Nightside 11 - A Hard Days Knight

hard.”
    “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.
    “Wherever you’ve been, it would seem to have agreed with you, Mr. Taylor. You are looking very well. One might even say prosperous. Do you by any chance have the money you owe?”
    “Not on me, no.”
    “Oh dear. I would have to say, that is most unfortunate, Mr. Taylor. Though after all these years, I would have to say that even if you did have the money, it would not be enough. It’s the interest, you see. The emotional interest; it accumulates. Certain people are very angry with you, Mr. Taylor. You are the one who got away. The one who set a bad example ...”
    “Why are you here, Russell?” I said, interrupting a flow that threatened to go on forever. “I mean, even I didn’t know I was coming here. It can’t be a coincidence, you turning up like this.”
    “Hardly, Mr. Taylor. Certain people have kept this place empty, but observed, all these years. In case you showed up again.”
    “Oh, come on,” I said. “I didn’t owe that much.”
    “You made certain people very angry, Mr. Taylor,” Russell said simply. “It’s no longer about the money; it’s the vengeance. No-one can be allowed to get away with defying the men in charge. It’s just not done. It might give people ideas.”
    “Well,” I said, “I’m glad I achieved something while I was here. But having given the matter some thought, I would have to say that I don’t give a wet fart what the men in charge want.”
    “They have been watching and waiting for years, Mr. Taylor, on the chance ... And here you are! Back again, after all this time. Certain people are going to be very happy about that.”
    “People have been watching my old office for years? Why?”
    “For the reward, Mr. Taylor.”
    “There’s a price on my head? I feel strangely flattered. How big a reward?”
    “A significant amount, Mr. Taylor. In fact, I would have to say, quite a substantial reward.”
    I looked at him thoughtfully. “Is that why you’re here, Russell? So soon after my return? For the reward money?”
    “Not exactly, Mr. Taylor. But you know how it is ... And if I’m here, others won’t be far behind.”
    “How long have I got, before word gets out?”
    He smiled for the first time. “They’re already here, Mr. Taylor.”
    I moved quickly over to the barred window and looked out at the street below. Several cars were parked outside that hadn’t been there before, and more were arriving. Car doors slammed loudly as armed men spilled out onto the street. They didn’t care if I knew they were there. The trap had been sprung. The men in the street were large men, serious men with serious intent. They carried their guns like they knew how to use them. I was flattered they saw me as such a dangerous threat. Everyone else was quietly disappearing off the street, including the homeless. None of them wanted to be witnesses to whatever was about to happen. Being a witness wasn’t good for your continued health.
    I smiled down at the men milling outside the building. It had been a long time since anyone had come after me with only guns to back them up. But, of course, these people only knew the old me, from when I was still hiding my gift under a bushel. I looked forward to disillusioning them. Still, given the sheer number of hard men who’d turned up, it would seem Russell was right when he mentioned a substantial reward. I turned back to look at Russell. He hadn’t moved—a small grey presence in a half-lit room.
    “It occurs to me,” I said, “that the reward isn’t for money returned but for me personally. Somebody wants to lay hands on me, and not in a good way.”
    “Somebody bears a grudge, Mr. Taylor. Someone wants you to pay, in blood and suffering.”
    There was a gun in his hand, pointing at me. I was actually shocked. I’d never seen Russell with a gun, in all the time he’d worked for me. But the gun didn’t look out of place. Something in the way Russell held his gun told me he was used to it.
    “You never used to like shooters, Russell,” I said reproachfully. “You were never a violent man. First out the pub door when the fight started. What happened?”
    “You happened, Mr. Taylor.” He was aiming his gun at a spot directly above my groin. A disabling shot but not a deadly one. He didn’t want me dead. Not yet. Which gave me the advantage even if he didn’t realise it. I raised an eyebrow, to indicate that he should continue, and he