Alex walked over and stood behind Maggie, putting his arms around her waist and pressing himself against her, much more than he should. ‘I think he must be weird if he stands at the corner of the bar admiring Phyllis’s arse,’ he whispered. ‘I would much rather look at yours.’
‘It’s not you looking at my arse that bothers me, Alex, it’s what you’re pressing against it. That Latin blood of yours will get you into trouble one day.’ She smiled, half-turning and kissing him on the cheek before Phyllis’s cheerful humming made them quickly part.
‘Deana,’ Alex called up the stairs. Seeing her at the top of the landing, he beckoned her. Lowering his voice, he steered her out of the back door into the beer garden. ‘Did you do as I asked?’ he whispered.
She nodded.
‘Good. Was it hard to bring here?’
‘Not easy. No one expects a sixteen-year-old with a golf bag full of clubs on the bus, and it was bloody heavy!’
Like any good assassin, Alex couldn’t be without his own guns. They were his work tools, and had saved his life many times. And although he’d had everything else taken away from him, he had been determined that they wouldn’t take his guns. He’d known he would need them one day and that they would possibly save his and his own family’s life one last time. With no one to turn to, he had swiftly hidden his guns at his golf club before the police could take them when they had emptied his house.
Informing for the police was a means to an end for Alex, a way to save his wife and kids. He’d always known the next bullet at the next shoot-out could be in his head. That was the world he lived and fought in. What he had done, by turning himself in and grassing up his associates, had been the only card he had left to play with.
He thought back now to the puzzled looks on the faces of the police officers who had ransacked his home but never found any weapons in the house. They knew who and what he was, but Alex Silva didn’t have a gun? That was unbelievable. He’d also reasoned with himself that one day it might be mentioned in court that no weapons had been found at his house, casting a small shadow of doubt that he was known as the ‘Silva Bullet’. An assassin without a gun was like night without day.
These guns were his armour, his friends. Part of his makeup, almost. Knowing he would probably need them someday, now he had a bounty on his head and any gunslinger would want to take their chance for a huge payout, he wanted his faithful friends with him. How could he fight fire without fire of his own?
‘That’s my girl. Bring them to me later then, while you’re working in the restaurant. I’ll meet you outside the fire exit in the kitchen. Be careful; you don’t know who’s watching.’ Alex looked through the hallway to the bar and glimpsed the first of the customers: Percy. Shaking his head at the thought of another trawler story, he retreated to the cellar. Although Maggie and the others thought he was clearing it up, he actually found it was the perfect place to read his newspaper in peace, but first, he had something to do.
The restaurant was busy for a midweek night, the locals popping in for a catch-up with their neighbours. It had become the end of the day meeting place to share gossip. It was never going to make a fortune, Alex mused to himself, but passing trade was pretty good.
Deana was wandering around gathering plates, and she bumped into him. ‘Sorry, Dad.’ She smiled and quickly cocked her head, indicating for him to follow her.
‘Oh Deana, I’ve got gravy on me; I’d better come and clean up.’ Joining in with her playacting, he followed her out through the kitchen to the exit. Deana ran behind a tree and dragged a large golfer’s bag, full of golf clubs sticking out of the top, towards him. ‘Here,’ she panted. ‘How are you going to get it inside?’
‘Round the back, there’s the outside entrance into the cellar the draymen use. I’ve got an old barrel to stash everything we need in.’ Picking it up and throwing it over his shoulder, Alex looked around furtively to make sure no one was around. Deana ran around the back and opened the cellar shutter and walked down the stone steps that led into the cellar underneath the pub. It was dark and full of cobwebs, and Deana searched for the light switch in the darkness. Only a light bulb hanging on a baton in the middle of the ceiling lit up the room.
‘That barrel in the corner, under the stairs, the lid is loose; take it off.’ Doing as she was told, Deana waited for her father to join her with the golf bag. In turn, they reached inside and took out all kinds of guns, rifles and ammunition, filling the barrel to the hilt.
‘My babies.’ Alex held up a handgun and kissed it. ‘Thanks Deana, I appreciate it. Did you get there okay?’
‘Getting to the golf club was the easy part. Carrying the bag across the green and hailing a taxi for the train station was hard. But the bloody bus after! Oh my God, these bags weren’t built for buses. They take up so much space and everyone moaned. Still, it was nice seeing parts of London again and the old golf club. Reminded me of the old days when you taught me to play golf on a Sunday morning.’ She grinned. ‘But when you asked me to do you a favour Dad, I didn’t expect this.’ Rolling her eyes at the ceiling, she looked down into the bag and took out a few golf clubs to get a better view of the contents. ‘Look, they’re all here, just as we left them all that time ago. Christ, I wasn’t sure they would be, Dad.’
Alex scratched his head. ‘To be honest Deana,’ Alex whispered. ‘I wasn’t so sure either. I feared they might have been thrown out, but it just goes to show what a shithole that place really was, doesn’t it?’ He grinned, flashing a perfect row of white teeth. His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn’t believe it, here was his salvation.
‘Nah! This just means they haven’t had any new members! I can’t believe the caretaker or someone hasn’t tried getting into your old locker before now though. For all they know it could belong to some member who died. How long were they going to leave it?’
‘Who the fuck cares? Let’s just be grateful for their oversight. Now give me a bear hug, Deana Silva!’ Hugging each other tightly, Alex felt more at peace with himself, as his eyes brimmed with tears. Deana had always been his wingman. She was like him and had the same survival instinct. He had taught her and eventually Dante how to handle a gun, but he’d shared secrets with Deana that he knew he shouldn’t have. He didn’t want to frighten or bother Maggie any more than need be, so he confided in Deana.
‘Take this and put it in your room. Hide it well, so that your mother doesn’t find it when tidying up in there.’ Alex put a magazine in the bottom of the gun and checked that it was loaded. ‘The safety catch is on, but be careful, love.’
‘I know, Dad, you don’t have to tell me. What about Dante? He’s a crack shot.’
‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, it’s just you and me. No one knows I had these stashed away at the old golf club. Did anyone see you picking this up?’
‘I don’t think so, Dad. There was no one around, but I couldn’t swear on it.’
‘Well, let’s hope they didn’t. What matters now is that I can protect you all. I feel like a sitting duck knowing there’s a bullet out there with my name on it and nothing to protect myself with. Sorry to lay this on you Deana. You and Dante have had more than your fair share to deal with. You are innocents in all of this.’ He hugged her again. Mentally, Alex felt like he had made such a mess of his life, and more to the point his kids’.
‘Dad, did something happen when those coppers visited the day of the opening?’ she whispered. Watching her father nod his head, she sighed. She’d known something was troubling him, and when he’d asked her to go to his old locker at the golf club, she had a fair idea why. ‘It would kill Mum if we had to leave here. She loves it.’
‘I know. How do you think I feel? It’s the first home we’ve had in ages. You’re settling in at your new college, and Dante likes his new school. But, with these in the house, I feel safer. Put some of those old crates on top of the barrel to disguise it.’
Deana put the gun Alex had given her in the front waistband of her jeans, carefully hidden behind her kitchen apron, and disappeared up the stone stairs again.
Alex blew a kiss to the barrel loaded with guns and went up the stairs that led into the pub, carrying a crate of mixers. ‘Here you go, love, you looked like you were running short.’ Frowning, Phyllis looked along the bottom shelf of the bar and saw that it was fully stocked. Catching her eyeline, he played the fool. ‘You did say mixers, didn’t you, Phyllis?’
‘No, I don’t remember saying that.’
‘Oh God, what am I like? I thought I heard you say mixers. What a waste of time that was,’ he sighed dramatically. ‘Anyway, you take your break now; I’ll cover for you.’
As Phyllis left, Alex went to the front of the bar and asked the usual crowd what they were drinking, pulling their pints of beer with a contented feeling inside of him. Thank goodness Deana had an old head on her shoulders, and he had taught his children well. They would be safer now. Alex was going to make sure of that.
Waking up and yawning, Alex looked at the bedside clock. It was just after 5 a.m., and he could hear the dustbin truck. Realising it was blue bin collection day, Alex jumped out of bed and moved the blinds from the window to peer across at Percy’s house. His bins – all three of them – hadn’t been put out for collection. Finding it odd that none of them were full or needed emptying, Alex decided to mention it to Mark. If anyone knew the secret behind it, Mark definitely would. Running his hands through his black hair, he lay on the floor and began his morning push-ups. He had always exercised and hated being without a gym at his disposal, but for now, this would suffice.
Bleary eyed, Maggie glimpsed the clock beside the bed. ‘For God’s sake, Alex, do you have to do that first thing in the morning every day?’
Panting, he looked up from beside the bed. ‘Would you rather I did my push-ups closer to you?’ He winked.
‘Not this early, and doesn’t your dick ever have a day off? You’re like the emergency services – always on alert!’ Turning on her side, Maggie tried dozing off again, even though all she could hear in the background was Alex puffing and panting while exercising. ‘Talking of exercises’ – Maggie turned back over to watch Alex – ‘Olivia mentioned that the old publican used to let them have use of the pub when it was closed for a Zumba class. I think she’s hinting that we do the same – what do you think?’
‘A Zumba class – where?’
‘Well, I suppose we could put the tables and chairs aside; it would give them enough room. He used to let them use one of the rooms up here, but we couldn’t do that now. He used to charge them £50, and Olivia’s friend does the classes.’
Sitting on his haunches, Alex took a breath. ‘If you want to do it, then do, but I wouldn’t charge that amount. Why don’t you say, if there are more than ten people, you take twenty pounds, or a pound for every Zumba queen who turns up? That way the woman will make money, and Olivia will be eternally grateful. Between 10 a.m. and 11 a.m. would do it, then the cleaner will have done her stuff, and after all their hard exercise, I am sure they would need some form of drink to quench their thirst. Can I get on now?’
Starting his push-ups again, Maggie gave a wry smile. Realising she was never going to get back to sleep, she pushed back the duvet and got out of bed. ‘I’m going to put the kettle on. I was thinking,’ she laughed as she opened the door, ‘the Zumba queens, as you call them, have a personal trainer on site. Maybe you could be the Zumba king.’ Looking down at Alex on the floor, she saw him raise his head and glare at her underneath his dark eyelashes as the sweat poured down his face. She couldn’t help laughing as she went into the kitchen.
6 THE MYSTERY UNFOLDS
During his days, all Alex seemed to have to do with his time was observe and watch the neighbours. It was a lovely area, he had to admit, but it had hidden depths, he was sure of it. Seeing Mark with his head under another car bonnet, he strolled over. ‘How’s it going Mark?’
‘All right Alex, trying to fix this.’ Raising his head from under the bonnet, Mark rubbed his oil-stained hands with a rag.
‘Isn’t that your mobile van for call-outs?’
‘Yeah, it’s broken down again. I need to sort it out. I’ll pop in for a drink later. Oh, by the way, do you have a spade? We have, but it’s a bit bent at the end. Percy asked me earlier if he could borrow one.’
Thinking to himself, Alex nodded. ‘I think there’s one in the old shed. What does he need it for?’
‘Apparently he wants to plant something or other, pretty big by all accounts and he needs a big hole. He’s got a heart problem so I’ve offered to dig it for him; I don’t suppose you fancy giving me a hand?’
