BLINDFOLD (43 page)

Or did he know? Had Joey confirmed his words by way of some silent signal? Was it, after all, just part of some elaborate plot? Gideon made himself think logically. What could either of them possibly gain by keeping up the deception? All they would have to do was step outside the door and grab him. The way he felt, if he moved too fast he'd probably fall over and Joey knew that, even if Slade didn't.

`So, who's the other bozo? `Joey asked. `Why isn't he doing this?'

`What is this? Twenty soddin' questions? Because he's a hamfisted idiot, if you must know. He's already dropped one of them and broken the frame. I can't afford that at maybe half a million a time. Now shut up and hold that corner tight.'

There were two of them left, then. Gideon wished he knew whereabouts in the room Tim and Naomi were. Presumably they were tied and gagged. He felt sure Naomi wouldn't have stayed quiet otherwise. Did the `other bozo' have a weapon?

`Smithy, Curly, Whatsisface over there - why so many?'Joey persisted.

`Because there are eight pictures and they're bloody heavy! What did you think I was going to do? Tuck four under each arm? Where the shit has Smithy got to? He should have been back by now. Am I surrounded by imbeciles?'

There was a significant pause and then Slade said with heavy emphasis, `Who did slug Curly? If there's someone else about, then why haven't they found this place yet? You did.'

`Actually, I hit him,' Joey admitted. `But he started it. Tried to stop me coming down.'

`You did? What the hell are you playing at?' Slade sounded understandably testy. `Well, where's Smithy, then? And what about Renson? He should've been here by now.'

If Slade didn't know where Joey was coming from, he wasn't the only one. Gideon was struggling to keep up with his constant changes of direction. He could only hope that confusion was part of his plan, if indeed he had one.

`Choppers go wrong,' Joey suggested helpfully.

`You're fucking me around!' Slade cut in abruptly. There was a sharp click followed by deep silence, then he spoke again. `If you're out there, Blake, you should know there's a gun pointed at your sister's head. Your little game is over. You may as well come in.' Shit! Gideon thought. Now what?

The silence lengthened as he desperately tried to weigh his options. If he did as Slade said he was surely throwing away any chance for Naomi or himself. But if he didn't and Slade carried out his implied threat, the consequence was unthinkable. On the other hand, did Slade even know for sure that Gideon was out there? He could be bluffing.

Whilst he wavered Joey spoke again. Soft, joshing; no sign that he was on a knife-edge. `Oh, come on, pal. You're not serious? What d'you think he's doing? Standing outside the door listening? You're getting paranoid!'

`He could have come looking for his sister,' Slade pointed out with unsettling accuracy. `He wouldn't have any trouble dealing with Curly, he's a powerful bastard, you told me that yourself.'

Oh, no, no trouble at all, Gideon thought ironically. He could feel the sticky warmth of blood on his neck and scalp even as he stood there.

`Well, whatever,' Joey said dismissively. `Blake's no friend of mine, so do me a favour and point that thing somewhere else. I don't know why the hell you think I'd team up with him.'

Slade grunted. `Because you've got principles, and that makes you unpredictable,' he said.

Gideon was unwillingly impressed by his perception, but whatever Slade's reservations, after a moment he heard the crackle of plastic once more.

Behind him, without warning, Smithy stirred and groaned. Gideon whipped round but Smithy already had his eyes open and was drawing breath to shout. Hating to do it, Gideon bounced the unfortunate man's head off the concrete wall with his foot.

. He wasn't quite quick enough. Just before contact was made, Smithy managed to utter the beginnings of a warning shout, and even as he subsided again, Gideon heard Slade swear and there was a flurry of violent activity inside the room, followed by a stifled but unmistakably feminine cry.

Fear for his sister overrode any thoughts of personal safety. Gideon pushed the heavy door wide and plunged straight in, eyes instinctively seeking out Naomi's figure before all else but compelled to stop instead on Slade.

He was standing in the far corner of the room, surrounded by pictures and packaging, with Joey a pace or two in front and to one side of him. As Gideon entered the room Slade was looking straight at him, a roll of parcel tape in his right hand and a small but deadly pistol in the other.

The pistol was pointing unwaveringly at Gideon's chest.

SEVENTEEN

THE ROUND, BLACK MUZZLE of the gun was a very effective brake. Gideon stopped so suddenly he almost overbalanced. From his right he heard another muffled sound of alarm from Naomi but he didn't look across. Even had he done so, he didn't feel that a reassuring smile would be very credible in the circumstances.

`So, Gideon Blake. Come to join our little party,' Slade purred. `My cup runneth over.'

Gideon dragged his eyes away from Slade's left hand. The pistol looked plastic, like a toy. Hard to think that such a tiny black hole could deliver such a deadly payload. Too much to hope that Slade was really right-handed.

He transferred his gaze, with an effort, to Slade's smoothly handsome face. There were triumph and vicious intent there, in equal measures. The small gold ring in his ear gleamed in the light of the overhead bulb.

The bulb. Gideon wondered for a fleeting second if he could smash it with the torch but dismissed the idea. Even if he managed it, and with the pain in his side he wasn't at all certain that his aim

would be true, the best he could hope for was chaos, and with the gun in his hand, Slade was best placed to take advantage of that. `I wouldn't,' Slade remarked.

`I wasn't going to,' Gideon said. There was a pause during which he felt that everyone must be able to hear the heavy pounding of his heart, and he risked a quick glance round the room.

It was bigger than the others they had looked into, with contemporary if minimalist furnishings comprising one leather swivel-based chair, a small round table, and what looked like a drinks cabinet. The walls were covered with some sort of hessian and each one supported two chrome picture lights. One picture remained hanging, one was half-packed in bubble-wrap, and the others leaned against the far wall behind Slade, swathed in plastic and brown tape.

Milne's private gallery.

All this Gideon absorbed in an instant before shifting his gaze over his right shoulder towards Naomi. She and Tim were sitting propped against the wall, bound at the wrist and ankle with quantities of brown parcel tape and gagged with what looked like dusters. Their faces reflected the severe strain they were under and Naomi's eyes met Gideon's imploringly. More than averagely resilient, she nevertheless appeared near the end of her tether. Tim also looked dazed and disbelieving.

Gideon returned his gaze to Slade and said in a surprisingly steady voice, `So what now?'

`Now we put you with your precious sister and her boyfriend, and you can all keep each other company when I leave and turn out the lights.'

`All because I spoilt your little game with the horses?' Gideon asked incredulously.

`Oh, that! No, that was a nuisance but I was getting tired of it anyway. It was too bloody slow. And I'd had enough of working with gutless, whingeing amateurs.'

`So you blew up Tom Collins' cottage and him with it.'

`The stupid bastard wasn't even supposed to be there!' Slade said contemptuously. `He rang me in a panic, saying you were on to us and almost blubbering with fear, so I told him to stay at home and I'd take care of you. He thought I was just going to slap your wrist and ask you politely to mind your own business but I had something a bit more permanent in mind. I'd had about enough of you poking your nose where it wasn't wanted.'

`He just can't stand to be crossed, can you, pal?' Joey commented. He was standing a few feet to the right of Slade and nearer the wall. `Whether there's fifty grand at stake or just a parking space, he can't bear to be beaten.'

If Joey had been trying to distract Slade's attention, it didn't work. The dark eyes didn't waver as he said quietly, `Shut up, Joey! I'll deal with you in a minute.'

`Well, you've won in the end,' Gideon pointed out reasonably. He had no real expectation that reason would weigh with Slade but he didn't know what else to try. He would rather, by far, have been dealing with a dangerous animal, however unpredictable. `What have you got to gain by killing us? You've got the pictures and you've got the helicopter waiting.' He tried not to linger on the thought of Renson locked inside it and the key - heaven knows where. 'Naomi and Tim have got nothing to do with any of this. At least let them go.'

Slade smiled nastily. `Why should I? Why should you get to be the hero? This way you'll have time to remember that if you hadn't been such a persistent pain in the backside, they wouldn't be dying in this shit-hole with you.'

`Somebody will find us. Logan knows I'm here somewhere.' `Yeah, but how soon? What if something were accidentally to block the ventilation shaft? How long do you think the air would last? Each of these rooms is individually sealed, you know.'

A low chuckle came from the other side of the room and Gideon glanced across to where Joey's bozo stood, enjoying the show. He was of medium height and thickset, possibly an exboxer by his facial scars, but something less than a heavyweight in the brains department if first impressions were anything to go by. Gideon dismissed him as of little account.

`Hey, you! Catch!' Slade tossed the roll of tape towards the grinning man. `Bind him up tight. But, whatever you do, don't get in my line of fire.'

Gideon made a snap decision. Once bound, his chances would be virtually non-existent. So, as the man began to move towards him, Gideon began to walk towards Slade, feeling that it would be better to try and force his hand in the hope he could be pushed into making a mistake, than submit meekly to a certain fate.

`Stand still!' Slade said immediately.

Gideon ignored him, but he wasn't dealing with another Curly or even a Duke Shelley; Slade's brain was ten times quicker and he wouldn't be rattled so easily. As Gideon continued to walk he saw, too late, where his gamble was leading. With no further warning, Slade set his jaw and calmly swung his gun-hand away from Gideon and towards Naomi.

With a mouth that was suddenly dry with fear, Gideon stopped in his tracks.

`No!' he begged, putting out a hand as if to stay Slade's arm, but he was still feet away and had no hope of reaching him. As if in slow motion he saw Slade's knuckle whiten as his finger tightened on the trigger and, vaguely aware that across the room, Joey was starting to move, Gideon launched himself forward in a futile attempt to throw Slade off balance.

He didn't make it.

`No!' Gideon's anguished cry was lost in the sharp crack of the gun as, simultaneously, Slade's henchman took him in a crashing, rugby-style tackle from the side. As he hit the ground, Gideon heard a terrified squeal from Naomi and wide-eyed, with a horror verging on panic, twisted desperately under the weight of his assailant to try and see his sister.

With his face pressed uncomfortably firmly to the heavy-duty carpet, Gideon's field of vision was somewhat limited but mercifully he could just see Naomi. She was staring at Slade with a mixture of terror and disbelief in her eyes but as far as Gideon could make out, somehow, miraculously, Slade's shot had missed her.

Before he had time to make sense of the situation, the fifteen stone or so of thug that had wrestled him to the ground twisted his fingers in Gideon's hair and jerked his head up and backwards. He gasped as his spine took the pressure and pain knifed through his side.

`Should get yer hair cut, girlie!' a coarse, garlicky voice breathed in his ear. `On yer feet. And I don't want no trouble.'

Gideon wasn't at all sure he could make it to his feet but his captor thoughtfully assisted him, with his hand still firmly twisted in Gideon's hair. It was either get his feet under him somehow or risk having a painfully large handful pulled out by the roots. It was wonderful what you could do if you tried.

Just as he reached something approaching vertical, another shot rang out, and a sound like a bee in flight passed his ear, surprising an oath from the man behind him. Through watering eyes, Gideon became aware that across the room Joey and Slade were locked in a deadly wrestling match, the bigger man evidently badly hampered by the need to keep Slade's gun-hand from pointing at himself or any of the other hapless occupants of the room.

The bozo started to fidget, as if he felt it incumbent upon himself to go to the aid of his boss, so before his resolution hardened, Gideon provided a distraction by sagging at the knees and reeling back against him as if in a faint.

Sagging and reeling was not, as far as he knew, listed as a karate technique but for the moment it was all Gideon could manage, and it worked. The man behind him staggered slightly and swore as he took Gideon's weight but it seemed to have put all thoughts of rushing to Slade's aid out of his head.

As he was hauled upright once more - though thankfully not by his hair - Gideon could see that despite being a good six inches shorter and goodness knows how many pounds lighter, Slade was, incredibly, gaining the upper hand over Joey. With his face set in a mask of vicious determination he was slowly but surely drawing the taller man's arm in towards his body, with the obvious intention of turning the gun on him. Joey's expression was a grimace of pain and effort. Sweat beaded and ran from his forehead, and it was clear to Gideon that he was in desperate trouble.

Drawing on reserves of strength he'd thought long exhausted, he got his feet under him a second time, and before his captor had time to step away, drove his head back to smash him brutally in the face, much as he had done to Curly in the front hall of the Gatehouse, what seemed a lifetime ago.

The result was much the same, too. The man staggered back, cursing, and received a vicious elbow to the ribs to add to his woes. Gideon left him doubled up and stumbled to Joey's aid, hesitating involuntarily as Slade's gun went off again, the bullet burying itself harmlessly in the ceiling.