The Killing Ground

“But I bet he hasn’t entirely given up his old ways, has he?”

“Of course not. Action is the juice of life to a man like him. It’s the game that appeals. He’s not rubbish, he’s got balls and brains and in his time, he’s killed. He’s got a nephew, Billy, who’s a younger version. So, what about him?”

“I want you to start giving Salter a bad time, as a favor to a broker friend of mine. Eventually, we’re going to eliminate him, but we’re going to work up to it, let him think about it a bit. We’ll start with that fancy restaurant of his, Harry’s Place. A lot of rich people go there-they wouldn’t like it if their cars got messed up; it would be very bad for business, you know what I mean?”

“When do you want this?”

“Right now. Sudden blitz, so that he knows whoever did it means it. A hunting party will do. Five or six top men.”

“My pleasure.”

Chekov finished his whiskey. “Have another.”

“No. I’d rather get moving. There are people I’ll need to talk to.”

“Good.”

They hadn’t mentioned money. It was not necessary. Stransky went out and Chekov called the waitress over. “Large whiskey, my love. I’ll have the expensive stuff this time, the Highland Special that’s eight hundred pounds a shot.”

Outside the hotel on the left-hand side were private limousines waiting, their chauffeurs chatting beside them, and Stransky’s own Mer-cedes was there, his driver, a hard-looking young man called Bikov, standing by it smoking a cigarette. “Get in.” Stransky opened the rear door.

“What’s up, boss?” Bikov demanded.

“Café Rosa, quickly. Will Makeev and the boys still be there?”

“Sure. They’re having a card school tonight.”

“I need five, maybe six of them.”

“Trouble?”

“No, to make trouble. You know Harry Salter?”

“Of course I do.”

“That restaurant of his, Harry’s Place-Chekov wants it messed up good. Let’s see if Makeev and his boys are interested.”

“For Chekov? You won’t have to ask twice.”

BEHIND THE BAR at the Dark Man, Ruby called to Harry, who was sitting in a booth. Joe Baxter and Sam Hall were propping up the bar behind him.

“It’s thi

She came round the bar in a demure white blouse and a black velvet skirt and shoes to die for.

“Bleeding marvelous,” Harry said and turned to his minders. “Isn’t she?”

“Absolutely, Harry,” they chorused.

“Right, let’s check how things are going at Harry’s Place. Leave the Aston, we’ll go in the Shogun.” He handed Ruby in and followed her.

“I’m really looking forward to this,” Ruby said. “I was begi

“Don’t be silly, girl, we just haven’t had the opportunity. Anyway, you look like a princess. Doesn’t she look like a princess, boys?”

“A queen, Harry,” Baxter said.

“Get stuffed,” Ruby told him and leaned back. “I wonder how it’s going in Hazar?”

“We’ll know soon enough, girl, but one thing’s for sure, if anybody can handle it, Dillon and Billy can.” He leaned forward and said to Baxter, “Are we tooled up?”

Baxter dropped a hidden flap. “The Colt twenty-fives, just like you said, boss, two of them.”

“Guns, Harry?” Ruby was shocked. “Is that necessary?”

“There are fu

Sam Hall pulled in outside the warehouse Salter had transformed into Harry’s Place, a red neon sign above the door and a queue outside. Two young black men in di

“The Harker twins,” Harry told Ruby.

Baxter and Hall took the Shogun to the car park, and Harry and Ruby walked along the side of the queue. They found five youths in black leather pushing and shoving, alarming people ahead of them.

Ruby said, “They’re Russians, Harry. I used to serve a lot like that at the old pub.”

They were, in fact, Makeev and four of his friends, who’d been hired by Stransky as ordered.

“Here, you bleeding well cut it out,” Harry told them.

They jeered in good Cockney English, “Who the hell are you, her father?”

He handed Ruby up the steps, where one of the Harker twins apologized profusely. “Sorry, boss, real sorry and more bad news. Big Ivan Stransky and another guy came in just before these guys turned up.”

Baxter and Hall arrived on the run and ranged themselves beside the Harkers, making a formidable barrier. Harry said, “Don’t let them in. We’ll see what Stransky wants.”

He held out his hand, Baxter slipped a Colt.25 into it and Harry took Ruby’s arm as Fernando, the headwaiter, appeared, full of apologies.

“Not needed,” Harry said. “This is Mrs. Moon. Take us to my table.” He added to Baxter and Hall, “You come with us.”

The place was rather pretty, in an Art Deco style, with a cocktail bar, small, intimate tables, a dance floor, a trio playing music of the Cole Porter variety. Harry’s table was in a booth with mirrors behind it and Baxter and Hall stood one on each side.

A waiter in a white waistcoat with brass buttons who had responded to Harry’s nod brought a large brandy and ginger ale for him and a champagne cocktail for Ruby.

“I thought you should have a champagne cocktail on your first visit.”

“It’s lovely,” she said. “What’s that?”

“Brandy and ginger ale. They call it a Horse’s Neck.”

“I wonder why?”

“Doesn’t really matter, Ruby-it’s a British thing. We’re fu

He took his drink straight down and nodded to the waiter, then folded his arms as Stransky, Bikov behind him, came down the steps from the bar and crossed the dance floor toward them.

“Nice little place you’ve got, Harry,” Stransky said.

“Mr. Salter to you. Now what can I do for you and the fairy prince here?”

Bikov’s hand went in his pocket, his face tightened, but Sam Hall stepped close and slipped his hand in the same pocket. “Gawd bless me, but someone’s got a big one.” He produced a Smith amp; Wesson Bankers Special and put it on the table in front of Harry.

“A little old-fashioned,” Harry said. “Bloody rude bringing it in at all, ladies present and so on.”

Stransky looked around. “Ladies? I don’t see any ladies.” He smiled at Ruby. “Of course, I don’t count the whore here.”

“She’s got more class than you any day, you fat pig.”

Stransky stopped smiling. “You’ll be sorry you said that, Salter, and when you’re gone”-he laughed out loud, reached over and patted Ruby’s face-“we’ll see.”

“Outside,” Harry told him.

“What an excellent idea. Come on, Bikov,” and they went.

“What do you think, boss?” Baxter said.

“They’ll be up to no good outside with that bunch he brought along.” He sighed. “I’m really getting too old for this. Let’s go out and see what they’re up to. You stay, Ruby love.”

“Not bloody likely.”

“All right, then stay by the door. Just be a good girl. I told Billy I’d look after you.”

“What a liar you are, Harry Salter.” She took his arm and the whole group left. “There was a story about you going the rounds year before last when the Franconi twins were ru

“God was on my side,” he told her cheerfully. “The guy got the timer wrong and it blew up before Billy and I got there.”

“And is it true the Franconis are in cement on the North Circular Road?”

“Ruby, love, do I look like I’d do a thing like that?”

Outside, the queue had gone and it was quiet, only the sound of the trio playing “Night and Day” drifting out. “What’s happening?” Harry asked the Harkers.