Sanctuary

34

Clancy arrived almost on their heels, with his two heavies in tow. Before he could say anything, I handed him the sleeping bundle. ‘The crazy nun had your boy sedated, but I don’t think he’ll suffer any ill effects.’

Clancy’s face as he took his child in his arms was something to see. All the hard-arse pose, the mask of ferocity he wore, just slipped away and I nearly felt for him.

I told him that Ridge had put the puzzle together so we were able to track down the psycho.

He asked, in a very quiet voice, ‘Where is she now, the woman who kidnapped my boy?’

I told him how she’d nearly got the upper hand but Ridge had grappled with her and the nun had been stabbed in the struggle. I said he’d find her in the crypt of the church. I wanted Ridge to get the credit — recovering the Chief’s child, serious kudos there. He knew there were gaping holes in my account but he had his child back and was prepared to let the inconsistencies slide.

He said, ‘I suppose I owe you.’

Blood was seeping through the makeshift tourniquet and he asked, ‘You want me to have one of my men drive you to the hospital?’

I shrugged it off and he was silent again.

Then he said, ‘Thanks.’

Cost him. He had to dredge it up past all his feelings for me and it near choked him.

I said, ‘There is one thing.’

He was still cradling his child in his arms, as if he’d never let go. His two heavies looked slightly uncomfortable. Seeing their boss vulnerable was not something they knew how to cope with.

I said, ‘I’d like a moment alone with Tom.’

Tom — who’d beaten me black and blue.

Clancy looked at Tom, who seemed delighted. Another crack at me, maybe? Tom smiled and Clancy said, ‘OK.’

He told the other heavy to get a squad together, get over to the church and pick up the dead nun.

He moved to the door, stopped, was about to say something, then simply nodded and was gone.

I was sitting in the armchair, blood still seeping from my wounds as Tom approached, flexing his fingers. He asked, ‘So Taylor, you think you’re some kind of hero, that it? You’re still shite to me. You got lucky — big deal. You’re the crap I wipe off me shoes.’

I kept my voice low, asked, ‘Would you ease the binding on my leg? I can’t reach it.’

He laughed. ‘What am I, your fucking nurse?’

‘I think your boss would appreciate you helping me out, just this once.’

He sighed. ‘Once. . and that’s it, then the sheet is clean.’

As he bent down I swung the revolver and broke his nose. I swung again and broke his cheekbone. He fell back in pain and astonishment. I levelled the revolver and said, ‘Get out of my home, you bollix.’

He staggered to his feet, wiping the blood from his face. He looked like he was going to come at me. I cocked the trigger. We both heard that ominous click as a round slipped into the chamber and I asked, ‘Would I shoot you? What do you think?’

He glared at me, said, ‘There’ll be other times, Taylor.’

I smiled. ‘I sure hope so. Now get the fuck out of my house.’

He paused at the door. ‘You’d better keep the piece of junk real close, else I’ll make you eat it.’

I said, ‘Next time, buddy, I’ll have a hurley.’