Diamonds Forever (26 page)

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Authors: Justine Elyot

BOOK: Diamonds Forever
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Her legs were watery as she turned on the kitchen light and moved as fast as she could, in case of collapse, through the room. Somebody had overcooked something quite recently, she thought, glancing at the stove to make sure it wasn't still on. But the smell of burning must be an old one.

Now she was bellowing his name, poking her head into every room, but finding no trace of him.

‘Ja—' She stopped suddenly. Had she heard something?

A muffled thudding sound coming from somewhere … where? … it wasn't the kitchen but it was in that direction.

She opened a door she had assumed must be a cupboard and gasped.

The thudding was much clearer now, and situated low in the building, almost beneath her feet. She flicked a switch on the inside wall and a set of stone steps came into view, with a door at its foot.

‘Jason,' she cried again, and this time she heard a reply.

‘Mia! In here!'

‘Oh my God, you're alive,' she almost wept, racing down the stairs and leaning her cheek against the door.

Of course, it was locked.

Jenna and Parker had been up and down the old Mansfield road three times before Parker put a hand on Jenna's arm and said, ‘Hey! Over there! Pull over a moment.'

There wasn't anywhere to stop, just a grass verge with hedgerow.

‘I can't pull over,' said Jenna.

‘Then do a U-turn and go back. I saw something in that last driveway we passed. Might be nothing, but …'

Jenna nodded tersely and waited for the road to clear of traffic before U-turning and heading back.

‘There! See! Pull into that driveway. I think someone's lying in the road.'

Jenna parked just inside the gate posts and hurried out of the car.

Parker was right. Somebody was lying, injured, on the gravel.

‘Christ, who is …?'

They bent over the figure and Jenna's heart began to bump again when she realised it was neither Jason nor Deano.

‘Oh God, oh God,' she said, putting a shaky hand on Parker's. ‘I thought it was …'

‘So did I,' admitted Parker, and they hugged each other briefly before kneeling to tend to the injured man.

‘I'm going to call an—'

But the sound of sirens, distant at first but rapidly nearing, finished the sentence for her.

Before they could get up, flashing lights were everywhere and a police car had swept into the drive.

‘Is that your car?' demanded an officer, leaping out and striding over. ‘I'll need you to move it. Got an ambulance coming in and you're obstructing the driveway there.'

‘OK,' said Jenna, hurrying towards the car.

‘Just move it up the drive,' called the policeman after her. ‘Don't leave. I need everyone on the scene. You can't get out anyway – too many vehicles queuing up to get in.'

Jenna realised with a thrill of shock that she was being treated as a suspect.

She shook off her indignation – he was only doing his job – and parked the car more conveniently, although she was so het up she almost bunny-hopped up the drive, the gearstick slippery under her sweaty palm.

‘So, do you know who he is?' she was asked, once she rejoined the officer and Parker.

An ambulance was coming in now, the doors opening, paramedics leaping out.

Jenna gave him a closer look.

All the blood on his face didn't help, but …

‘No,' she said, with a bemused grimace at him. ‘Never seen him before.'

‘Is this your house …?' The officer broke off, a familiar look of sudden recognition coming over his face. ‘It isn't, is it?' he finished lamely.

‘No, it isn't. I've never been here before. It's rented by Lawrence Harville, and we think he might be keeping somebody prisoner in …'

She broke off with a breath of horror. A glance over at the cottage had revealed a hot streak of orange flame on the living room curtains.

‘There,' she whispered.

‘Where's the key?' shouted Mia.

‘I don't bloody well know!' replied Jason. ‘I suppose Harville's got it. Is he still in there?'

‘No, he's gone away.'

She stopped and sniffed at the air. The burning smell was getting stronger and there was a noise coming from above. A roaring noise like … Oh God, and that was a pane of glass shattering. And smoke. Suddenly, smoke everywhere.

The place was on fire.

‘Oh
shit
!' she screamed. ‘Wait there. I'm calling the fire brigade and looking for something to break the door down. Don't panic. I'll be back.'

‘Fire brigade?' Jason's voice trailed after her as she raced up the stairs, the exhortation not to panic having apparently fallen on deaf ears.

‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,' whimpered Kayley, tears stinging her eyes, partly due to the smoke that was creeping in under the door.

‘Don't panic, babe,' said Deano, folding her into his arms and holding her tight. ‘At least somebody knows we're here. There's every chance we'll get out.'

‘Mia!' Jason was bellowing her name, banging on the door, but no reply came. He swore savagely and sat down hard on the bed beside Deano and Kayley.

‘This is what I get for being a hero,' he said. ‘Burned alive.'

‘Listen, Jason,' said Deano, ‘whether or not we get out of here, I really appreciate what you've tried to do. It's more than I might have done myself. I … perhaps this is the right time to say … perhaps Jenna wasn't completely off her head when she went off with you.'

‘Thanks, mate,' said Jason acidly. ‘That's a nice thought to take with me to my grave.' He put his head in his hands. ‘Why did I storm off like that? I'm a twat. I could still be there, with her, now … I can't stand her last memory of me being so shit.'

He got up again and banged the door, more to relieve his feelings than to achieve anything.

As he banged, he roared Jenna's name.

Kayley huddled closer into Deano and waited for everything to end.

‘Oh, bloody hell!' The police officer ran a few steps towards the house, then backed away again.

‘I think there's somebody in there,' said Jenna urgently.

‘Seriously?' He shouted back to a colleague. ‘Jeff, get the fire brigade. We think there's somebody in the house.' He turned back to Jenna. ‘Who?'

‘Well, like I said, Lawrence Harville is the tenant, and we think he's holding somebody in there against their will. But Harville's car isn't here, so … I don't know. Maybe they left. Maybe there's nobody in there. Oh God, I don't know, but I hope so.'

‘Well, I'm going to see if I can get in round the back,' said the police officer. ‘Who do you think is in there?'

‘My ex-husband,' said Jenna, following him around the side of the building. ‘Deano Diamond.'

The copper stopped in his tracks and stared at her.

‘You're joking me,' he said.

‘I wish I was. Please … can you try and get in there?'

‘I'll see what I can do. Was it you who reported the shots being fired?'

Jenna's eyes widened and her heart, already high in her chest, felt as if it had lodged in her throat, choking her.

She shook her head and swallowed hard.

‘Sh-shots?' she stammered. ‘No. No, that wasn't me. Oh Christ.'

‘All right,' said the police officer more gently. ‘Look, why don't you go and look after your friend over there? She seems in a pretty bad way.'

Jenna glanced back at Parker, who was in hysterics, trying to fight off various police officers and paramedics in order to hurl herself into the burning building.

‘He's in there!' she kept yelling. ‘My Deano is in there! Help him!'

Jenna was reluctant to leave the officer, but she had enough faith in him to believe that he would do everything he could.

‘Back door's open anyway!' she heard him say cheerfully as she set off towards Parker. ‘That's a good start.'

Jenna took over from the paramedic who was clinging to Parker's arm.

‘Parker, you're stopping these people from doing their jobs,' she said, finding that trying to focus on somebody else's panic was a good antidote for her own. ‘Please, let's just wait and see. An officer's going in to see what's what. And Deano might not be in there, anyway. Harville's car isn't here – he might be driving Deano home right now.'

Parker stopped hyperventilating for a moment to stare at Jenna out of her mascara-streaked face.

‘D'you think?' she panted. ‘Oh God, please let it be true. Oh God.'

‘We don't even know if this is the place,' Jenna pointed out. ‘This could be a completely different house and that beaten-up guy might be nothing to do with anything.'

But if so, it would have to be one of the most eventful nights in the entire history of the old Mansfield road, thought Jenna ruefully. And the policeman had said there was a report of shots fired at this address. Her stomach flipped again at the thought.

‘Was he shot?' she called over to one of the paramedics, who shook her head.

‘No, why?'

So it wasn't him the shots had been fired at – unless they'd missed him, of course. Or was he the gunman, overpowered in a struggle and relieved of his weapon, which discharged in the struggle? Oh, there was no point trying to brew theories. Nothing could be known until the man came round.

Parker was a little calmer now, though she was shivering badly.

‘I've got a blanket in the car – do you want it?' said Jenna. ‘I'll go and get it. You need to keep warm. You're in shock.'

Parker said nothing but, ‘Oh God,' so Jenna headed off to the car, passing the unconscious man as he was stretchered into the ambulance.

Her hand was on the handle of the car door when she caught movement at the foot of the drive from the corner of her eye. A car had made as if to pull in, then the driver obviously thought better of it, backing away again.

It was Harville.

Nobody else had seen him, all too deeply involved in their work, but she was sure of it. Was Deano in the car with him? Or was he in the boot, being taken to some other hiding place? Whatever was going on, the idea of Harville getting away and never being seen again filled her with sudden and potent rage.

Forgetting the blanket, she jumped into her car and began to manoeuvre her way out of her parking spot.

‘Oi!' shouted a policewoman, seeing what she was doing. ‘You can't just go!'

But she could. And she did.

Police Constable Ricky Jefferson stood in the open back doorway, taking a moment to acclimatise to the stinging in his eyes and the sudden drying up of his throat. A thick pall of smoke made the scene difficult to discern, but he thought the fire was mainly confined to the rooms at the front of the house. If anyone was in there, they stood little chance of getting out.

He was just preparing to head inside and search the kitchen and back rooms when a coughing figure emerged from the grey cloud and doubled over in front of him.

‘Come on out,' he said, taking her arm and yanking her into the safety of the back yard.

‘They're in the basement,' she said hoarsely, between more racking coughs. ‘Locked in. You've got to help them.'

‘You what? There are people locked in the basement? How many?'

‘I don't know. Three, I think, but could be more.'

Ricky spoke urgently into his walkie-talkie, then ran around the side to appeal to his colleagues for help.

‘We've got three people trapped in a basement. Get us a battering ram out of the boot, will you?'

His female colleague was forthcoming with the apparatus they used for early morning drug raids. The paramedics provided face masks, and they hurried away to the back of the house.

‘Hurry up, fire brigade,' muttered the female officer.

A third officer, recently arrived, took Mia aside when it looked as if she planned to follow them.

‘Steady on, love,' he said in comfortable, avuncular tones. ‘You look like you could do with checking over by our friends in the ambulance. You've breathed in a bit of smoke by the looks of you.'

‘I'm fine,' rasped Mia, but she let the officer take her over to the ambulance all the same, looking anxiously back at the house every couple of seconds. ‘It's them I'm worried about.'

‘Who's in there?' asked the policeman.

‘My mate Jason,' she said. ‘And my mate Kayley. Oh, and Deano Diamond.'

‘Right ho,' said the officer, rolling his eyes, as if she'd namechecked Mickey Mouse.

‘No, I'm serious,' she said, and then she could say no more, as a plastic oxygen mask was clamped over her face and she was encouraged to take deep breaths.

By the time she was allowed out of the ambulance, twitching with nerves about the fate of her friends and the two courageous police officers who'd gone in after them, the fire brigade were in situ, running around unravelling hoses.

She couldn't hear much over the deep chug of the engine, but there was a lot of shouting and a fair bit of breaking glass going on.

She saw the paramedics – more of them now, as an extra ambulance was on the scene – rush past her towards the back of the house, and she made to follow them, but was prevented by the police.

‘No, love,' said the older man she had spoken to before. ‘Let them do their job. How are you feeling now?'

‘Fine, honestly,' she said. ‘It was just a bit of smoke. God, are they OK? I need to know …'

‘What were they doing in there?'

‘They were locked in … Harville did it … He must have set fire to the place before he left …'

‘You mean you think the place was deliberately set on fire? And he meant to kill them?'

‘I bet you any money. Oh God, where are they?'

Her question was answered when the police officers returned into view, supporting a limp figure between them.

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