Spike never officially organised these shoots, because he wasn’t officially a gun dealer. He worked the black market, and got a lot of his stuff from army bases throughout Texas. He bought from overseas too, though. He just didn’t do any of this legally.
‘Look at this,’ he told me. He had led us to where today’s arms were displayed, spread on sheets of plastic on the ground. It looked like an arsenal captured from the Iraqis. Spike had picked up a Browning anti-aircraft gun. It showed off his bronzed arm muscles. ‘Something for the lady,’ he said, laughing.
I laughed back, and Bel gave me a disgusted look.
‘We got your M16s, your AK-47s and 74s.’ Spike pointed out the most interesting items. ‘Look here, we even got something from Finland or Sharkland or someplace, a Varmint.’
‘Valmet,’ I corrected. ‘The M62.’
‘Whatever. We got armour-piercing ammo you wouldn’t believe, man. Look here, the M39B. Use it in a handgun, it’ll go through a bullet-proof vest. Get ’em while you can. Black Talon bullet here, you ever hear of it?’
‘It expands on impact,’ Bel said coolly, ‘and has these sharp little edges.’
Spike opened his eyes and mouth wide. ‘Lookee here, we got us an expert! It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for!’ Then he went back to his inventory. ‘It’s all cute stuff, and believe me we got everything.’
‘So what would you suggest?’
Spike stopped his spiel and looked at me. He was wavering, but it was an impersonation of a drunk rather than an effect of drink. His blue eyes were clear.
‘Well now, depends what you need it for.’
‘We need a variety of things. A sniper rifle, a couple of pistols, and maybe an assault rifle, something serious.’
Spike nodded thoughtfully, then counted off on his fingers. ‘Sniper rifle for long range, pistol for close range, and assault rifle for taking on the Seventh Cavalry.’
‘You might not be far off.’
He finished his beer and crushed the can, throwing it on to the ground. ‘What’s this “we” shit, man?’
I nodded in Bel’s direction. Spike stared at me, working out if I was serious, then he shook his head.
‘Maybe we better discuss this,’ he said.
I knew he wouldn’t want to discuss anything out in the open. Texas had lax gun laws, but that didn’t mean illegal dealers were encouraged. After the Waco siege, even Texans had started to ask questions about the amount of guns around.
We followed Spike’s pick-up truck. Bel said she wanted to drive, so she drove the Trans-Am. I didn’t mind her driving at all; two drivers would make the trip north all the faster. Back at his house, Spike yelled up the stairs that he was home, then went into the kitchen and brought out half a dozen refrigerated beers. We made ourselves comfortable on the porch. Bel said she needed the bathroom, and Spike told her where it was. We didn’t see her for a while after that.
Spike drank his first beer in silence.
‘So who is she?’ he said at last.
‘A friend.’
‘What’s her problem?’
‘She’s in mourning.’
‘Mm-hm.’ He opened the second beer and wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. ‘So, what’s the story, Wild West?’
I shook my head, and he shrugged.
‘That’s up to you, of course, but if you’re looking to buy so much hardware, people are going to be wondering.’
‘That’s not my problem. My problems start if you can’t get the stuff.’
‘Man, I can get anything. I just want to be right in my mind about why you want it.’
‘What is this, new legislation? You have to have a clear conscience after each sale?’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘Things are crazy though. We’ve got doctors telling us guns kill more teenagers than every known disease combined. We’ve got Clinton, man, the most anti-gun president we’ve ever known. That fucker got the Brady Bill through! We’ve got the NRA fighting its battle, but not always winning any more. I don’t always agree with the NRA, man, you know that. It simply isn’t right that minors can carry handguns, no way. But now some states are banning assault weapons, they’re limiting how many guns you can buy... Forty deaths a day, man, forty a day. I know it’s mostly gangs fighting each other, but it’s a lot of blood.’
‘Maybe you’re just getting old, Spike. Either that or Democrat.’
‘Wash your mouth, boy! No, I’ll tell you what it is, it’s ever since Jazz came to stay. Her real name’s Jasmine, but she likes Jazz. There are kids she hangs around with, they carry guns, a boy in her class got himself shot. There was a shoot-out at some zoo someplace. She tells me all this, and I just...’ He shrugged his shoulders and finished beer number two.
‘Who is she?’ I asked.
‘Jazz? She’s my niece, man, my sister’s kid. Her mom and dad split up, and neither of them was ready to take her with them. Hell, I don’t blame my sister, she’s just mixed up just now, you know. So I said I’d let Jazz stay here for a while, see if I couldn’t give her a less crazy environment, something stable, you know.’
I think I nodded.
‘She’s a great kid, man, clever too. She’s got a computer up in her room, she can do anything with that pile of junk. She’s some kind of genius, I guess.’
‘Can you get me an assault rifle?’ I said, smashing into his reverie.
‘Hell, yes, just so long as you don’t want an ownership licence. Know why they started licensing automatics?’ He’d told me before, but I didn’t say. ‘To stop Dillinger, man, and gangsters like him. They reckoned you could stop those guys by getting the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms to run background checks. Man, they can hardly check the baseball scores.’
Spike had drunk more than I’d thought. He could ramble on all night, trying to justify his existence and that of the other people around him, trying to make sense of his world. I knew the only place his world made sense was out on the gun range.
‘You’re staying tonight, right?’
‘We’ve got a hotel.’
‘Aw, you could stay here.’
‘Thanks, but it’s already bought and paid for.’ I shrugged my shoulders.
‘That’s too bad.’
‘We can talk more in the morning. How long will it take to get the stuff?’
‘I can have it for you tomorrow, I guess. Cash, right?’
‘Right.’
‘We’re talking big numbers here.’
‘Let me worry about the money.’
‘That’s cool.’ He looked around. ‘Where’s your woman?’
‘She’s not my woman.’
‘Oh? Whose is she then?’
‘Her own.’
‘A ballbreaker?’
‘That’s not what I said.’
‘It’s what I hear in your voice. She must’ve got lost or something.’
We went inside. Bel wasn’t lost, she was in Jazz’s room, seated at the computer and playing a new game while Jazz gave instructions over her shoulder.
‘Time to go, Bel.’
‘Five more minutes, Michael.’
Jazz glowered at me. ‘If you don’t obey him, Bel, he might pull the plug.’
‘He’ll get a kick in the balls if he does,’ Bel said quietly, bringing a spume of laughter from Jazz. Spike mouthed a word at me.