“Ishmael,” he replied.
“I had a feeling you’d show up sooner or later.”
“Well, it was sooner.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“Go along with Tynesdale, you mean? Or help Marcus plant that gun? Which, I must admit, I told him you’d not fall for that. Class act on how you got rid of it. Sending it to Interpol through a series of multiple post drops? Genius. They’ve now tied it to three unsolved murders.”
“And any prints on it won’t belong to me or any of my people,” Ishmael said quietly.
“Nope. Wiped clean, it was. Pity. Now, as to why, well, I rebuffed them, I really did, for the longest time. Then Sean had his wee accident.”
“He was stealing from me and working with Tynesdale to set me up, making it look like I was involved in the drug trade if anyone intercepted those crates.”
“Yes, I understand that, but see, here’s the thing. He was family. My mother’s godson, really, but still, family. My mum was devastated by his death. Simply devastated.”
Ishmael stared at the man.All of this was because of Sean?
“So, you were pissed off because Sean died and you suspected me because of the stolen liquor. So, you what? Agreed to have me fitted up for some old murders with the gun?”
That is a really stupid reason.
Ishmael flicked his gaze out the kitchen window and back, spotting Ezra. Ezra raised a finger to his lips.
“That was Marcus’ dumb idea. He planned to call the Met in the morning with an anonymous tip about an illegal firearm. When you called me bitching about it, I let him know it was a no can do. So, plan B it was. You’ve got to understand, Tynesdale already had Crichton working for him. Your boy was always going to be snatched, just by virtue of him being yours. It was just supposed to be a few days later and in the parking garage of your hotel. Not some wild West action in Chinatown that brought out the Jo-Pok.”
“I see. So, since the Jo-pok took out Marcus and Tynesdale is gone, you have to deal with me yourself.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “It really would have been a lot less hassle if they’d just done things properly. You’d be dead and they’d have the extra territory they wanted.”
Ishmael eyed the handgun resting on the table. “You intend to shoot me in my own kitchen?”
“Yes, then I’ll be on my way, hopefully before your two guys make it here after hearing the shot.”
“Gunshots are loud,” Ishmael agreed.
“Shut up. You’re just trying to keep me talking.”
Ishmael shook his head. “Now why would I want to do that? We both know it’s only going to end one way.” With that, he ducked. A loud, wet thunk let him know the hammer had hit its target. He jumped for the gun. The safety was off. Ezra walked around the other side of the table and looked at the man on the floor. The lump hammer had caved in the front of his skull.
“He won’t be getting up again,” Ezra observed. “I’ll put him with his buddy.”
Ishmael put the safety back on the gun, placing it on the table. He held out his hand for the hammer. “I’ll get that heated.”
“Be better to just torch the barn. He bled out all over.”
“Sure it would, but then the fire department would come.”
“True. I saw some garden lime. I’ll just sprinkle that over the area.”
Ezra picked up and shouldered Tiegan’s body. “Fucking Sean, man. All this bullshit because of him,” Ezra muttered.
“Just bind up his crotch and line the boot carefully,” Ishmael said tiredly. He just wanted his boy to return. He could have fun making him squirm as he put the cream in his ass using his fingers. Then they could eat before going to bed to sleep.
“Will do, boss.”
Ishmael watched him go. Half an hour later, he was telling him the way to the pig farm, reminding him to wait until all the lights at the farmhouse were out.
“That’s hours away,” Ezra observed.
“Yes. So, leave the car where you’ve parked it around back and wait.”
Ezra simply nodded.
