Shooting in the Dark

she rearranged the cigarette between them. She sucked in and the flame bent towards her, her eyelids fluttered and she held his gaze for a moment before blowing out the smoke and enshrouding them both in a halo of sweet nicotine.
    ‘Ta,’ she said, pulling out the vowel, holding his eyes.
    ‘What you called?’ he asked.
    ‘Ramona.’
    ‘You on your own?’
    She nodded. ‘Want some company?’
    He asked her how much it was going to cost and she reeled off a price list. Ralph didn’t take it in, having no intention of paying. He liked the look of the goods, though. ‘Sounds about right,’ he said.
    ‘I don’t do rough stuff,’ she told him. ‘If you want that, I’ve got a friend.’
    ‘No. You’ll do nicely.’
    He went with her to a flat in Walmgate, feeling good all the way. She linked her arm in his and laughed at his jokes. Ralph was into simple pleasures; it didn’t take a lot to make him happy. If the day was going well, that suited him fine. And today was running on schedule.
    He could imagine this tart was Janet. About the same size, tight little body and good legs. He’d have to ignore the red hair, the Birmingham accent. Close his eyes, filter out the bits he didn’t want, filter in the fantasy.
    ‘The cash up front,’ she said.
    Ralph laughed. He took her forcibly on the narrow divan. When he pinned her arms behind her back she began to protest but he gave her the look and she shut it. When he’d finished he was still hard and he flipped her over on to her face and went in the other way.
    ‘I don’t do that,’ she said, twisting her head around, trying to wriggle away from him. Ralph put the pillow over her head and pushed down with both hands, thrusting with his hips.
    ‘Jesus, Janet,’ he said as he juddered to a climax, his back arched like a performing seal.
    ‘You bastard,’ said Ramona, emerging from under the pillow. Her make-up was streaked and her hair and face were dripping with sweat. ‘You could’ve suffocated me.’
    ‘I still might,’ he said, pulling himself out of her and rolling over on to his back. ‘If you don’t keep quiet.’
    ‘You owe me,’ she said.
    Ralph ignored her, reached for his jacket and lit up a fag.
    Ramona got to her feet and went through to the bathroom. He put one arm behind his head and smoked and listened to the shower cascading against the tiles. Why pay? he thought. What’s she gonna do about it?
    He stubbed out the cigarette and dressed. He was stepping out of the room when Ramona came back. ‘Where’s my money?’ she said.
    Ralph smiled, showing the gap where his teeth used to be. ‘Sue me,’ he said. He stepped through the door and closed it behind him. He walked down the short staircase, the smile in place, glad the day was still working for him.
    When he reached the front door it was locked. He turned quickly, sensing something behind him, and was faced by two men. The first was small with narrow eyes and carefully coiffed dark hair, couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and around fifty kilos. No problemo. But the other one was different. He wore a double-breasted striped suit that could only have been bought at High & Mighty. He had lost all the hair off the top of his head and was left with a cropped border like a monk. There was nothing pious about him, his main feature being a scar of tissue where he must once have had an eye. He had a cricket bat cradled in his arms, but he didn’t look the sporting type.
    There was a movement at the top of the stairs and they all looked up at Ramona as she came to the banister. She wore a black silk slip and fluffy mules on her feet.
    ‘How was it, babe?’ the little guy asked.
    ‘He doesn’t wanna pay,’ she said. ‘And he fucking hurt me.’
    ‘No problem,’ Ralph said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. ‘Nothing we can’t sort out, fellers.’ He tried to smile but his top lip seemed to have a mind of its own and he couldn’t get it lined up.
    The young guy plucked the wallet out of his hand and threw it into a corner of the hall, then the two of them rushed him. He saw the cricket bat coming for the side of his head and ducked, but while he was going down he realized he’d misjudged. It caught him on the ear and the jaw at the same time and he went deaf and watched an arc of blood explode and leave his body. Perfect really, he thought, as he rolled over on to his back. Just one blow and all the fight was knocked out of him.
    They frisked him,