I grab Liberty’s arms. ‘Tell Hank Junior that the Luke situation has already beentaken careof.’
‘What do you mean?’ she says, confused.
‘Hank,’ I say. ‘He told me and Matteo not to worry about Luke because he wouldtake care of it, you know, as in…’ I jiggle my head.
Big Sue and Big Mand are suddenly very interested in this swift change of topic. ‘What’s the ten four?’ she asks me, her face serious.
I gulp. ‘How do I explain this?’
‘Quietly,’ says Big Sue. ‘We’re in the middle of Las Vegas’s busiest hotel with cameras and microphones hidden all over the place. Capeesh?’
Is there really any need for this level of paranoia?
‘There aren’t any in our room, we’ve checked,’ says Tash, winking at Sister Kevin.
‘Look, Connie. What the hell are you going on about?’ says Liberty, shrugging out of my grip.
‘I think you accidentally put a hit out on Luke,’ I say to her.
‘No, I didn’t. I just told Hank about Luke, and he asked me if I wanted him to… take care of… the situation…’ She trails off. Her hand flies to her mouth. ‘Oh, shit.’
At the mention of Hank Junior, Cherry suddenly springs back into the game. ‘Yes. Libs. Hank Junior literally said he made hits for a living and laughed about it. I thought he meant records. What does he really do? Did he say?’
Liberty shrugs, shaking her head.
‘Cherry, do they still hang people here? Even if they’re British?’ Big Mand asks.
‘You’ve all just confessed to being accessories to murder,’ says Cherry, her eyes darting up and around. She has gone very pale. ‘They fry people in the electric chair here. I’m going to be sick… again.’
Liberty puts a hand to her chest. ‘And I think I’m going to…’ Her eyelids clang shut. Like a toppling tree, she falls backwards towards the canal. Big Sue, renowned for her agility and speed, dives to catch her and lays her gently on the ground.
‘Right. Get her flat on her back with her legs in the air,’ booms Big Mand. ‘High in the air. That’s it.’
‘So, just put her in her favourite position then?’ says Sister Kevin, winking at Big Mand, even though this is very clearly not a winking-type scenario and is wildly inappropriate.
Tash elbows him sharply in the ribs. Poor Sister Kevin. He’s always just out of sync. On any other day we’d have laughed this off, and perhaps mentioned that Liberty often brags that reverse cowgirl is her favourite position, on account of her having two round apples for bum cheeks. But not today.
‘Never a dull moment, is there?’ trills Tash. She looks borderline deranged. ‘Come. Come along,’ she squeaks to Sister Kevin, as though he’s a chihuahua. ‘Come. Come with me. Come. Let’s leave them to this madness. I don’t believe one word of it.’
Sister Kevin, who could be undercover police for all we know about him, holds up a hand. ‘Everyone stay right where you are.’
Thank the Lord. Maybe he is the police. He’s the right shape. He can confirm our bungling innocence to Interpol.
He draws himself up to his full height. He is a veritable man-mountain, oozing calm and confidence. He looks us all in the eye with absolute assurance.
Such a relief.
‘I saw this sort of thing happen in a film once. MaybeDie Hard, or was it one of the Bournes? But the most important thing to do isnotpanic.’
His words roll over us like tumbleweed, sucking the hope from our very souls.
Feckin useless. Unbelievably shitting, effing, bollocksing useless.
Tears prickle my eyes, blurring my vision. It’s not his fault he’s a buffoon. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper, all the strength draining from my voice.
Matteo stands rigid, staring at him, opening and closing his eyes slowly and repetitively as though he is hoping to blink himself awake from this nightmare.
‘I think you’d better take him with you, Tash,’ barks Big Sue, taking charge. ‘We need to workshop this mess.’
