‘You’re not lying to me, are you?’
‘Whatever you do, you old fart, it’s nothing compared to what he would do to me if I rolled over.’
‘Oh you’ll roll over, you prick. Like a good wee dog. Tell me, whose idea was the fucking bomb?’
Nairn shrugged. ‘Everything would have been fine if you hadn’t started this. If you’d left me alone, there would have been enough for everyone.’
That wasn’t the way Bako worked, of course. The psycho wouldn’t share the land with anyone.
Then again, neither would Burns. Not unless it suited him to do so. I still remembered the turf wars he’d engaged in while establishing his own operations. The long list of names of those who had opposed him.
It was just that he used a surgical knife where men like Bako used dynamite.
‘It was the bogeyman’s idea,’ Burns said. ‘Wasn’t it? You wouldn’t know an original thought if it kicked you in the bloody balls.’
Nairn said nothing.
‘How do you and Bako communicate?’
Nothing.
‘What kind of a cut do you get?’
Nothing.
‘Oh, you’re a hard man, now? Fine. That’s fine. You won’t talk to me, it doesn’t matter. But you’ll talk to my friend.’
Nairn laughed. Looked at me. ‘Him? Little goody two shoes? All he can do is watch and keep his mouth shut. He’s not like you, old man. Fucking hell, he’s not even like me. Had to call for help rather than take care of business himself.’ He cocked his head to one side. ‘Who were they, anyway? They weren’t with this old fart.’
I said nothing.
Burns left the room.
Did the old man expect me to do something? To prove his faith in me?
Nairn and I regarded each other. Lions sizing up the opponent.
I said, ‘I read your file. I used to be police. I still have friends. Want to know something, Nairn? You were a nobody. Now you’re acting like king shite. Even if you do have a little help from the Zombie. And I know you think that Burns will kill you anyway. That whatever he does, it won’t be worse than what Bako has in store for anyone who betrays him. You’re in over your head. And you’re scared shitless. I mean, you’re putting up a front, but it’s there. In your eyes.’
‘You have a point?’ He hesitated just a little. Maybe I was getting to him. Pop psychology paying off.
‘Aye, I do. You think you have only two options. I’m your third.’
‘You?’
‘Like I said, I still have connections. I can ensure your safety.’
‘Those cunts turned up at the old fart’s place?’
I smiled. ‘What do you think?’
‘Police,’ he said. ‘I fucking knew it. You’re a strange prick of a man, McNee.’
Was that a compliment? His voice sounded warm with admiration.
‘So what do you want?’
‘You tell me what he wants to know. I tell him I’ll take care of you. And you disappear.’
‘Aye?’
‘Bus. Train. Whatever. You get the fuck out of here and don’t come back. No one ever looks for you because everyone thinks you’re dead. Buried somewhere out in Templeton Woods, maybe. Or face down at the bottom of the Tay, pockets filled with rocks and eyes bulging out of your skull.’
‘And what’s to stop me from telling the old man what you’ve done? What’s to stop me telling him that you’re a traitor?’ He sounded eager. Brain cells firing. Thinking he had an advantage.
I leaned forward. ‘He’ll kill us both. We both know how strong your sense of self-preservation is. And I might just kill you my fucking self if you try.’
He thought about this for a moment. I let him stew.
What would Burns be expecting to find on his return? That I had beaten this poor prick to a bloody pulp? That I had threatened his family? His friends?
Was this a test? What happened if I failed?
The old man was in the middle of a war he had never wanted to fight. His defences were up. His enemies had committed the ultimate atrocity. All bets were off.
What did he expect of his soldiers? What did he expect of me?
The door opened.
Quicker than I thought. Had he been listening for the sounds of screams?
Burns and Malone walked in. The old man smiled. Showing off his incisors. Said, ‘Oh, I wasn’t talking about this one.’ He nodded at me to get out. Then turned to Malone. ‘This here is the man who will get you talking. I don’t think anyone’s ever not told him what he wants to hear.’
‘You lying fuck!’ Nairn yelled. At me. ‘You fuck! You promised me! You promised—’
The rest of his words were muffled as Burns shut the door behind us. ‘Come on, son,’ he said. ‘Let’s go have a wee coffee. Have a little fun with the bairns. Forget about this wee cunt for a while.’
We walked down the stairs. The noises from behind the closed door made me want to run.