Page 11 of The Professor
“Yeah, that wasn’t polite?” Grant was at my side.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ray Icke shoved his hand into his pocket. “Get off my turf.”
“Your turf?” I said. “Sounds like you could get us some weed, eh?”
“I told you, fuck off. I’m closed for the day.”
“Ah, that’s a problem,” I said. “’Cause we’re not closed.” I didn’t give him time to withdraw a weapon, just threw a left hook at his chin and sent his head snapping backward.
Blood spurted to the right, and his eyes widened. My speed had surprised him.
And Grant was equally quick. He grabbed Ray’s arm and dragged him into the alley so we could have some privacy.
“Get the hell off me. Don’t you know who I am? You’re dealing with the real fucking deal here and—”
“Shut the hell up, Ray Icke.” Dalton delivered a blow to Ray’s guts, doubling him over.
“Argh.” He groaned and staggered backward then hit the damp brick wall. “How do you know my…?”
“Name?” I asked, shoving my hand into his pocket and withdrawing a handgun. “How the hell do you think we know?”
“I don’t fucking know, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.” He straightened and glared at me.
“Okay, so how about the names of the women you’ve murdered and raped, remember them?” I studied his gun; it wasnice. Perhaps I’d use that to kill him, save using up one of my own bullets.
“I didn’t murder or rape no one. Those charges were dropped.” He managed to look indignant despite his precarious position in a dark alley with three big guys who had come searching for him.
“Ah, I see.” I nodded slowly. “You think because your clever lawyer created some reasonable doubt and you employed a dash of witness intimidation you got away with it.”
“Nothing to fucking get away with. I’m innocent.”
“Is that so?” Dalton asked. “So how come we don’t believe you? How come our own investigations say otherwise?”
“Fuck your investigations, they don’t mean shit.”
“They do when we believe them, when a whole group of us believe the facts and can see the lies.”
“A whole group of you? What are you? Some kind of vigilante wannabes?”
“Got it in one.” I raised his own gun so it was pointed at his chest. “You’re smart as well as a fucking asshole.”
“I’ve had enough of this shit, it’s been a long day.” He glanced in the direction of the street. “Get out of my way.”
“You’ll go when we say you can.” Dalton was blocking his way, also holding a gun now.
“Yeah, we still got questions,” Grant said, his gun flashing in the shadows.
Ray’s eyes were wide and his shoulders tense, but he still tried to maintain an air of cool. “Look, guys, sorry about the time thing, yeah, I’m fucking knackered, and if you want some weed I’ll go get it now. I’m only a few streets from my pad.”
“We don’t really want weed.” Dalton shrugged.
“And we’ve all got really nice watches.” Grant flashed him his Rolex.
“So what do you want?”
“We want justice, we want what those women’s families want, to see you dead and buried and rotting. Not a breath of air in your lungs, not a lying word left in your sorry mouth.”
“I’ve got a kid, okay, and a woman.”
