Chapter Four - 'Rough Diamond' Part Four

Stretched out full length on the couch, Katya holds a book perched on her lap, but so far, she’s been reading the same page for the last twenty minutes. And covertly, she’s watching me.

“Is there something I can do for you, Miss Masterson?”

She sighs, flipping the book closed. “I was just wondering about you, that’s all.”

“Me? What about me?”

“Don’t you find this a bit tedious? Ferrying me around. Fetching and carrying for me. Babysitting me…” She swings her head. “… A man like you. Capable. Strong. I’d have thought you wanted…” She flounders…

I paste on my straightest face. “Wanted what?”

She spreads palms. “I don’t know. More…”

I suck in a smile. “Mr Romano has assigned me as your bodyguard. He wants you safe. I'm a man doing the job he’s paid for.”

“And you don’t find that boring?”

I allow my smile to come out and play. “It’s sometimes said that there are only two kinds of jobs. Miserable jobs that pay badly and miserable jobs that pay well.”

She huffs a laugh. “And what do I qualify as?”

“The third kind. An enjoyable job that pays well.”

Now she blinks. “So… is there a Mrs Hickman out there? Or some mini-Hickmans?”

“Mrs Hickman? No. Why would you ask?”

“Girlfriend? Or a… would-be Mrs Hickman?”

I draw in breath. “You must realise, Miss Masterson, my work can be dangerous. I prefer to keep my… social life, uncomplicated.”

Her head swings, slowly, left to right and back. “So… you’re not interested in a long-term relationship at all? You have a social life, surely? You can’t work all the time. And you don’t strike me as one of life’s natural monks.”

Crap…

I palm the back of my neck. “What kind of life could I give a woman? Doing what I do. I'd make a terrible husband.”

Taking a moment to choose my words, I look away. Inhale. Blow air. “Miss Masterson, you’re an intelligent woman…” I level a finger at her…

“… You know the sort of man Leone Romano is. You may have chosen to be his mistress, for whatever reason, but you do know what he is. The events in the restaurant only underlined the people and activities he’s involved with.”

She shuffles, looking uncomfortable. Resentful even, “I’m neither blind nor stupid.”

“So, therefore, you know what I am. You think Romano would entrust you to my care if he didn’t know he can rely on me to do what was necessary, whatever was necessary, to protect you? With or without direct orders from him.”

Impatience bites at her face. “So, what’s your point?”

“Miss Masterson… Who would want to be my partner? What woman would want to be with me once she realised what I do for a living?”

Her brow furrows. “But what do you want?”

Heat rises up my neck. “I don't want to be tied at the hip to a woman I have to lie to about what I am.” Understanding blooms over her face like an unfurling flower. “I can't commit. I can't promise to spend all my time with a woman, or to be a good husband. I can't promise to be a good father either, or even to survive long enough to try. If I can't make those kinds of promises, how could I ask any woman to be close to me? Or to have children with me? It simply wouldn’t be fair.”

Puffing out her cheeks, she nods. “Yes, I get that.” Something crosses her face. “You're a good man, Hickman.”

“I'm a gun for hire.”

She shrugs. “As you say… Hickman…”

“Hmmm?”

She inhales. “I think you'd make a wonderful husband.”

My heart bangs.

***

Katya’s mobile rings. She smiles as Romano’s avatar flashes up. “Leo. Darling. It’s lovely to hear from you.” Tipping her head in apology to me, she cups her hand to her mouth, turning away as she speaks.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Masterson...” I make for the kitchenette, as much because I’m ready for a coffee as to give her the privacy she clearly wants.

I spoon grinds into the filter, snatches of conversation drifting through… “Yes, my Love, he’s been taking very good care of me… An absolute gentleman…”

Flushing a bit, I click on the switch, but even over the hiss of steam, the words carry through…

“Yes, I will… Of course… I love you too. I’ll see you soon, I hope?”

As coffee trickles into the cup, she’s stopped talking and I stick my head around the door. “Miss Masterson, how would you like your coffee?”

“Is a cappuccino possible?”

“I’m sure it is. Give me a minute.” I put milk on to heat, then work through drawers and cupboards for a whisk.

From the back of my pants, my mobile vibes. Again, Romano’s avatar. I tap in. “Sir?”

“Hickman, where are you?”

“In the kitchenette of the hotel suite, sir. Miss Masterson is in the lounge where she was just speaking to you from.”

“She’s not in the room with you?”

“No, sir. She’s next door. I’m just making coffee.”

“Fine. Hickman, listen carefully. This evening, take her out to wherever she wants to eat. Get her out and well away from the hotel. Make it quick. I’d prefer she doesn’t suffer. Ideally, I don’t want her to know it’s coming. Get rid of the body afterwards.”

My mind blanks out. “My apologies, sir. The connection’s not very good. Could you repeat that.”

His voice grates. “You heard me the first time, Hickman. Do it this evening. No links to the hotel and certainly no links back to me. No one knows you’re there. Do it and get out. I don’t want the body found afterwards. She simply disappears. Got that?”

My mouth and reflexes freeze over before I recover enough to lower my voice. “Sir, can I ring you back in a minute or two? She’s next door, but the words carry.”

“Call right back, Hickman. I’ll be waiting.”

Stomach churning, I stuff the mobile back into my pocket. Whisking up hot milk, I tip it in, half-and-half. The cup rattles in the saucer as I take it through. “Your coffee, Miss Masterson.”

She smiles as she accepts the cup. “Hickman, call me Katya. Miss Masterson is a bit of a mouthful if we’re going to be spending any amount of time together.”

At any other moment, an invitation to be on first name terms would make me smile. Right now, my stomach roils.

She tips a look over the cup. “Join me?”

“I’ll have a shower first. Wash off the journey.”

“Fine.” She sips at the coffee. “You were right, Hickman. I should relax.” Her smile brightens. “I feel so much better knowing you’re here. Knowing that Leone trusts you.” She sips again. “You make good coffee.” She glances to the window. “You know, it’s a lovely day. I think I’ll sit out on the balcony.”

My throat is tight. “Good idea. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Marching through my room to the en-suite, I set the bath running. The basin faucet too. Flushing adds to the background noise. The water echoing against enamel, I glance outside the door to see Katya sitting outside, her back to me.

I draw a breath. Hold it. Then, letting it out again, I tap into my phone. “Sir, do I understand you correctly? You are instructing me to terminate Miss Masterson?”

“That's correct, Hickman.” A pause… “Do you have a difficulty with that? I’m paying you to obey orders.”

My mind races…

Agree with him…

For fuck’s sake, agree with him…

“Of course, sir…”

Romano’s still talking. “I want those diamonds she’s wearing. And I’ll repeat, the body mustn’t be found.”

“I’ll see to it, sir.”

Another pause. “You don’t sound too sure, Hickman.”

“You’ve… caught me by surprise, sir. May I ask…?” My words dry up.

“We had a spy in the camp. Guess who it’s turned out to be? She had me fooled. Turns out she’s working for Mancini. She told him where we’d be and when. Set me up for him to turn his gunmen on me.”

He’s almost spitting the words. “If the bitch wants to play those sorts of games, she can pay the same price as anyone else.”

“You’re sure of this, sir?”

“Our fake waiter, he was sure. I interrogated him myself. Worked him long enough to be sure he was telling the truth.”

“I see, sir.”

“Hickman, you sound very uncertain. You got any problems with this?”

“Murdering a woman, sir…”

“She’s a whore being paid by Mancini to earn her living on her back. It was Katya who told him we’d be at La Dolce Vita. And she’s been passing him other information. This is an execution, not a murder.”

“As you say, sir.”

The huff of air is audible even over the phone. “Hickman, I don’t like your tone. Do the job, then get back here. Bring the diamonds with you. And I want proof you’ve followed my instructions.”

“Proof? But you said wanted the body to disappear.”

“That’s right...” He falls silent for several seconds. “Bring me that tattoo she has on the back of her neck.”

Parroting the words, “The tattoo, sir?”

“That’s right. It’s unique. Slice off the skin and bring it back with you. A little memento of my traitorous ex-lover.”

My mouth is dry. My tongue spongy. “Yes, sir.”

“And call me tonight when it’s done.”

“Yes, sir.”

The line disconnects and I sag down onto the edge of the bath, my mind whirling.

Murder her?

Murder Katya?

Spy in the camp?

?

No…

?

Surely not?

It doesn’t feel right.

My gut says it’s not right.

Turning off the water, I ease the door open an inch or so. Katya’s still out on the balcony, the coffee cup cradled in her palm and, eyes closed, her face raised to the sun.

Perching on the side of the bath, I scrub hands over my face.

In La Dolce Vita, what happened?

What actually happened?

The gunman, down, aiming upwards… Aiming for Romano…

Was he aiming for Romano?

Think…

The line of sight…

Where was he trying to aim?

Romano’s face morphing from anger to surprise to wide-eyed shock…

… grabbing hold of Katya, holding her for a frozen moment then diving, taking her with him…

Frozen?

Was he really frozen?

Then, outside…

The sniper, firing at us.

Us…

Me and Katya…

If the assassin worked for Mancini, why would he fire at his own informer?

?

Getting rid of the evidence?

The sniper said he never saw who hired him… It was done by message…

The message…

And I’ve still got the phone…

What did I do with it?

A moment’s thought then I stroll back into the lounge where my jacket hangs over the back of a chair. Retrieving the sniper’s cell, I tap in the PIN, tap into the messages then scroll through.

la dolce vita 1pm tues take the woman. M

The screen displays the contact as ‘Mancini’, but my antennae waving, I tap through again…

… and stare at the number displayed.

I know it well. Romano just called me on it.

It was a set-up.

The whole fucking thing was a set-up.

A performance.

Calculated to see Katya murdered and lay the blame elsewhere.

But…

Why?

Why would he do this?

And why would he send me to do this?

Romano…

He pays me to do his dirty work, but this turns my stomach.

***