Читать книгу The A-List Collection - Victoria Fox - Страница 77

New York

Lester Fallon unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside. It was dark except for a naked bulb above the dirt-caked stove, casting a bald yellow light across the room.

Tonight had been his last at Club 44. Some of the guys had stayed to have a drink with him when his shift was done–he didn’t like any of them, they were weak and blind; they had no drive, no fire. Not like him. He was about to become a multi-millionaire, richer beyond his wildest dreams.

The time had come. Vegas was calling. Laura had been waiting long enough.

Lester opened the fridge and surveyed its contents. A chunk of greyish meat on a cracked plate; a bit of cheese hardened on one side; a sticky jar of jelly and three cans of beer. He reached in for one, popped it open and closed the door. On its front was a calendar with thick red crosses slashed through the days. Sixty to go until the movie premiere–that was all.

He was getting close, closer than he’d ever been. So close he could smell her fear.

In the bedroom he pulled out a canvas bag and began packing for the first leg of his journey. He wasn’t particular about it; there would be no need for order where he was going. Efficiency, that was all. Combat pants, a couple of sweaters, a pair of gloves.

He showered, dried with a cloth that stank of milk, then ran a fine-toothed comb through his thin, wet hair, beneath which it was possible to see the pale pink of his scalp. His decision to catch an overnight coach was a deliberate one. It was easier to move under cover of darkness. He’d learned that a long time ago.

Lester dressed in brown slacks and a corduroy jacket. He tied his shoelaces tightly. Sinking to his knees, he bent to retrieve a box from under the bed. Inside was a camel-coloured envelope containing a stack of fifties he had been saving. He tucked half the stash in the inside pocket of his jacket and the other half slotted down one side of his bag. Once he’d dealt with Lana and her murderer boyfriend he’d never have to worry about money again. He’d reveal their crime and their world would end … just like the voice had said.

He slid his hand into the box a final time, removed something cold and heavy, then secured the lid before replacing it, empty, under the bed.

The most important thing of all.

The gun.