The Lipstick Killers

her weapon. ‘What now?’ said Margaret, going to the window but keeping well out of sight.
    Outside, she saw a Land Rover parked next to Mahoney and Frankie’s cars. A man she’d never seen before was outside holding Frankie tightly with a gun pressed to her head.
    ‘Christ,’ she said, feeling the familiar irritation. ‘Can’t that bloody sister of mine do anything right.’
    ‘You inside,’ shouted the man. ‘Come out, hands raised. All of you. The children too.’
    ‘Come on,’ said Margaret to Mahoney. ‘Do as he says.’
    The four left the house and walked down the path.
    ‘Where’s the rest?’ demanded the man. ‘My mates.’
    ‘Didn’t make it,’ said Margaret.
    ‘Who the fuck are you?’ said the man.
    ‘My sisters,’ said Frankie.
    ‘A couple of birds, I don’t believe this. So what’s stopping me killing all of you?’
    Suddenly Saint Cyr jumped up from the side of Mahoney’s car. ‘Don’t shoot her,’ he yelled. ‘She’s got the…’
    The armed man turned his gun on him, and as he did so, Roxie pulled the .38 from the back of her jeans and, just like she’d done in Spain to Tony, shot him on the eye.
    He dropped like a stone, but as he did so he pulled the trigger of his gun, the bullet flying off to take Saint Cyr in the chest.
    The tableau was silent for a moment, then Frankie said, her voice wavering, ‘Thank you Roxie. You saved my life.’
    ‘That’s what sisters are for,’ Roxie replied, then turned to Margaret. ‘So what now?’ she asked,
    ‘I could call the station,’ said Mahoney. ‘I know what happened.’
    ‘But there’s more,’ said Margaret. ‘Much more.’
    ‘I’ve got the money,’ interrupted Frankie. ‘We could just vanish.’
    ‘Not a bad idea,’ said Margaret. ‘Take that Range Rover and get to France.’
    ‘Then Spain,’ said Frankie.
    ‘Actually,’ said Roxie. ‘I don’t think Spain is such a good idea.’
    ‘If you’re going I’m going with you,’ said Mahoney to Margaret.
    ‘It’s love,’ said Roxie. ‘I knew it.’
    ‘You’re a sweet bloke Mahoney,’ said Margaret. ‘But I don’t know.’
    They all stood amongst the carnage, until Margaret said. ‘Well everybody, let’s make up our minds. What’s it to be?’

Copyright
     
     
    First published in 2009
by No Exit Press
an imprint of Oldcastle Books
P O Box 394,
Harpenden, AL5 1XJ
     
    www.noexit.co.uk
     
    This ebook edition first published in 2011
     
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© Lee Martin, 2009
     
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