The Night the Rich Men Burned Read Online Free Page B

spent most of their visit rolling down the stairs. Should be grateful he can manage this much. Just need to find a couple of kids that have recently started working for Marty. Not impossible, but he does hire and fire a lot. All the kids go to him first. He has the recruitment tool of throwing parties with whores and drugs. It works.
    ‘You going to be okay?’ he’s asking Holmes.
    Holmes is nodding very slowly. ‘Don’t think anything’s broken. Nose is burst. Sore guts. That’s where they kicked me. I’ll live.’
    Bavidge is nodding. He hates these situations. People looking to him for leadership, just because he’s close to the boss. He’s not a leader. Doesn’t want to be, anyway. ‘We’ll find out who it was. We’ll do something about it. Billy will be in touch soon about work. We’ll try and sort this out so that Marty isn’t a problem any more.’
    A grunt from Holmes, nothing from his woman. Bavidge is leaving the house, happy to get out. One of those disgruntled neighbours might have phoned the police the minute they got back in the house. Doubtful. Wouldn’t risk the wrath of Norah Faulkner. Just glad to be out of that atmosphere of stupidity and entitlement. Back into the car and driving away.
    There’s a feeling he gets. Like a weight, pushing him down. Like it’s all basically pointless, and it’s all going to end badly anyway.

3
    Out the front it’s all locked up. You wouldn’t think a soul was alive in the place. Glass is starting to have his doubts. The Heavenly nightclub. A large front entrance, shabby trying to look grand. Its dim name in lights. Glass and Peterkinney are walking past. They were told to go in a side door by Marty. They were told that side door would be open. Glass is leading the way round the corner and onto a narrow street where the side door is waiting. Hopefully unlocked.
    ‘Hey,’ Peterkinney’s saying. ‘Take off that jumper; we’ll put them in the bin there. Come on.’
    Glass is staring at him, watching Peterkinney pull his sweater over his head. ‘Chuck them? The hell would I chuck this for? Cost me forty quid, this. It’s a good top.’
    ‘People saw us. We were wearing these tops. The police will be looking for them. It’s what people will remember about us. We need to get rid of them. If we go in there wearing the same clothes we used at the scene of a crime, what’s Marty going to say? Us leading the police right to him?’
    Glass is nodding. He suspects, wrongly, that Marty wouldn’t say a word. Wouldn’t much care. He suspects that if it didn’t occur to him, it wouldn’t occur to Marty. But it’s a good point, so he’s looking around to make sure no one can see him, and he’s taking the top off. Something else to mention to Marty. How they sacrificed decent clothing to do a decent job. That might impress. Might even get them a little more money. Now that is naive.
    Peterkinney was wearing a dark-green shirt underneath his top. Glass was wearing a black T-shirt, which is hardly appropriate attire for the company they hope to keep tonight. If Marty has a problem with it he’ll just have to find a spare shirt. He was the one who sent them on the job. Promised them an invite to the private party in the club as a reward for a job well done. The job was done and done well. Now the reward.
    Once the tops are stuffed into the black wheelie bin on the street, Peterkinney’s dropping back. Let Glass lead the way. He’s the one that this matters to. He knows Marty, or thinks he does. He’s the one with dreams of working for the man. Glass is pushing open the side door, stopping and turning as it opens. Looking at Peterkinney with a smile. They can both hear the music. Not too loud, but a thumping background beat. The welcoming sound of a waiting party.
    ‘You hear that,’ Glass is saying. ‘That’s our reward, man, that’s what it was all for.’ Giddy excitement in his voice. The reward he’s always imagined but never seen.
    Glass is