Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“What?” asks a stunned Danny.
“Alec,” Christine begins.
“The fuck you will!” exclaims Eliza.
“No way, bruv,” Russell contributes.
“That’s my brother and my niece, mate,” the recently confirmed Brenden adds.
“Listen, listen, listen,” I say, trying to placate everyone, “please.” It’s the ‘please’ that stops the escalating caterwaul. It is very much unlike me to say that word and even less like me to say it in the form of a request. It wasn’t even a deliberate tactic or an intentional manipulation this time. It was spontaneous. And I meant it. I’m as amazed as anyone. “This is my responsibility. I created this. All of it. None of this would be happening were it not for me. And, as we’ve seen, this Brasil fokker has no compunction about behaving in an extreme manner. His denial that he has absconded with Theo and the girl—”
“The girl?” Eliza interjects, but I can’t get derailed by that just now, so I continue.
“—coupled with his lack of anything resembling a motive or demands would suggest that he might be, in fact, a lunatic. Danny? Is this oke a proper madman?”
“Fuck, dude. Compared to who?”
“Reasonable. So… can we not all agree that the best way to fight fire is with a nuclear blast?” No one answers. It’s possible I’m not making much sense, but I’m doing what I feel I need to do, so I don’t let that dissuade me. “I believe we need to see it the following way: If I go to meet him alone and I’m able to successfully ferret out the specifics of what’s at play here and retrieve the abducted Watsons, then everyone wins. If I’m not, then you’ll all still be here with bargaining chips on the table. And, in either case, there is a non-zero chance that somebody is going to get killed.”
I take a moment to look around at the assembly. I take an extra moment to let my eyes linger on Danny and Christine.
“And if that is to be the case,” I say, “that somebody should be me.”
“Bro,” Danny begins. I knew he would and I’ll let him get it all out. But it won’t change my mind. “Bro,” he repeats, “Brasil is my problem. I owe the fucker.”
“I know he betrayed you. I know he did. I know he lied to you and all that, but…” I pause for effect. Old habits die hard. “You were originally planning to hand me over to him anyway, weren’t you? It’s what he wanted, yes?”
Danny breathes in, shakes his head, says, “Alec, that was—”
“No, I know,” I cut him off. “That was before. And, y’know, no hard feelings and all that. Water under the Sam Thompson Bridge. As it were.” I try for a smile, but fear it comes over as a grimace. Fine. Either would be called for.
“Alec,” he starts again. And once again I cut him off.
“He killed my brother, Danny.”
Danny looks at Christine, who shrugs and shakes her head a bit.
“Dude,” Danny says. I wait for more, but there isn’t any.
I smile at my dear, sweet Danny Fortnight. Danny Fortnight, who I met in a boxing gym more than half my life ago. Danny Fortnight, the most honorable man I have ever known. I’ll grant that he’s not up against particularly stiff competition in that regard, but still, it’s true. “I’ll be fine, Danny. It’s all going to be aces, man.”
I have no idea if that’s a statement of fact and, indeed, the opposite is likely, but it’s far from the worst lie I’ve ever told.
Danny sighs out multiple times through his nose as he looks around, shaking his head. After a moment, I say—
“Good. It’s settled then.”
But not quite, I realize. Because as I turn and see Eliza, who is staring at me with a look of glacial inscrutability, I recognize that she has every reason to question both my motives and the wisdom of allowing me to go off by my lonesome. But…
“It should be me,” I repeat.
There is a lengthy moment of silence in which everyone looks at me and then at one another. After another beat, I glance at my watch.
“Twenty-five minutes,” I say.
A collective sigh circles the group like a wave encircling the stadium at a Springboks match. Russell reaches into his pocket and withdraws the keys to the van, hands them out to me.
“Seriously?” Eliza asks.
“He ain’t wrong, Lize,” says Russell. “Mostly about if anyone winds up duppy, it should definitely be him. Who’s gon’ argue with that?”
I take the keys from his hand. Eliza steps into me. Quite close indeed.
“Either come back with my child or do not come back,” she hisses.
“That is the plan. That is the plan.”
She takes a moment before saying, “I don’t understand you. At all.”
I look at her and then over at Christine and Danny once more. They’re looking at me with equal amounts of befuddlement. Then I look back at Eliza.