Authors: Allan Guthrie
She says, "Oh, love." Her hand clamps over her mouth. Her face is white. She says, "Oh, love." She runs over to Donald, who has stopped moving. "Love." She starts batting the flames with her hands. The smoke makes her cough. She chokes. Tears stream down her face. She shrieks, "Love."
3:54 pm
Pearce heard the singing. Heard the scream. He watched Kennedy clamber through the open window and return a short while later, hand covering his mouth.
Pearce said, "Okay?"
Kennedy raised his eyes and gave the slightest of nods.
Eyes closed, tiredness swimming in his veins, Pearce said, "Dead?"
Kennedy moved his hand from his mouth and said, "I think so." He closed the window.
Pearce said, "You better get out of here." His mum's killer was dead. He'd killed himself and saved Pearce in the process, in a strange kind of way. Pearce felt cold. He was never cold.
The young man picked up the holdall and opened it. He said, "Jesus," and closed it again. He walked over to Pearce. "Give me the gun."
"No chance." Pearce raised his arm. It took more effort than fifty press-ups. The gun wobbled in his hand. "Take the money and piss off out of here or I'll shoot you where you stand."
"That's all the thanks I get?"
"You were a big help," Pearce said. "Now fuck off."
"I don't believe this. You're only alive because of me. If I hadn't climbed up the scaffolding and got in the window and set up a distraction, you'd be dead." The bag swung in his hand. He looked about fifteen years old.
"What do you want? A kiss?" Pearce sighed. Bad idea. It made his stomach burn. He screwed his eyes shut. The pain was extraordinary. It made him want to laugh. "I
will
shoot you." He opened his eyes and searched Kennedy's.
"Who are you trying to kid?" Kennedy said. The muscles around his mouth gradually slackened. "You couldn't hit a barn door if you were standing right in front of it."
Pearce couldn't keep his hand raised. He let it drop, still clutching the weapon. "What do you want?"
Kennedy said, "The gun."
"What for?"
"Never had one and it's no use to you. You think I want to shoot you?"
"Maybe," Pearce said. "You might think I'll tell the cops about the money."
"You won't."
"You prepared to take that gamble?"
"It's not a gamble."
Pearce frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're taking some of it, too."
"The money? I am? What about your boss?"
"I don't have a boss. I resigned earlier today. All this," Kennedy gestured with the holdall, "was my idea. He knows nothing about it."
"And your bright idea is to split the money with me?"
"Two ways, right down the middle."
"I don't want it."
"That's irrelevant."
"I refuse to accept it."
"Then maybe I will have to kill you."
"Don't act so tough," Pearce said. "It doesn't suit you."
"The only way I can trust you is if you're involved. Can't you see that?"
Pearce thought for a moment. "My word isn't good enough?"
"I can't make that decision. I don't know you."
Pearce said, "Okay. Go see this guy. His name's Cooper. He's got a first name but nobody knows what it is. You should call him mister." He gave Kennedy the address. "I owe him some money. He'll tell you how much."
"Roughly?"
"Less than a grand."
"You have to take more—"
"Doesn't matter if it's ten quid or twenty thousand. It's a two-way split however it's divided." Pearce paused for a moment to fight the pain. He carried on, "Either it's stolen or it isn't. Now, help me." His hands were covered in blood and he couldn't get his mobile off his belt.
Kennedy helped him detach the phone. "You want anything? A blanket?"
"Just piss off before the police get here."
"Can I have the gun?"
"Fuck off."
3:56 pm
Pearce felt cheated. Revenge was sour. He licked his dry lips. They tasted metallic. He dialled 999. They told him an ambulance was on its way. He hung up.
He was exhausted. He dialled her number.
She said, "Hello."
He didn't know what to say. After a moment he said, "Hello."
"You're breathing strangely."
"Am I?"
"You okay? Pearce, what's happened?"
"You want the good news?" He paused. Coughed. "Or the bad?"
"Don't be flippant."
"Dread—" he said, "—fully sorry."
"Don't be cheeky."
"Right." He paused. Closed his eyes. Cold. Shit, it was cold. "He's dead."
She screamed in his ear. "Christ Almighty!"
He dropped the phone. Still heard her screaming. No words. Just a long agonised scream. His fingers fumbled for the phone. Got it. Lifted it to his ear. It weighed as much as a fat baby.
She said, "Why are you telling me this?"
"That was the good news."
"Stop it."
"Stop it?"
"Stop it."
"Stop it." He paused. His eyes welled up. He fought back the tears. What was happening to him? His voice cracked when he said, "I didn't kill him."
"Oh, God," she said. "Oh my Christ, thank God."
"Ailsa, I might," he said, "pass out."
"You what? What's wrong?"
"Tired." His voice was weak. "The bad news." He licked his lips. "I got shot."
"Christ. Where? Where are you shot?"
He tried to laugh, but couldn't. He heard the sound of a siren and felt an overwhelming sadness spread inside him. It thickened his blood. Lined his skin. Cloaked him from head to toe. "I'll be fine," he said.
She said, "Pearce. You okay? Pearce, you still there? Pearce. Answer me, you bastard."
Also available on Kindle by Allan Guthrie
Bye Bye Baby
, a novella
A Top Ten Kindle Bestseller
When a seven-year-old boy disappears after school, the case is handed to Detective Frank Collins. He's been looking to lead a high-profile case for a while, and sets out determined to prove his worth. But the missing schoolboy is only a trigger for another crime. Someone is intent on exploiting the boy's grief-stricken mother. And they have plans for Frank Collins too.
" a police procedural filled with incident … and man, what an ending." Detectives Beyond Borders
Killing Mum
, a novella
Receiving ten grand as down payment on a hit isn't that much of a surprise to Carlos Morales. After all, arranging contract killings is his business. But he never expected that someone might want his mother dead!
What's equally troubling is the fact that the anonymous package arrived addressed to 'Charlie'. Only two people call him by that name: his wife and his mother. Has his wife just hired him to whack her mother-in-law? Or is his mother just looking for some help to put an end to her misery? Or maybe there's another answer entirely.
One thing's for sure: Carlos is about to find out.
"… another fantastic whirlwind of violence and intrigue from Allan Guthrie, who is fast becoming a master in his genre." Euro Crime
About the author:
Allan Guthrie is an award-winning Scottish crime writer. His debut novel, TWO-WAY SPLIT, was shortlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger award and went on to win the Theakston's Crime Novel Of The Year. He is the author of four other novels: KISS HER GOODBYE (nominated for an Edgar), HARD MAN, SAVAGE NIGHT and SLAMMER and three novellas: KILL CLOCK , KILLING MUM and BYE BYE BABY, a Top Ten Kindle Bestseller. When he's not writing, he's a literary agent with Jenny Brown Associates.
Visit Allan's website at:
Visit Criminal-E, Allan's ebook crime fiction blog, at:
http://criminal-e.blogspot.com