Kick Back

Twenty

Ivan was there in thirty minutes. He paused at the bedroom door, looked in horror at the bed, and said, ‘Jesus Christ, what did they do to the poor bugger?’

Ken Sala was lying on his side, a thin yellow nylon rope looped from his bound ankles to his neck. He was red-faced with effort, his face wet, his eyes popping. The rope was slowly strangling him and he was powerless to stop it happening.

Sugarfoot turned around. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got it under control. He’s going to answer a few questions, aren’t you, Kenny?’

‘Let him go, for fuck’s sake.’

‘How do you know he isn’t trying to rip us off? If he staged it himself, we’ll soon know.’

Ken Sala managed to gasp, ‘It wasn’t me. I’m not stupid. Two guys. Let me go.’

‘Let him go, Sugar’

Grumbling and sighing elaborately, Sugarfoot leaned over and began to pull at the knots. When he discovered that they were as tight as pebbles, he took out his knife. Ken Sala began to thrash about on the bed, grunting terribly. ‘Settle down,’ Sugarfoot said. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

He cut through the rope. Ken Sala’s relief was palpable. For the next two minutes the only sounds in the room were the coughs and gasps as his breathing settled back to normal. He sat up weakly. ‘Honest,’ he said. ‘Two guys done me over.’

‘How much did they get?’ Ivan said.

‘Just over five thousand. I’ve got it written down somewhere.’

‘Describe them.’

‘One was on the heavy side, the other was thin, that’s all I can tell you.’

‘Faces?’

‘They had masks on. Them balaclava things.’

‘Not much to go on.’

‘Look, they knew who I was and everything. The fat one breathes lolly breath all over me and goes, “Where’s the cash, Ken?” ‘

Sugarfoot stiffened. He said involuntarily, ‘Hobba. I smelt it on him this afternoon.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Ivan said, his voice low and passionate. ‘This is all your fucking fault. Last week you fucked up Wyatt’s insurance job, today you go following him all over the place. I’d like to know how your mind works sometimes. What did you expect he’d do? Take it lying down? He’s telling me he can hit me where and when he likes.’

‘Bullshit. He’s bankrolling. He’s got a job on with Hobba.’

‘So? That doesn’t change the fact he nabbed five thousand bucks of the outfit’s money. What am I supposed to tell Bauer? “Sorry, the take’s a bit less this week.” Jesus, they already got their eye on me. This’ll convince them I’m holding out.’ He looked across at Ken Sala. ‘I’ll make up the difference myself. What Bauer and Sydney don’t know won’t hurt them. We’ll deal with Wyatt later.’

Sugarfoot shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

‘Just keep your trap shut,’ Ivan said. ‘Okay?’

Then he sat next to Ken Sala on the bed. He explained how none of this was Ken’s fault, and he, Ivan, would put it right, and Ken could go on as before, so long as he kept his trap shut, okay?

‘Okay,’ Ken Sala said.

He fingered his neck worriedly.