pick up on the tone of his voice and disappear into the kebab shop. Honestly, they’re as stupid as they look, seeking safety in a drug shop. On the plus side it means they’re out of the way. On the down side it means I can’t blow it up now.
I take the taser out of my bag and grab the bottle of acid. I’m halfway across the road, walking my staggery tramp-walk before he sees me. He’s distracted by what he’s hearing on the phone and doesn’t look at me properly. Just sees some street plant on his patch. He doesn’t give me his full attention. Oh dear.
‘Hey. Fuck off, yeah?’ he shouts at me. ‘Go and find some other street to shit on.’
He’s so full of empathy for the homeless he should work for Shelter. I take the lid off the bottle and keep coming. When I’m four metres away I shoot him with the taser. He goes completely rigid. 100 thousand volts of electricity running through your body will do that. I run forward and catch him before he crumples. Not because I give a toss about him. I just don’t want the phone to get broken. I fire a flare high into the kebab shop so it doesn’t lodge in the pointless brain of one of the skin-girls, not that you’d notice a difference, and put his phone to my ear. Mr Boss-man is still talking.
‘Remus? Are you still there, bro? What the fuck’s going on?’
I hold the phone away from my ear so he can hear the flare go off in the drug shop along with the girls’ satisfying oral accompaniment, and then bring it back.
‘I’m afraid Remus has had a bit of a shock.’ I know it’s a crap joke but I just can’t help it. Years of Bank Holiday Bond films on TV have affected my brain.
He’s not out, Remus. But he can’t move. The taser fires so much juice into the body that it scrambles the neural connectors.
You can still feel, though. I pour the acid onto his crotch. I’m quite impressed that he manages to scream.
‘Who the fuck is this?’
The voice is cold. This isn’t Remus, all cock-front and gangland. This is the real deal.
‘Hello, Mr Man. I’m the one who’s been kicking you in the balls.’
‘
Tuesday
.’ I think the voice is meant to frighten me. It’s about as scary as Scooby Doo.
‘But I’m bored with that, so now I’ve decided to cut out your heart, instead.’
And then I take a picture of Remus screaming on the ground, his crotch a smoking ruin, and tweet it to all his contacts. Tweet. Who the fuck thinks these things up? Then I pocket the phone and walk back towards the tube station. There’s shouting and screaming going on behind me but it might as well be birdsong.
30
While DS Stone is talking to the lab, DI Loss’s phone rings. He answers it and listens to his boss telling him that there’s a full-blown riot happening on the Sparrow Estate, and he’d better get his arse down there, yesterday. They both finish their calls at the same time.
‘Come on. All hell’s broken out on the Sparrow Estate.’
She puts her phone in her pocket and holds her hand up, palm facing him.
‘Hang on a minute, sir. That was the lab.’ There is something in her face that makes him slow down.
‘What? What is it?’
‘They’ve analysed the DNA on the filter of the cigarette butt that was picked up in the alley. They ran it through their database and came up with a positive match’
Loss nods impatiently.
‘Yes? Well come on. Don’t keep me in suspense. There’s an all-out war going on that we’ve got to walk into.’
‘According to their records the DNA is a 100 per cent match for a Miss Suzanne Loss.’ She stares at him, bewildered. Loss looks back at her, the colour draining rapidly from his face.
‘Your daughter, sir.’
He sits down as though he’s been unplugged.
‘I’m sorry, sir.’
‘It can’t be.’ Loss’s gaze turns inward. And backward.
‘I have to put out a call for her, sir.’
Loss realizes his colleague hasn’t been around long enough to know.
‘You don’t understand. It can’t be. My
I take the taser out of my bag and grab the bottle of acid. I’m halfway across the road, walking my staggery tramp-walk before he sees me. He’s distracted by what he’s hearing on the phone and doesn’t look at me properly. Just sees some street plant on his patch. He doesn’t give me his full attention. Oh dear.
‘Hey. Fuck off, yeah?’ he shouts at me. ‘Go and find some other street to shit on.’
He’s so full of empathy for the homeless he should work for Shelter. I take the lid off the bottle and keep coming. When I’m four metres away I shoot him with the taser. He goes completely rigid. 100 thousand volts of electricity running through your body will do that. I run forward and catch him before he crumples. Not because I give a toss about him. I just don’t want the phone to get broken. I fire a flare high into the kebab shop so it doesn’t lodge in the pointless brain of one of the skin-girls, not that you’d notice a difference, and put his phone to my ear. Mr Boss-man is still talking.
‘Remus? Are you still there, bro? What the fuck’s going on?’
I hold the phone away from my ear so he can hear the flare go off in the drug shop along with the girls’ satisfying oral accompaniment, and then bring it back.
‘I’m afraid Remus has had a bit of a shock.’ I know it’s a crap joke but I just can’t help it. Years of Bank Holiday Bond films on TV have affected my brain.
He’s not out, Remus. But he can’t move. The taser fires so much juice into the body that it scrambles the neural connectors.
You can still feel, though. I pour the acid onto his crotch. I’m quite impressed that he manages to scream.
‘Who the fuck is this?’
The voice is cold. This isn’t Remus, all cock-front and gangland. This is the real deal.
‘Hello, Mr Man. I’m the one who’s been kicking you in the balls.’
‘
Tuesday
.’ I think the voice is meant to frighten me. It’s about as scary as Scooby Doo.
‘But I’m bored with that, so now I’ve decided to cut out your heart, instead.’
And then I take a picture of Remus screaming on the ground, his crotch a smoking ruin, and tweet it to all his contacts. Tweet. Who the fuck thinks these things up? Then I pocket the phone and walk back towards the tube station. There’s shouting and screaming going on behind me but it might as well be birdsong.
30
While DS Stone is talking to the lab, DI Loss’s phone rings. He answers it and listens to his boss telling him that there’s a full-blown riot happening on the Sparrow Estate, and he’d better get his arse down there, yesterday. They both finish their calls at the same time.
‘Come on. All hell’s broken out on the Sparrow Estate.’
She puts her phone in her pocket and holds her hand up, palm facing him.
‘Hang on a minute, sir. That was the lab.’ There is something in her face that makes him slow down.
‘What? What is it?’
‘They’ve analysed the DNA on the filter of the cigarette butt that was picked up in the alley. They ran it through their database and came up with a positive match’
Loss nods impatiently.
‘Yes? Well come on. Don’t keep me in suspense. There’s an all-out war going on that we’ve got to walk into.’
‘According to their records the DNA is a 100 per cent match for a Miss Suzanne Loss.’ She stares at him, bewildered. Loss looks back at her, the colour draining rapidly from his face.
‘Your daughter, sir.’
He sits down as though he’s been unplugged.
‘I’m sorry, sir.’
‘It can’t be.’ Loss’s gaze turns inward. And backward.
‘I have to put out a call for her, sir.’
Loss realizes his colleague hasn’t been around long enough to know.
‘You don’t understand. It can’t be. My
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