The Tailor's Razor

6. Charity

A quick swim round the corner

Taylor hauled the catatonic assassin onto the beach, startling a pair of lovers who were hoping to be caught in a Here to Eternity wave. They apologised awkwardly before gathering their shoes and running off into the night.

"See that, girlie?" the journalist slapped Yuri on her bloody belly, "That's what I should be doing right now instead of saving your sorry arse."

"Why..." she panted, "Did you save me?"

"You know that bloke whose limo you painted with his brains... whose brains you painted his limo... with? How do you say that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You man you shot: I made a promise to his daughter to find who killed her father."

Yuri was silent, sinking into the blackness that hung around the sand. Eventually, though, she said "You should've let me drown then."

"I don't want to kill you."

"Ah... so it's court justice you're after..."

"I don't give a damn. It's for Madison to decide."

"Oh, now I understand," she played with the bullet holes in her side, "You want to wash your hands of responsibility. Offer me up so your conscience is clear, then you can go off and play with the Governor's orphan."

"Girlie, I'm gonna let you go," Taylor said softly, and it shut up Yuri properly this time, "You're a contract killer. I doubt Madison sees it this way, but you were just doing a job, right? If you hadn't have done it somebody else would've. So I need you to put me in touch with the dickhead who hired you. That's my justice."

Yuri was taken aback, slowly replying "That's... good of you I guess... but I don't hand out my employer's details. That's my principle."

"What do you care? Thieves' honour and all that? I bet the fella who hired you was some rich son of a bitch who's got more money than sense. He's pissing thirty year old brandy down the toilet while next door some family's starving. Keep your principles, but what do you care if a Wall Street pig receives a bit of fury and justice from a girl in mourning who's lost her father?"

Yuri sighed, "I don't need this moral dialogue..."

"I don't wanna keep you up at night with old demons, girlie; I'm just asking you to help me, and my friend."

"You don't know the first thing about demons."

"I know much more than you think I do."

"Ever had to shoot a man?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "And even a few times when I didn't have to shoot someone I did."

"Just get it over with and kill me," spat Yuri.

Taylor thundered. Slowly standing he walked into the white water, little waves licking his ankles. In a moment he returned, dropping to his knees over the woman.

"Give me your fucking employer!" Taylor wrapped his fingers round her throat, pushing on the abortive nub of her apple.

Yuri's hands were on his; twisting his wrists to make him shriek she threw him onto the sand. With the girl on top Taylor grit his teeth; he was locked in place with her weight on his hips and his arms tied in a knot.

The assassin was breathing heavily, though, and in the darkness Taylor could feel the warmth of her blood running over his chest.

"You need to get to a hospital, Yuri."

"I can fix myself," she shuddered, but her head was beginning to roll.

Taylor tried his luck and struggled but Yuri, only a small woman, locked his arms tighter and tighter, "Fuck you've got strong hands... Yuri! What the hell are we doing?"

"I don't know..." she bowed her head, "What do you want?

"Just give me a way to find the guy who employed you!"

She shrugged, loosening her grasp, "I was only contacted by a middle man."

"How? Oh, Yuri for God's sake let me go!"

She twisted his arms again, making the boy gasp. Leaning in close she pressed their noses together, "Too much, bitch boy?"

"Yuri...!"

Relenting, she jumped off the incapacitated boy, stepping gingerly into the darkness up the beach.

"Oi Yuri! Ah Christ..." Taylor gently bent his aching wrists, "Yuri!"

"What?" her voice came drifting along the breaking waves.

"Please," he lay in the wet sand, "I just need that guy's number."

"It was a burner phone, dude," clinging to her bleeding side Yuri emerged back into the moonlight, "What can you possibly offer me to make me wanna help you?"

"I'm just asking, girlie. That's it. Your choice to help me out. You can walk off and never have to deal with me ever again... or you can come back here for a second and help me, and help Madison, and then never have to deal with us ever again. Your choice."

Yuri swayed in the black, "What's your name?"

"Will Taylor."

"Will Taylor, you're hopeless."

"I've got nothing but hope."

She laughed, "Got that right!" sighing, she confessed that "I don't care. I really don't care about it at all," though Taylor couldn't see, Yuri squinted her eyes, counting the days till she could return to her bungalow in Chiang Mai, "Your phone survive the water?"

"Yeah bro it's waterproof."

"Cool."

"You should see the quality of the camera!"

"Wanna take a selfie or something?" she smirked.

"Why not, hey?"

"Probably not a good idea, Will..."

"Yeah... if Madison ever saw it I'd be deader than her dad!"

"You... have a twisted sense of humour..."

"Oh don't lecture me on who's twisted! What did you want my phone for?"

Yuri went to 'Notes' and wrote down an account number for a bank in Panama called HMRT, "This is best I can do. This is the account I was paid into. It's not much, but... whatever."

"Yeah nah, thanks," smiled Taylor, slowly climbing to his feet.

Waiting for Yuri's reply he checked where she'd been standing, but the woman was already limping into the jungle, the rustling undergrowth smothered out by the sound of the surf. Taylor just turned around and stared at the glistening prawn-boats on the horizon, trying to work out what story to spin for Madison. The account number went beyond Danny and the island's police; they'd stepped into a global game.