A Line in the Sand (41 page)

try

to cover the front. His breath was heaving and, to Joe Paget, he

270

was

ing incoherent.

damn bloody close to go

Coming across him and Dave

nkin was Bill Davies crying out for cover at the front, and the

Ra

woman's sobs were across everything. And the unmarked car at the

main

road was playing bolshie and saying they weren't supposed to move

off

station, and the unmarked car that was cruising was more than two

s... Leo Blake came round the corner by the village hall and,

minute

with the green ahead of him, had to swerve to miss an old man with a

terrier. Bill Davies heard the shoulder hammer into the front door was a new lock and an

where there

old bolt, and held his hand over

her

mouth and tried to muffle the sobbing that would pinpoint for the

Tango

where they were. The door sagged... ( .. Dave Rankin fell into the cold frame at the side of the house, crashed through the glass,

sprawled and lost the momentum of his charge... Leo Blake drove

straight across the grass of the green, wheels spinning, skidding, hit

a young tree and flattened it with its post. He swung his wheel and the front of the house in his

had

full lights, and saw him... Bill

Davies heard the door splintering... For a flickering moment, Joe

Paget

saw him again, white against grey, then lost him as the car's lights blacked out his screen... Leo Blake had the Tango in his lights. He could see the man's camouflage combat gear, his mud-smeared face,

and

the assault rifle. The man, as if it was his final desperate effort, threw his weight against the door. Blake shared the Heckler & Koch with Davies, and now only had the Glock in a shoulder holster. He'd forgotten it, its presence there was clean out of his mind. He

dazzled

the Tango with his lights. The Tango had the rifle up, aiming towards the car, but couldn't see through the lights. Blake knew the rifle, had fired the same weapon on the range, knew its killing power. He thought his last best chance was to charge the man with the lights on

full beam. The Tango thrust an arm over his blinded eyes, then ran.

The man sprinted, full stride, along the track in front of the houses.

There was a moment when the back of the Tango was in front of the

car,

and then the man tried to sidestep towards the cover of a hedge.

Clutching the wheel, Leo Blake felt the jolt as he clipped the Tango, and he was past him. The car surged on, spun, turned the full circle.

271

Leo Blake saw, lying on the grass, the Kalashnikov. He switched off the engine. He tried to be calm, to report what he had done, what he

had seen..

( .. Bill Davies held the woman, his hand still over her mouth. The sound of bitter argument on the soap played from the living room

through the hall and into the cupboard. He said it was all right, he

said it was over, and he realized that he had no shoes on... Joe Paget sat motionless in front of his console and watched the green lights of

the unbroken beams.. . Far away, Dave Rankin heard the splinter

crack

of a fence breaking, as if it were rotten and gave under the weight of

a man. He walked out of the front garden and across the grass to

the

Kalashnikov, cleared it and made it safe... Leo Blake sat in his car and tried to slow the beating of his heart. He put the window down, for air, and the stench came to him, from the hedge, of old stagnant mud... ( .. Bill Davies took his hand from Meryl Perry's mouth...

Dear

Geoffrey, It was good to see you in person and hear you at first hand

-if we had any doubts about your suitability or your readiness to

take

responsibility then you most decisively struck them out.

My colleague and I are, therefore, very pleased to be able to offer you

employment with the bank. You would start in our Pensions/

Investment

section where we would monitor your progress before deciding where in

our operations you would sit most comfortably. Our Human Resources section is currently drafting a letter setting out a proposed salary structure along with bonus emoluments, which you will receive on

nday.

Mo

If they are acceptable please let me know when you can start

with us the sooner the better as far as we are concerned. We would resign from your present employment at the earliest

wish you to

opportunity.

Sincerely,

The letter was under her buttocks.

272

It was Vicky's reward.

It was creased and crumpled, and her thighs gripped his waist and

her

ankles locked against the small of his back.

The drink made her noisy.

She had cooked for the two of them, something Mexican. His absence at

lunch with her mother was forgiven, and she'd drunk most of the bottle he'd brought round. Shyly he had shown her the letter that had lain unopened all day in his briefcase. She had left the plates, the empty glasses and the finished bottle on the table, and taken him and his letter to her bed.

Wasn't he clever, wasn't he brilliant? Wasn't the future opening

for

them?

He was too tired to enjoy it, but he pretended. She grunted and

squealed and kept him inside her long after he was finished.

he resign? When would he be shot of the bloody place?

When would

as as if Vicky had given him a present... His pager bleeped on

It w

his

belt. His belt was in his trousers, on the floor by the door, where she'd pulled them off him.

He prised open her thighs and fell off her.

All he wanted to do was to sleep, and to forget the one-road village, the prey and the predator, the high church tower that overlooked the marshlands. He crawled to his trousers and read the pager's message.

MARK HAM C. IRE JULIET 7FARED HIT GET BACK SOONEST. FEN TON He

started to dress. She lay on the bed, limp, her legs apart. He

pulled

on his underpants, his trousers, shirt, and his socks. The letter ed from under her buttocks. He pulled on his shoes and

still peep

knotted the laces. He went to the bed and tried to kiss her mouth but

she turned her head away and his lips brushed her cheek.

"It's the last time you do this to me, the last bloody time. You're ning back to them again, like they're your bloody mother."

not run

273

Chapter Twelve.

Bill Davies had clung to the pillow in the bed. In his dream mind Meryl had been with him through the night.

The pillow was the principal's wife. He had held her close against him

in the doorway of the cupboard under the stairs when her body had

shaken with the sobbing, and he had held the pillow against his chest.

The pillow had been soft, vulnerable, needing protection.

He had slipped out of the house before Mrs. Fairbrother was

downstairs, an hour before his wake-up call. He had driven away from the village, out past the church, to the woodland by the car-park

and

the picnic site. He had pulled up an oak sapling from the ground, wrenched it up from the sandy soil, and had found a pile of posts

for

fencing that had been left by the foresters, and taken one. He had thrown the sapling and a post into the boot of the car.

He waved grimly to the men in the unmarked car. They'd be the same shift as had been on last night, and the beggars had played by the rule

book and said they weren't permitted to leave their station. He'd have

them. Later in the morning he'd burn them when he could get his

guvnor

on the telephone. It would have been shades of hell for that family, but the unmarked car had followed the rule book, and the family could have died because of it. He shook his head sharply, as if to block the

memory, and started up his car.

He pulled on to the road, and had to brake sharply. He'd damn near run

into the back of the van. At snail's pace it was going towards the village. He was about to hit the horn, when he realized the

implication of the painted words on the back of the van.

"Danny's Removals. Nothing too large or too small. Go anywhere, anytime." And there was a London telephone number.

The removals van was lost and trying to find an address in the village.

Why hadn't Blake radioed him, or his guvnor telephoned him? He

274

wondered whether they'd already gone, with their suitcases, and

whether

the van was just to pick up their furniture and possessions. They e bloody told him, after everything he'd done for them.

could hav

He

beat his fist in frustration against the steering-wheel. He'd been in

arge of the security, and it had so damn near gone wrong.

ch

Was he

responsible for the family running? Momentarily he shut his eyes, lost

sight of the big back doors of the van. He'd thought Perry had the to stick it out, even if the wife hadn't. A van meant that

balls

Perry

s going, or had gone..

wa

. He felt limp, washed through. He thought

that he had failed. He couldn't blame them for going, not after last ght. He thought the bastards had won. The bastards were not a

ni

man

th an assault rifle, but the men in the pub, the neighbour, the

wi

hool.

people at the sc

The bastards, the friends, had won the day.

A man ran out from a hedge ahead,

tic on the loose,

looked like a luna

d waved frantically to the dawdling

an

van. He was wearing a

raincoat,

der which the hem of a nightshirt showed and bedroom slippers.

un

The

brake lights flashed.

Davies saw the for-sale sign on to which the sold board had been

iled.

na

The man was pointing to the narrow driveway of the cottage.

, and breathed hard.

He stopped

He thought it was his tiredness that

o fast and so stupidly.

had made him react s

He waited while the van

noeuvred into the driveway of Rose Cottage, then powered away down ma

the empty road. He realized, then, how much the family meant to him.

Bill Davies used the

In the half-light of the Sunday morning,

ort-handled spade from the boot to hack out the broken tree on the sh

e snapped-off post that had held it.

green and th

rry, was in bud and would soon have

The broken tree, an ornamental che

en

be

in flower. Last night, the wheels of Blake's car and its chassis

ly cleared the small plaque commemorating the planting

had miraculous

of

the tree by the parish council as a mark of respect for the dead

ss. He dug a deeper pit and planted the oak sapling in the

prince

cherry tree's place, then used the back of the spade to hammer down the

stolen post. He tossed the broken tree and the snapped stake behind 275

the water-butt at the side of Perry's house.

Where there had been a cherry tree there was now an oak sapling; where there had been a stake there was now a post. He used the point of the

spade to scuff up the grass and cover the tracks of Blake's tyres.

He

folded away the spade.

A teenage boy was working down the far side of the green with a

bicycle-load of newspapers.

Two cars went down the road at the side of the green and plumed exhaust fumes behind them.

He shivered in the chill of the morning and wondered if she had slept or had clung to her husband, his principal. And Bill Davies was

satisfied.. . The evidence of the night action was erased. He had told them, in London, in his interim report, of the highly

professional

f his principal and his principal's family.

defence o

He had written

in

a stuttering hand, then controlled his voice to hide its quaver as he'd

litany of lies. They might just believe it in

dictated a brisk

London.

oked across the green and the roofs of the houses towards the

He lo

watery low light growing on the sea's horizon line. He looked at

the

house and the drawn curtains on the bedroom window, and he wondered how

they would be... He was walking to the front door when the neighbour m the next-door house.

spilled out fro

d, I want a word with you."

"A wor

ton, the neighbour, was in a dressing-gown and slippers.

Wrough

His

hair wasn't combed and he hadn't yet shaved. Davies saw the wife

behind him, half hiding in the hall's shadows.

"How can I be of help?"

"What happened here last night?"

"I'm not aware that anything happened."

276

"There was a car... "Was there really?"

"And shouting."

"Must have been a television turned up too loud."

"Are you telling me that nothing happened here last night?"

"If there's anything you need to be told, Mr. Wroughton, you'll be told it."

ed into the neighbour's eyes, challenged him, then watched

He star

him

r

back off and go back inside. Bill Davies could be a quality lia

and a

e bully.

good-grad

He saw the woman's face at the window beside the

door, smiled cheerfully at her and waved. A man with a high-velocity assault rifle had been, in the darkness, a few feet from where that woman, her husband and children had lain in their beds and listened to