Page 61 of Savage Protector

“Hmm, nice.” Reluctantly, I take the tube back to the storeroom. It might have been fun, but now’s not the time.

I return to Mehrban. “I guess you’ve worked out what’s to happen here.”

His gaze is riveted on the sink full of water, but he has nothing useful to say, apparently, and I’m finding the endless pleading a bit wearing. I get out my phone for a game ofCandy Crush. It’s a weakness of mine but good for tuning out external din.

My phone buzzes around twenty minutes later to announce an incoming text.

Five minutes. Got our guest.

I punch out a short reply.Rear door.

I pop back into the storeroom to collect the keys I left there, along with a handful of nitrile gloves, then go to unlock the back door. I take a peep outside, pleased to see a deserted backstreet. Handy for parking and unloading an unwilling piece of cargo.

I wait there until I spot the headlights. Tony draws up outside and gives me a wave.

“He’s in the boot,” he tells me as he strolls round to the back. “Those for me?”

“Yes. A precaution.” I hand him a pair of gloves.

He unrolls the blue nitrile over his hands before he pops the boot lid to reveal a squirming Iftikar, gagged and trussed up like a Christmas turkey. He gestures to Nico and Rome. “Get him out.”

They also put on gloves, then they drag him out of the boot, and I lead the way into the back of the salon.

“Everything go okay?” I ask.

“Like a dream. We intercepted him in the car park at the gym. He’s probably still groggy, Nico can be a bit heavy-handed. Not to worry, we don’t need him especially compos mentis. Now, where do we want him?”

“Just here.” I drag one of the spare chairs over to the sink. “Here. Use these to make sure he stays there.”

Rome takes the handful of cable ties I offer him and does the business swiftly while Iftikar groans as though he’s dying already.

Won’t be long.

“Why the water?” Tony tips his chin at the full sinks.

“A prop. Gave our Mehrban something to think about while we waited for you.”

“Good. We can do without all the mopping up. People do tend to thrash about a bit when you drown them.” He grins at me. “What’s your plan, then?”

“Keep it simple, I thought.” I produce a length of narrow cord from my pocket. I cut it from a washing line a couple of years ago and found it made an excellent garrotte. And it’s a silent method of disposal and leaves little in the way of mess, as long as the victim doesn’t piss himself. Or worse. But that takes time, and I intend to make this swift.

Tony is of the same mind. “Let’s get on with this, then. We’ve work to do later, and we’ll still need to dispose of the bodies before we can get on and deal with other business.”

Iftikar is still dazed, but Mehrban is perfectly aware of what’s to come and decides to mount yet another protest.

“Please… Who are you? Why are you doing this? Let us go, we can pay you. What do you want?” He’s thrashing about again, and I wonder how long those cable ties will last.

“We’re friends of Leila,” I reply. “As are both of you. I gather you came calling last night for a spot of housewarming.”

“Leila? That slag? We?—”

I put a stop to his little speech with my fist. “That’s enough of that, shit for brains. You were warned, and you only get told once. You weren’t listening, so now we need a more permanent solution.”

“But, you?—”

“But what?” I move to stand behind him and slip my cord around his neck. “Don’t worry. If you don’t make a fuss, I can make this quick.” That’s not entirely true, it actually takes four to five minutes to complete a decent strangulation and be sure of brain death. He’ll be unconscious long before that, though.

“Not sure about painless…” I draw the garrotte tight. “Any last words?”

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