Sensing that victory is his, Franklin opens his mouth and lets out a roar, and then he comes flying at Cody.
Literally flying.
Because what Franklin hasn’t banked on is that Toby, bless his cotton Batman socks, still has fight left in his body. Enough, anyway, to stretch out a leg as Franklin reaches him. Enough to cause Franklin to trip right over that leg and go sailing arse over tit across the kitchenette, and then to crash with bone-jarring force on the hard tiled floor, his hands outspread to break his fall and therefore losing their grip on the knife that then goes skidding under the oven.
Cody exploits his golden opportunity with a kick aimed at Franklin’s face, but Franklin dodges, and the toe of Cody’s shoe only scrapes down the side of Franklin’s head. As Franklin scrambles to his feet, Cody grabs a plate from the draining board and smashes it over Franklin’s head. Franklin staggers backwards, and Cody leaps at him and lands the sole of his foot on his chest, propelling him out of the kitchen.
Knowing he can’t allow Franklin time to recover, Cody rushes after him and starts firing punches, and now it’s a regular fist-fight, the pair slugging it out for all they’re worth. But Cody is younger and he’s fitter and he’s more experienced at this kind of thing. He blocks most of the punches that come his way and lands a fair few of his own. He takes great satisfaction in the cracking sound created when his fist collides with Franklin’s nose. And when one particularly punishing roundhouse crashes into Franklin’s jaw and sends him spinning onto the dining table, Cody knows he’s won, he could restrain Franklin now and read him his rights. But he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t listen to what the law says he’s supposed to do regarding minimum force, because he has revenge to exact here; this piece of shit doesn’t deserve an easy ride. And so he grabs the back of Franklin’s head and slams it down into the remains of Toby’s evening meal, what looks like a bowl of scouse. He does this not once but for each of the people Franklin has killed. And then he does it again for Parker, and again for Webley, and again for Toby. And only when Toby’s bowl has been smashed to tiny pieces does Cody haul Franklin off the table and onto the floor. He forces Franklin’s arms behind his back and he removes his own trouser belt because, like most detectives, he never carries handcuffs around with him, and he fashions the belt into a figure-of-eight binding around Franklin’s wrists. And then he looks into the face of the half-conscious Franklin, now liberally covered with a mixture of blood and spittle and meat and vegetables and beetroot and broken crockery and broken teeth, and he says, ‘Don’t fucking move!’
Cody rushes over to Toby, still lying on the floor clutching his abdomen.
‘It’s okay, Toby. You’re gonna be all right.’ Although in truth he’s not certain about this. There’s a lot of blood here, and Toby has somehow managed to turn paler than his usual complexion.
Cody lifts Toby’s shirt and examines the stab wound. It looks deep. He rummages through the kitchen drawers and finds a clean tea-towel, which he folds and presses against the injury.
‘Hold this tightly against you,’ he instructs.
And then he’s on the radio, yelling for urgent assistance.
43
And I Love Her
– The Beatles
There are two conversations Cody has while he is waiting for the emergency services to arrive, both of which will stay with him for a long time.
The first is with Toby.
Cody is kneeling on the floor next to him, telling him it will be okay. For most of the time, Toby merely groans. But then he suddenly finds a smile.
‘What is it?’ Cody asks.
‘Mjolnir.’
‘What?’ It sounds gibberish to Cody.
‘Mjolnir. Thor’s hammer. You were like Thor back there. What you did was amazing. I wish I was like that.’
Cody returns the smile. ‘You know what, Toby? If anyone was a superhero today it was you.’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah. The way you came at him with the pan, that took real courage. I think you should be called Pan Man from now on. You could have a costume with a picture of a frying pan on your chest. And maybe a sidekick called, I don’t know…’
‘Pot Boy.’
‘Yeah. Pot Boy. That would be so cool.’
Toby laughs, but it causes him pain and he stops.
‘I’m not kidding,’ Cody says. ‘When he came at me with the knife, I thought I was a goner. You saved my life. Getting involved like that takes guts. Most people wouldn’t do it. You’re just as brave as those other guys in your comics.’
Toby places his blood-stained hand on Cody’s.
And then he closes his eyes.
* * *
The other conversation is with Franklin.
Franklin coughs and splutters. Spits a chunk of something out of his mouth.
He says, ‘You don’t get it, do you, Cody?’
Cody walks over to him. ‘Get what?’
‘What I was doing. Trying to make the world a better place.’
‘Several people are dead. There’s another man over there that you stuck a knife into. How has that made the world a better place?’
‘Love… is important. It’s vital. It has to be protected.’
‘Yeah, you said all that in Claire Somerville’s house. Carry on believing you’re doing good work. Everyone else knows you’re wrong.’
‘Including you?’
‘Oh, yeah. Especially me.’
