High Island Blues (29 page)

‘And Esme? Did she deserve it?’

‘No. She was just a stupid woman. Russell went off on his own to bury the chisel. I thought they might search our rooms. I wanted to go with him but he wouldn’t have me involved. He found the plastic bag in the dustbin and the shovel in that shed by the car-park. Esme saw him go into the woods from her bedroom window and followed him. To chat him up. I suppose she thought it was exciting going after a married man. He lashed out at her with the shovel. He came running up to our room in tears. I’m surprised nobody saw him. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to hide her body but I said no, that wouldn’t be fair. To leave her sister not knowing, wondering. We had to wait for Helen to die. She was on a life-support machine for three weeks. All the time we were hoping she might pull through. I told him to put the body where someone would find it.’

She stopped for breath and looked directly at him. ‘I had to find you this evening to tell you. I waited until you were on your own. Russell’s not himself. He might do something silly again.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me the night he killed Esme? Why the story about her arranging to meet someone?’

‘Because of the bird race. He so much wanted to take part in that.’

From the stable yard there came a noise: one voice, yelling. It was too early for the revellers to be returning to their cars and this was different from the good-natured taunts in the bar. George could not make out the words but the tone was sharp, deadly serious.

Connie recognized it immediately.

‘That’s him,’ she said.

George ran out of the flat and along the corridor past the kitchen to the back door. Connie sat for a moment, frozen, then she followed.

Two figures stood in the stable yard. Laurie Brownscombe was spot-lit by a security lamp. She must have been on her way to her car. Russell May was closer to the out-house, in shadow. Laurie was turned towards him with a puzzled expression on her face, not scared in the least.

‘I’m sorry. Did you want to speak to me?’

‘I want to speak to you lady. Tell me. Did you know you were sheltering a murderer for twenty years?’

He moved out of the shadows towards her. Laurie edged away from him towards her car.

‘Don’t turn your back on me,’ Russell shouted, petulant as a child. ‘Don’t you dare do that!’ Then, still like a playground bully: ‘I’m bigger than you. And I’ve got a gun.’

‘Has he?’ George demanded in a whisper to Connie.

‘Of course not.’

But George thought it was not impossible. He had seen all the news reports about how easy it was to buy firearms in the States. Russell was angry enough and convincing enough to get away with it.

Laurie stood very still, her hands flat palmed towards him.

‘He was going to marry my daughter,’ Russell said. ‘Not you. Not some stuck-up American. There’d have been children. My grandchildren.’

He moved towards her. George inched forward too. Still he was not in a position to see whether Russell May was holding a weapon.

Suddenly there was an explosion of noise. A shout followed by a gunshot. The sound was so intense that George turned his head away. When he looked back at first the scene seemed unchanged. Laurie Brownscombe still stood, her hands ahead of her. The noise had not attracted attention from the hotel. To the people inside it was just one more firecracker.

Then he realized that Connie was screaming and he saw Russell May lying on his back in the yard. Joe Benson, stiff-armed with a gun in his hand moved into the spotlight.

George walked towards him.

‘He said he was armed.’ Benson’s voice was gentle, almost apologetic. ‘I couldn’t take the chance.’

‘No.’ And wasn’t it better, George thought, to end like this, than with a squalid court case and years in a Texan jail? ‘ No,’ he said again. ‘You couldn’t take the chance.’

‘What did he mean about his daughter? About Laurie having taken her place?’

‘I’ll explain it all to you later. Over a beer.’

Benson lowered his gun and put his hand on George’s shoulder. In the distance they heard drunken singing. ‘ Rule Britannia’ and ‘Land of Hope and Glory.’ Rob and Oliver were celebrating.

First published in 1996 by Macmillan

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