Read Online Those Who Feel Nothing by Peter Guttridge - Free Book Online

business, friend.’
    â€˜That’s what you said then.’
    â€˜What – and that has rankled with you all these years? Now that’s what I call a slow burn.’
    â€˜I’ve got no beef with you. I’m looking for men you had dealings with thirty-five years ago – men you may still have dealings with. Men you told me were dead.’
    â€˜Most men I had dealings with thirty-five years ago are dead. Nature of the business. I’m the exception.’
    â€˜I know one of them is alive,’ you say. ‘I don’t know if you still have dealings with him and the others.’
    â€˜If the others are still alive. You say I told you they were dead back then?’
    â€˜You did. An ambush, you said.’
    Paradise shrugs. ‘Then they’re dead.’ He peers at you. ‘But if they are still alive you want me to welch on someone I do business with?’
    â€˜I just need to be sure there won’t be a problem with you when I go after them.’
    Paradise grimaces. ‘
When
not
if
you go after them, you say. Sounds like you’ve already made your mind up, whether I give you permission or not.’
    You say nothing.
    â€˜That’s all you want?’ he says. ‘My permission?’
    â€˜Current whereabouts would also be useful.’
    Paradise shows his teeth. ‘If I were you I’d be contemplating your own whereabouts in about ten minutes’ time.’
    You take a gamble. ‘They ripped you off thirty-five years ago and I bet they just pissed themselves laughing at what a dumb fuck you were.’
    Paradise clenches his big fists.
    â€˜You’re about a spider’s fart away from having your back broken. How do you feel about spending the rest of your life as a head on a stick?’
    â€˜Do you mind if I sit up?’ you say.
    â€˜Go ahead – it makes it easier for me to kick your teeth in.’
    You roll on to your side, trying not to grimace at the pain in your ribs. You’re hoping they’re only bruised, not broken, though it actually makes little difference. Your throat and chest burn from the forced ingestion of water. You sit up, cross your legs loosely.
    â€˜Thirty-five years ago you did a bit of business with four men: Rogers, Cartwright, Howe and Bartram. You told me at the time they were dead but I’m guessing in fact they ripped you off.’
    â€˜And pissed themselves laughing – yes, I got that. Why do you care?’
    â€˜That’s a long story.’
    â€˜And you don’t have much time left, so why don’t you give me the SparkNotes version?’
    â€˜They took something precious away from me.’
    â€˜Thirty-five years ago?’
    You nod. He laughs but it’s not much of a laugh.
    â€˜And only now you’re pissed about it?’
    You cough up some more water. ‘I’ve only just realized,’ you say hoarsely.
    â€˜And what do you want with these guys? You’re going to kill them?’
    Your lungs are hurting now as well as your ribs. ‘Probably.’
    â€˜No offence, but don’t you think you’re getting a bit old for that shit?’
    You say nothing. Paradise shakes his head.
    â€˜And you want me to facilitate that? I don’t think so.’
    â€˜Why?’
    Paradise leans forward again. He has a vein throbbing in his forehead. You watch it, trying to calculate his heart rate. It’s low. As if to explain why it’s low he says: ‘I never let emotion get in the way of business.’ He sits back. ‘Let me tell you something, pilgrim.’ He works his jaw, preparing his pronouncement. Here it comes. ‘The world belongs to those who feel nothing.’
    You nod. ‘I’ve heard. You think that’s a good thing, do you?’
    â€˜I think it’s a damned shame, but that is the world I live in so I have to acknowledge it.’
    â€˜Embrace it?’
    â€˜Deal with it.’
    You look at the