Smokeheads by Doug Johnstone Page B

than that.’ He turned to Grant. ‘Don’t you think they can do better than that?’
    ‘Maybe they don’t want to live,’ said Grant, smiling at Molly.
    ‘Christ,’ said Molly. ‘You’re a regular Morecambe and Wise, you pair.’
    Joe ignored her and turned to Luke. ‘What’s the deal with you? Strong silent type?’
    Luke gave a blank stare.
    ‘Nothing?’ said Joe. ‘Not even to plead for your life?’
    ‘You’re not going to let us go,’ Luke said.
    Joe clapped sarcastically. ‘Quite right. At least one of you cunts knows what’s going on.’
    ‘Look,’ said Adam. ‘You can let us go. We won’t tell anyone about this place, I promise. Three of us will be off the island in hours anyway, and I’m sure Molly just wants to be left alone.’

    Joe laughed hard. ‘Didn’t you learn anything from Quiet Boy over there? We’re not letting you go. Then again, maybe I’m just saying that so you beg and plead and demean yourselves, then I’ll let you go. Or maybe kill you. Life’s complicated, isn’t it, Grant?’
    ‘These cunts have no idea how complicated it is,’ said Grant.
    ‘I’m confused,’ said Roddy, recovering composure. ‘Which one of you is the good cop? This is more of an “arse cop, twat cop” routine.’
    Joe turned to Grant. ‘He’s funny, isn’t he?’
    ‘He thinks he is, but he’s wrong.’
    ‘Let’s turn out their pockets, see what we’ve got.’
    Grant went through their pockets, dumping everything in a pile on the floor. Mobiles, keys, wallets, money, the Viagras from Adam’s pocket, a notebook of Luke’s and Roddy’s coke tin.
    ‘What have we here?’ said Grant, picking up the Viagras.
    Joe turned to Adam. ‘Problems getting it up, eh?’
    ‘They’re not mine.’
    ‘And yet they were in your pocket. Guess how many times I’ve heard that down at the station?’ He turned to Molly. ‘You hooked up with Mr Floppy here yet? I never had any trouble in that department, eh, love?’
    ‘Piss off.’
    Joe picked up the coke case and opened it. ‘Shit, there’s enough in here to fuel the whole of celebrity London.’
    ‘Personal use,’ said Roddy.
    ‘Like fuck, this is ten times what we need to do you for dealing Class As.’

    ‘Double A, more like,’ said Roddy. ‘That’s none of your usual Colombian crap cut to fuck, that shit is purest Bolivian medical-research grade.’
    Joe tapped a line onto his hand and snorted.
    ‘Hey,’ said Roddy.
    ‘Fuck me,’ said Joe, eyes like saucers.
    He passed the tin to Grant who copied him.
    ‘Holy shit,’ said Grant, wiping his nose.
    Joe shook his head as if trying to dislodge something. ‘I guess being a hedge fund cunt has its advantages.’ He looked at Roddy. ‘But I don’t suppose it really prepares you for situations like this.’
    ‘You really don’t have to do all this,’ said Adam. ‘You’re digging a hole for yourselves.’
    Joe sauntered over and casually kneed Adam in the face, sending his head slamming into the cask behind him.
    ‘Jesus wept,’ said Adam.
    ‘The only holes we’ll be digging are the ones we need to hide your bodies.’
    Molly shook her head. ‘What happened to you, Joe?’
    Joe stopped in his tracks and turned. ‘What?’
    Molly sighed. ‘You weren’t always like this or I wouldn’t have married you, would I? Don’t you remember what it was like in the beginning between us?’
    Joe rolled his eyes. ‘Spare me the amateur psychology lesson, darling.’
    ‘Do you think your dad would’ve been proud of how you turned out?’
    ‘Where do you think I learned how to become such a bastard?’

    ‘You don’t have to repeat his mistakes.’
    ‘I don’t have to, but it turns out it’s fun.’
    ‘What about your mum, then?’
    ‘You leave Mum out of it.’
    ‘How would she feel about all this?’
    Joe walked towards Molly with a strange look on his face, then hesitated.
    ‘I know things didn’t work out with us,’ said Molly. ‘Our plans for a family and