Seizure by Nick Oldham

raise his voice. He was a pleasant guy and very little wound him up. Except of course one of his employees hiding an unlicensed hunting rifle in one of his boats. Castle went into the stateroom and came out bearing the rifle, brandishing it angrily. ‘Do you realize this could completely fuck me up if it comes out? The cops would come down on me like a ton of shit.’ He was furious.
    â€˜Sorry,’ Flynn said inadequately.
    Castle shook his head. ‘Not good enough, Steve.’ His mouth clamped shut. He put the weapon down and placed the ball of his thumb over his right eye as though he had a storming headache. Then he looked at the very chastened Flynn. ‘Why have you got it?’
    Flynn gave a pathetic shrug. ‘Pirates?’ he said thinly. ‘Target practice? A throwback to my army and cop days? I like guns and it was a bargain.’
    Castle held up a hand in mock-surrender. ‘Don’t, don’t,’ his voice was weary. ‘Look, Steve, if this comes out, even though the gun was used for a good purpose’ – he emphasized the word good by tweaking the first and second fingers of both hands – ‘there will be some really tough questions to answer. I’m hoping the illegals won’t say anything. I know Jose and Tom won’t – but what about Ms Hartland?’ Castle looked at him knowingly.
    â€˜She’ll keep quiet – promise,’ Flynn said. A sliver of relief shimmied through him. He’d thought he was going to get the chop.
    Castle picked up the rifle and handed it to Flynn. ‘Get rid, OK?’
    Flynn nodded, knowing that would be easier said than done.
    The two men regarded each other, then Castle started to smile. ‘Look, man, you’re my best skip, so don’t blow it . . . OK, today is a very big clean-up op. There’s no charters booked and we won’t accept any walk-ins today or tomorrow. The cops want to speak, too, so let’s accommodate them. Fortunately they’re as pissed off as anyone by illegal immigrants, so I don’t think they’ll probe too deeply.
    â€˜Tonight I want you on the door of the Purple Cane,’ Castle said – the job of bouncer at Castle’s club in the commercial centre was one of Flynn’s other roles. ‘Tomorrow, you’ll be taking one of the Jeep safaris – OK.’
    â€˜Got that,’ Flynn said with great relief.
    â€˜And I don’t care how you do it, Steve, but ditch the weapon – preferably in deep, deep water. I run an honest business.’
    With that, Castle left the boat. After composing himself, Flynn went on deck, a serious expression on his face that caused Tommy and Jose to look away guiltily.
    â€˜OK guys, I understand. One of you ratted on me.’
    Jose scowled as he stood up from his task. ‘We were not the ones with a rifle,’ the Spaniard pointed out. He wiped his hands on a cloth. Next to him was a bucket full of blood-coloured water.
    â€˜I know,’ Flynn said, backing off and realizing the wrong words had tumbled out of his mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’ Flynn was being very, very humble today.
    â€˜Adam’s very pissed off at you.’
    â€˜He has every right to be – although the gun did save the day.’
    â€˜Hey, it don’t make it right.’ Jose jabbed a finger at Flynn. ‘And how is the customer?’ he said, changing the subject without warning.
    â€˜She’s been cared for and is recovering well from the trauma,’ Flynn said grandly.
    â€˜I’ll bet she is.’
    â€˜And not only that.’ Flynn held up a finger. ‘She wanted to make a generous gesture towards us all. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted.’ Flynn’s right hand snaked into his back pocket and reappeared with a flourish, a thin wad of euro notes between his fingers. He saw Jose’s eyes widen appreciatively as he peeled off four fifty-euro