The Drowning Tide (Blair Dubh Trilogy #2) (27 page)

CHAPTER 28

Craig’s lungs burned as he raced towards the castle accompanied by two of the younger village men, his heart sinking when he saw how high the tide was. They didn’t have the time or equipment to get the man out via the castle like they’d got Freya out. There was no choice, they had to use the rock-cut passage in the cliff that would lead them straight into the base of the oubliette.

Quickly they scaled the jagged rocks, the water splashing up at them, the rush of water pulling at their legs. If they didn’t hurry there was a danger they would be dragged in. The white horses raced at them harder, one wave hitting the rocks and engulfing him. He clung on as the cold water clawed at him, trying to pull him back with it. Craig gripped onto the rock harder, grimacing as it cut into the skin of his palms, for one brief horrible moment convinced the tide was going to drag him away but when it receded he was still safely on land. He recalled how Martin Lynch had looked after they’d pulled him out of the water and shivered. He would not share the same fate.

“We’ve got to do this now,” Craig yelled over the roar of the waves, water dripping down his face, the two men accompanying him equally drenched and scared yet determined. Craig experienced a flare of pride in his fellow villagers.

They scampered across the rocks, Craig breathing a sigh of relief when they entered the narrow rock cut passageway. He ignored the pain as the small rocks and detritus left by the receding of the last waters bit into his knees and hands, concentrating on crawling towards the crumpled figure lying on the ground who regarded him with wide terrified eyes, screaming into the gag to get him out.

“Are you hurt?” Craig asked him, pulling the gag from his mouth.

He groaned and nodded. “He broke some of my fingers and ribs.”

“Shit. In that case this is going to hurt. We can’t stabilise your injuries before we get you out of here, not without us all drowning.”

“Do it,” he grimaced.

Craig hauled the man to a sitting position, supporting his weight on one side, and together they crawled towards the exit. Kennedy’s hands were still cuffed behind his back so Craig had to drag him along. The rapidly rising water tried to knock them over with its force, pouring into their mouths and splashing in their eyes in an attempt to drown them. Craig gagged as he swallowed the horrible salty water, gasping for breath, frantically blinking to clear his vision. By the time they reached the end of the passage it was nearly up to their necks, furiously pouring in, hampering their progress. Even though it was the height of summer the water was still icy cold, squeezing the breath out of them in shallow pants, making them shiver uncontrollably.

Craig ordered the two younger men out first then hauled the detective towards them. They caught him in their arms and dragged him back along the rocks, pressing themselves against the cliff every time the waves crashed against the shore. Craig was almost pushed back into the passage as the water rushed in, the cold making him gasp for breath. As the tide receded back out he made a desperate leap, managing to jump clear of the mouth of the passage before the next rush of water pushed him back inside forever. He scrambled along the rocks, his numbed hands fighting to grip onto the rocks, hurrying to catch up with the others. He just managed to jump onto the grassy side of the hill before the next waves were thrown against the shore.

The three of them dragged Kennedy to higher ground then fell back, puffing and panting and dripping wet, revelling in the warmth of the sun. Craig rubbed his hands together, the sensation returning.

“Docherty…he’s here,” murmured Kennedy, limbs trembling, face white and pinched with pain and fear.

“It’s okay we’ve got him,” said Craig.

“Freya, save Freya.”

“She’s safe.”

“Thank God,” said Kennedy before passing out.

Bill and Gordon listened to Docherty spitting threats at Freya, who fortunately had been helped up onto the dock so she couldn’t hear.

“I’ll kill you bitch. I escaped once I can do it again. I’ll fucking gut you and feed you to the fish.”

Bill released a weary sigh and looked to Gordon. “He’s never going to leave her alone.”

“He’ll be locked away where he can’t touch her.”

“They tried that once and look what happened. What if he does manage to escape again?”

“I don’t think it’s likely.”

“But it’s a possibility. She’ll spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. That’s not fair, especially after everything she’s been through.”

Gordon’s eyes locked with his. “What are you saying?”

“We both know what sort of man this is. He’s just like the animals who killed my Bren and your Isla.”

Gordon’s eyes flickered with pain.

“We finally have the chance to do something about it. We couldn’t save our wives but we can save Freya.” Bill was filled with a sense of purpose for the first time since Brenda was murdered. The feeling was so strong that he thought this was why he’d been put on this earth, to eradicate this monster. It was also the opportunity he’d been waiting for to relieve himself of the crushing weight of his guilt about what he’d done to Freya. He could finally atone for his sin. No matter the outcome of his actions he would take any punishment willingly, even gladly because he would finally be free.

Gordon looked down at the struggling man and hate filled his eyes. He was just like Logan and Lynch, his sole purpose to kill and hurt. He thought of his beautiful Isla with her golden hair and smiling eyes and was decided.

The two men communicated their agreement with a single nod. No words were needed.

Bill looked around to see if anyone was watching but Mandy was back on her feet and screeching abuse at the assembled crowd, some of whom looked shocked by her revolting language, others laughing and pointing, which only fuelled her rage.

“On your feet,” said Bill, hauling Docherty upright and dragging him towards the woods. The beach curved along the edge of it, so it took them barely ten seconds to reach the cover of the trees.

Adam opened his mouth to alert everyone when he saw Bill and Gordon dragging the man away but Fred put a hand on his arm and shook his head. Adam closed his mouth. Fred was the wise man of the village. If he said it was okay then it was.

“What the fuck are you doing? I demand you tell me,” said Docherty as he was led deeper into the woods.

Gordon and Bill didn’t respond, pushing him forwards whenever he stopped.

“What are you going to do, beat me up? Teach me a lesson? Or are you going to shag me up the arse? That’s what all you country folk like to do, isn’t it? It’s like fucking Deliverance around here,” he laughed. Despite his bravado he was nervous. They looked like they could do him some real damage, especially the one with the beard, he’d never seen such enormous hands in his life.

“Keep walking,” said Bill, shoving him in the shoulder, sending him stumbling forwards.

“This is fucking stupid. If you hurt me the polis will find me and arrest you.” He grinned maniacally. “My time on the force taught me that the law cares more about the perpetrator than the victim. Your actions as well as Supercop’s will ensure I get years knocked off my sentence. Police brutality followed by an attack by vigilantes. I’ll only serve a few years then I’ll be back on the streets.”

“You tried to strangle Freya,” said Gordon.

“What the fuck will that matter when everyone finds out Donaldson tried to drown me. The law won’t give a shit about her, what was done to me is most important. That stupid bastard has already damaged the case against me. I’ll blame it all on the mad redhead. Five years tops then I’ll be a free man.”

Bill and Gordon glanced at each other. Somehow they knew he was right, which only made them more determined to proceed.

Docherty took their look to mean they were weakening. “Just let me go,” he pressed. “I won’t mention any of this. You can go back to your nice quiet lives and forget all about it.”

Bill sighed and looked to Gordon, who nodded.

“Well done Gentlemen, you’re doing the right thing,” smiled Docherty.

“You’d better get running,” replied Bill.

Without needing to be told twice Docherty spun on his heel and fled, crashing through the bracken, leaping over fallen logs with the agility of a hare, which wasn’t easy with his hands tied behind his back.

When he came upon a sudden drop he skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding falling down an almost vertical slope. He peered into the pit, the bottom carpeted with moss and old dead leaves just about visible. Looking back he saw the two men had followed him, walking casually. They knew he’d head away from the village and they knew he’d end up here, unable to go any further.

For the first time since he was a little boy he felt close to tears. Being trapped by these men reminded him of Murphy towering over him, the glint in his eye telling him what he was going to do to him.

Stupid little bastard,
echoed Murphy’s voice in his head.

“You can’t live, not after what you did to that girl,” said Bill solemnly. “She’s got a good life ahead of her and you’re not spoiling it.”

Docherty trembled with fear. He was going to be murdered by these two fucking Ayrshire farmers in an isolated wood. No, it couldn’t end like this. It just couldn’t. “I don’t want to die,” he wailed, bursting into tears.

Bill and Gordon’s expressions were stony. “You’re only big and tough when you’re hurting women. This place seems to attract scum like you,” said Bill. “Well we’re not having it anymore. You hurt one of us, you hurt all of us. This isn’t just for Freya but for every woman who’s died in this village at the hands of evil men.”

Resigned to his fate Docherty slumped to his knees, quietly sobbing.

Bill cupped his jaw with his big hands. “This is for Freya and Isla.” He closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky, which was hidden by the thick canopy of trees that blocked out most of the light, turning it into a place of cold dark dead things. “And for you Bren,” he whispered before wrenching Docherty’s head to the side.

It was quick and quiet. Bill hadn’t known what to expect, he’d only ever broken the necks of chickens before. Not much different really, you just had to twist harder. Bill pushed his body down the ravine, watched it tumble over and over on itself, heard the snap of twigs and breaking bones as it crashed its way to the bottom. Then all went still.

“It’s done,” said Bill.

“Let’s go back,” said Gordon.

By the time they’d emerged from the woods the village had once again been swamped with police vehicles and ambulances. Steve and Gary jogged up to them followed by a couple of dog handlers. “What happened to Docherty?”

“The eejit ran in there and fell down the ravine,” replied Bill. “We can’t see where he went but it’s a steep drop. With a bit of luck the bastard’s dead.” The lie tripped easily off his tongue but only because he didn’t give a shit if he did get caught out. He must have been convincing because they didn’t bat an eyelid.

“This way,” called Steve.

“Now hang on a minute. Who’s sergeant here?” said Hughes, bustling up to them, a massive egg-shaped lump on the side of his head.

“What happened to you?” said Bill.

“Mandy happened,” frowned Gary. “Fell for her charms, didn’t he?”

“PC Reid you will only speak when spoken to,” barked Hughes.

“What have I told you about treating these lads with respect?” frowned Bill. Killing Docherty had empowered him and he was tempted to do the same to the fud.

It must have shown in his eyes because some of Hughes’s pomposity evaporated. “Right now we have a dangerous criminal to catch, that’s all I meant.”

Bill thrust his face into his. “It better be.”

“These two witnesses say Docherty ran in here and fell down a gorge. We thought it might be a good idea to check it out,” said Steve, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“I’m in charge, I call in the dog handlers, not you. This way,” replied Hughes, jumping back when one of the dog’s growled at him on its way into the woods.

“Good doggie,” said Gary, making Steve grin.

Craig wrapped an arm around Freya, trying to shield her from the tourists. As the police weren’t allowing anyone into the village some of them had chartered boats and floated on the water holding their mobile phones up in the air and Craig cursed that invention.

They were waiting for Freya to be taken to hospital to get checked over but Mad Mandy was going off on one and the paramedics as well as the police had her surrounded, attempting to sedate her before taking her away. She hissed and spat at them like a rabid animal, intermittently calling out Craig’s name. He had been asked to assist them by talking her down but he refused to leave Freya’s side to attend to that witch. What the hell had he ever seen in her?

“So Kennedy’s going to be okay?” Freya asked him.

“Fine. He’d been beaten up a bit and swallowed some water but he’ll be alright. His wife gave birth to a healthy baby girl three hours ago.”

“That’s nice. Thank you for saving him.”

“I didn’t do it alone.”