Page 89 of Savage Justice

“That’s right. You’ve met my associates already, obviously.”

“I need tae be i’ the hospital,” he whines. “That bastard shot me.”

“He did. Right after you tried to slice my friend’s guts out. So, you see, we have a problem.”

He has the sense to stay silent. That won’t last long.

Ethan continues, all the while pacing slowly around the table to examine his quarry from all angles. “It’s cold as fuck in here, so we won’t keep you any longer than we need to, but I also find myself exercised by the presence of two dead women in my hotel. Are you able to shed any light on that, Mulligan?”

He shakes his head. “Ne’er saw no women.”

“Do try to remember. It will be so much easier for everyone if you do.”

“No… no women…”

“You’re a fucking liar. Shall we start with the one on the top floor? What was her name?”

“I dinnae ken. Fuck off.”

Ethan looks to Jack. “Did Megan give him anything for the pain?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“Good.” Without warning, he lands a punch right on the dressing covering Mulligan’s stomach wound.

Mulligan howls in agony. Blood begins to seep through the neat bandage. Soon it’s pooling on the table and dripping onto the floor.

“Are you quite sure you can’t remember? Do you need me to remind you again?”

The howls subside to rasping groans. “Hospital, please…”

“You won’t be going anywhere, dipshit. You’re here, with me, until I let you die.” Ethan leans in so his face is inches from Mulligan’s. “Do you want me to let you die? Just let you slip away, quietly?”

“I… Please, I ne’er—”

Ethan punches him again. More howling, more blood flowing.

“You’re making a mess, Albert. If I take that bandage off, will your fucking guts spill out all over my floor?”

“Mr Savage, please…”

“I want her name, scumbag.”

“I dinnae… aaaah!”

Ethan draws back to deliver another blow, but Mulligan’s had enough.

“Elsie. ’Er name were Elsie.”

Ethan lowers his fist. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me all about Elsie.”

“I dinnae… what d’ye want tae ken? She were a whore…”

“How old was she?”

“How would I ken? Twenty-five mebbe.”

“Did she have a family? Kids?”

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