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[1/19/03 9:57:01 PM]
Complicity
I shake my head. 'No, I don't think you're mad, Andy,' I tell him. 'You're
just wrong.'
He nods slowly at this, looking at the bullet he's turning over and over in
his fingers.
'You're right about one thing,' I tell him. 'You are one of them. Maybe this
spotting-a-niche-in-the-market stuff isn't so fatuous after all. But is a sick
response to a sick system really the best we can do? You think you're fighting
it but you're just joining in. They've poisoned you, man. They've taken the
hope out of your soul and put some of their own greedy hate in its place.'
'"Soul", did you say, Cameron?' He smiles at me. 'You getting religion?'
'No, I just mean the core of you, the essence of who you are; they've infected
it with despair, and I'm sorry you can't see any better response than to kill
people.'
'Not even when they deserve it?'
'No; I still don't believe in capital punishment, Andy.'
'Well, they do,' he sighs. 'And I suppose I do.'
'And what about hope, do you believe in that?'
He looks disparaging. 'What are you, Bill Clinton?' He shakes his head. 'Oh, I
know there's goodness in the world, too, Cameron, and compassion and a few
fair laws; but they exist against a background of global barbarism, they float
on an ocean of bloody horror that can tear apart any petty social construction
of ours in an instant.
That's the bottom line, that's the real framework we all operate within, even
though most of us can't or won't recognise it, and so perpetuate it.
'We're all guilty, Cameron; some more than others, some a lot more than
others, but don't tell me we aren't all guilty.'
I resist the urge to say, Who's sounding religious now?
Instead I ask, 'And what was William guilty of?'
Andy frowns and looks away. 'Being everything he claimed to be,' he says,
sounding bitter for the first time. 'William wasn't a personal score, like
Halziel or Lingary: he was one of them
, Cameron; he meant everything he ever said. I knew him better than you did,
when it mattered, and he was quite serious about his ambitions. Buying a
knighthood, for example; he'd been giving money to the Conservative party for
the past ten years - he gave money to Labour, too, last year and this because
he thought they were going to win the election - but he'd been putting
respectable amounts into Tory coffers for a decade, as well as
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[1/19/03 9:57:01 PM]
Complicity keeping an eye on how much the average successful businessman has
to donate to ensure a knighthood.
He once asked me which charity he'd be best advised to join, to provide the
usual excuse; wanted one that didn't encourage scroungers.
'This was all long-term, but that was the way William thought. He was still
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determined to build a house on
Eilean Dubh, and he even had a complicated scheme involving a front company
and a threatened underground toxic-chemicals store in the area which, if it
had worked, would have had grateful locals practically begging him to take the
island. And a few times when he was drunk he talked about trading in
Yvonne for a more up-market, user-friendly model, preferably one with her own
title and a daddy in serious big business or the government. His non-ethical
investment programme wasn't a joke, either; he pursued it, vigorously.'
Andy shrugs. 'It was just a coincidence that I knew him, but I don't think
there was any doubt William was going to turn into a man like the others I
killed.'
He rolls the bullet around in his palm, eyes lowered. 'However, for what it's
worth, if killing him screwed up things between you and Yvonne, I'm sorry.'
'Oh,' I say, 'that makes it all right, then.' It's meant to sound sarcastic,
but it just sounds dumb.
He nods, not looking at me. 'He was a very charming but actually quite an evil
man, Cameron.'
I stare at him for a while; he rubs the bullet between his fingers. Finally I
say, 'Yes, but you're not God, Andy.'
'No, I'm not,' he agrees. 'Nobody is.' He grins. 'So what?'
I close my eyes, unable to bear the relaxed, merely mischievous expression on
his face. I open them again and look out through the empty doorway, at the
water and the land and the ceaseless, wheeling birds.
'Yeah. I see. Well,' I say, 'I don't think there's any point in trying to
argue with you, is there, Andy?'
'No, you're probably right,' Andy says, suddenly all cheery decisiveness. He
slaps both knees and jumps up. He lifts the gun and sticks it down the back of
his cords. He hoists the rucksack up and puts it over one shoulder. He nods
down at the cellphone lying on the concrete floor.
'Here's your choice,' he tells me. 'Phone and turn me in, or not.'
He waits for a reaction from me, so I raise my eyebrows.
He shrugs. 'I'm heading down to the boat now; put the kit bag aboard.' He
grins down at me. Take your time. I'll be back in ten, fifteen minutes.'
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[1/19/03 9:57:01 PM]
Complicity
I stare at the phone on the littered floor.
'It's working,' he reassures me. 'Your choice.' He laughs. 'I'll be all right,
whatever. Leave me be, and ... I
don't know; I might retire now, while I'm ahead. But on the other hand there [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]