like it means something.
    Peterkinney, three steps up, is looking back at him. Scowling. Shouldn’t have said Marty. Should have said Jamieson. That would have carried more weight. Common sense says you exaggerate the power you have behind you.
    ‘ Pft .’ A snort of derision. Not aimed at Marty. Holmes isn’t stupid either; he knows how dangerous Marty can be. A well-connected guy with a big ego and a short temper? Those are always dangerous. ‘He sending kids to do his fighting for him now?’ There’s a smile in his eyes. Marty actually has sent kids. There are other debt collectors he could have sent. Tough guys. They’d have done it too, for the right price, even though they know Holmes. Plenty of general muscle he could have hired for the job. But Marty sent the cheap option. A couple of kids looking to make a good first impression.
    ‘Look, we can sort this out,’ Glass is saying from the bottom of the stairs. Still trying to lure him down. Trying to fool a man who does this for a living. Still hoping this can be easy. It was never going to be that easy.
    Peterkinney isn’t waiting. Holmes won’t be won round. Once he has it in his head that they’re kids, he’s going to treat them that way until they