Free Dance With the Enemy by Rob Sinclair Page B

gagging at the sight of Vincent’s neck opening up. He’d hurt people before, but it wasn’t his route of choice to be so brutal, or to be so close. Killing with a knife was personal.
    But after the seeing the big guy in the corridor, Johnny knew something wasn’t right. Why had he been there at all? There was no reason for Vincent to have been on the police’s radar. Which worried Johnny. Because maybe it meant he’d missed something, made a mistake down the line. And the last thing he wanted was to have to admit that to Selim.
    Johnny took out his phone to call Reggie. He wasn’t looking forward to what he knew would be a heated conversation. He’d worked for Reggie on and off for over a year. The jobs he did paid by the day, which was good, and it was easy work, but it required Johnny to work for a man who was, quite frankly, uncontrollable. Their relationship constantly teetered on the brink of outright confrontation. And with the presence of Selim added to the mix, Johnny was beginning to seriously doubt his career choice. If he’d had another option for work, he would surely have taken it. But he didn’t.
    Reggie picked up the call on the second ring.
    ‘What is it?’ Reggie said in his booming voice.
    ‘I’m still outside the hotel,’ Johnny said. ‘I haven’t seen the mark for over two hours now. What do you want me to do?’
    ‘Surely you know the answer to that? I want you to find out who he is. That’s your job, isn’t it?’
    ‘Er, yeah, but I thought you just wanted me to follow him?’
    ‘No, I want you to find out who he is. Didn’t I just say that?!’
    ‘And how am I supposed to do that?’
    ‘For fuck’s sake, how should I know? That’s what I’m paying you for.’
    ‘Okay, but how long do you want me to keep this up for? Is there someone else who can take over here for the night?’
    ‘Johnny, is there something the matter with you? Are you trying to wind me up? We need to know if this guy is a threat.If he is then we need a plan to get rid of him. No loose ends, remember? But to know if he’s a threat, I need to know who he is. And I need to know what he’s doing here.’
    ‘Okay,’ Johnny cut in, hoping Reggie would stop. He didn’t.
    ‘Now I pay you to find out those things for me. So why are you asking me all these questions? Just do your fucking job and call me when you have something interesting to tell me. Got it?’
    ‘Yeah. I got it.’
    The line went dead. Johnny stuffed the phone back in his pocket. What was Reggie’s problem anyway? It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to do this job. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be stuck outside this hotel all night without any food or sleep.
    He crossed the street towards the hotel entrance. Once inside, he headed towards the reception desk where a young lady was on duty.
    ‘Bonsoir,’ Johnny said as he approached the lady.
    ‘Bonsoir, monsieur,’ the receptionist said.
    ‘I’m hoping you can help me,’ Johnny said, still in French. He spoke the language fluently, and having lived in France for many years now, he’d pretty much lost his English twang. ‘I’m looking for a man who checked in here about two hours ago. He’s tall, over six feet, wearing jeans and a black jumper. Can you tell me if he’s staying here?’
    The lady scowled at him. ‘I’m sorry, sir. That’s not really something we would be able to tell you. We can’t give away information like that about our guests.’
    ‘Madame, this is very important. I’m really hoping you can help me,’ Johnny said, pulling out his Interpol ID. His fake Interpol ID. He waved it in front of her face. ‘My name is Detective Platt.’
    Lord, thank you for Interpol, Johnny thought. How many people in this world would know what an Interpol ID looked like? Did Interpol detectives even carry IDs? Did Interpol have detectives? Johnny didn’t have a clue, but he knew that his fake ID worked every time. Most people were gullible beyond