Cut And Run by Hilton Matt

Author:Hilton, Matt [Hilton, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Crime, Thriller
ISBN: 9780062079947
Google: Za0ESAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0062079948
Barnesnoble: 0062079948
Goodreads: 7989663
Publisher: Harper
Published: 2010-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Escaping from the police cordon was his first priority. Everything else could come later. Rickard dumped the Ford Taurus at an underpass beneath Route 95, then walked out and into an industrial estate struggling to remain viable in the current market but falling into decay. He left behind all but his own gun and knife. During the gun battle he’d used up all the ammunition for the Glock 18: he’d have liked to hold on to it for a little longer, but in the circumstances it was simply dead weight. At the very most his own gun held four rounds and he knew he’d have to rectify that soon.

At a mail forwarding depot, he ducked inside the nearest door and found a woman sitting behind a desk. She was surprised by his sudden appearance and had to put away the gossip magazine she was reading. Evidently she didn’t get too many visitors in a day. She definitely wasn’t the public face of the company, dressed as she was in a dull grey sweatshirt and matching pants, her brown hair scraped back into a ponytail held in place with a rubber band. The polish on her nails was chipped and stained by the cigarette wedged between her pinched lips.

She squinted up at him. ‘Sorry. We don’t allow personal pick-ups from the office.’

‘I’m not here to pick anything up,’ Rickard grunted. He looked round the office, his eyes drifting over the faded posters to the open door into a small warehouse. There appeared to be nobody else there.

‘You want to send something, you have to do it via a carrier.’ She took the cigarette out of her mouth, flicked ash into a ringed coffee mug. Then she stuck the cigarette back between her lips and sat staring up at him through the smoke.

Rickard ignored her and reached over her desk. He grabbed hold of her handbag and dragged it towards him. The woman lunged for the bag, digging her nails into his hands. She let out a shout of outrage but still managed to hold on to the cigarette like it was fused to her lip. Rickard wrenched loose, scowling at the scratches in his flesh. He’d just fought a gun battle, killed six or so people without a scratch, and now this?

‘You shouldn’t have done that.’

The woman clawed at her bag again but Rickard snatched it out of her way. He dug inside it. Came out empty. He upended the contents on her desk.

‘Where are the keys to your car?’

‘You’re not having them. Get out now before I call the police.’ The woman made to drag her personal belongings across the desk. Among the dross was a mobile phone. As she did, Rickard grabbed her by her hair, using the tail at the back to twist her head sharply on one side.

‘Where are your keys, bitch?’ From his belt he drew the ceramic knife and thumbed it open. He placed the point as close to her right eye as possible without blinding her.

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