Authors: Pauline Rowson
They weren’t arguing exactly but they didn’t look like they were discussing the weather either. I guessed they were deciding what to do with me, or rather deciding the best way of disposing of me, as they’d already agreed that I should die.
My eyes searched the dim interior looking for a way out but I couldn’t see one. My head was too fuddled to think clearly but unless I did this was it, the end. Davenham glanced my way.
‘He’s conscious,’ I heard him say to Motcombe.
They came towards me. Motcombe was carrying the torch and a gun but it was what was in Davenham’s hand that scared me more than either of those items.
‘It’s all right, Greene, you won’t feel a thing.
Just a sharp injection and the world will cease to exist for you.’
I ran my tongue around my lips and swallowed.
My heart was in overdrive. If it carried on pumping like that they wouldn’t need to use the syringe, I’d keel over with a heart attack.
‘Then what?’ I finally managed to stammer, my voice sounding as though it was coming from a different body.
‘The river. When they fish you out it will look like suicide.’
‘What’s in it?’ I jerked my head at the syringe.
‘Heroin.’
‘Jesus!’ I tried to struggle up but Motcombe’s hand came down firmly on my shoulder.
‘There’s no point in struggling. Ben Lydeway did that but it didn’t make any difference.’
I slumped. ‘You killed him?’
‘At first I thought he might come in useful especially when I found out who his sister was and what had happened to her at university. Your file makes very interesting reading, Adam,’
Motcombe explained coolly. ‘Ben Lydeway believed you’d pushed his sister out of that window and was determined to get his revenge, poor boy. Instead your girlfriend was as high as a kite and probably thought she could fly. Ben had only recently found out what happened to his sister after his mother died and his aunt told him.
The family had emigrated to New Zealand shortly after Alison Lydeway’s death. It was a bonus that he’d attacked your paintings. I thought the police would charge you but they let you go. It would have been better if they had detained you, that way you might have got to live. Still, the police will make the connection eventually. They’ll think you’ve overdosed, killing yourself because you couldn’t live with what you had done, murdering Alison, Ben and Frank Rutland, of course.’
‘What motive have I got for killing Rutland?’
‘We’ll think of one and then plant the evidence.
The police won’t need much persuading as long as they can tick it off their crime figures. You see there’s no way out for you, Adam,’ Motcombe said.
But there had to be. Desperately I searched for a solution but my brain had already shut down.
Then something totally unexpected happened. I could hardly believe my eyes. I thought I must be imagining it. No, there she was. Jody appeared out of the blackness and she was walking towards us.
‘Not giving you any trouble, is he, Pete?’
Motcombe looked surprised for a moment before he smiled. ‘He won’t get the chance.’
‘Good.’
My guts twisted at the scope of her betrayal. I had guessed right, she was in this with Davenham and Motcombe. ‘Bitch!’ I said fiercely She stared at me and said, ‘Better get it over with.’
But Motcombe was looking puzzled. ‘How did you know I was here?’
She dashed a knowing glance at Davenham.
Davenham frowned and glanced at Motcombe.
I could see that Davenham was ruffled. ‘Who the hell is she?’ he snarled.
‘Oh come on, Tim. The time for pretence is over.’ Jody smiled.
‘I don’t know you,’ he spat.
‘He’s lying of course, Pete.’ She addressed Motcombe and moved closer to him. ‘Tim has told me all about his laboratory and how he was going to kill you. Yes, you Pete. Why else do you think he insisted on coming here with you? He wanted to make sure you killed Adam Greene and then afterwards he’s going to kill you.’
‘Rubbish! I never said that. Can’t you see what she’s trying to do?’
But I could see that Jody had struck a chord. It made a great deal of sense. It didn’t take two of them to kill me. Why would Davenham want to soil his hands with murder when he had Motcombe at his beck and call? My brain was beginning to recover.
I said, ‘She’s right, Motcombe. He can’t let you live because you would know too much.
Davenham knows that you’ll bleed him dry, and make his boyfriend pay too. I see Bransbury’s not here to share in the thrills.’
Davenham threw a nervous glance at Motcombe. I pulled at my ropes. I flexed my right hand, trying to ease it out of the loosening bonds. I saw Jody edge towards Motcombe.
Davenham cried, ‘You’re not going to believe him?’
‘Shut up.’ Motcombe eased his body round to face Davenham. I was looking at Jody. I saw something that surprised me. Her eyes swivelled towards me and then flicked down at Motcombe’s gun. I could no longer tell what were lies and what was the truth but I saw her intention quite clearly. My heart was pumping fast.
I said, ‘Maybe there’s enough heroin in that syringe for you, Motcombe, as well as me. Did you know that she’s Drake’s daughter?’
‘What!’ Motcombe spun back to gaze at Jody.
It was enough for Davenham. He plunged the syringe into Motcombe. Motcombe swung back and struck Davenham and the two men fell to the ground as the gun skittered away. Jody dived after it. I struggled against my bonds. The rope gave. I didn’t know how long it would be for the drug to take effect, or for one of them to be shot, but I wasn’t going to hang around and find out.
I glanced at Jody. I didn’t know if I could trust her but I had to take a chance. Besides my heart wouldn’t let me leave her here.
‘Come on.’ I finally freed my hand and grabbed Jody’s arm. But she shook me off.
‘No,’ she shouted. ‘I’ve waited a long time for this.’ She pointed the gun at Davenham. ‘He killed my father and now I’m going to kill him.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Jody leave it!’ But it was too late Davenham lunged out and grabbed Jody’s leg. She toppled over and the gun flew from her hand. Davenham reached for it and got it.
Motcombe made a grab at Davenham.
I hauled Jody to her feet. ‘Run!’ I shouted at her. We needed the torch but couldn’t waste time trying to find it. She didn’t want to run. She wanted to stay. I wrenched at her arm and pulled her away.
As we stumbled away from the sprawling men, I hadn’t the faintest idea where I was going and I was dragging an unwilling Jody with me.
‘Listen,’ I cried breathlessly, spinning her round to face me, as I listened for the sounds of footsteps coming after us. ‘Whatever game you’re playing it’s over. Your father is dead and so is Jack and unless we get out of here
now
we will both be joining them. Is that what you want?
Do you want the world to know that your father was a traitor?’
‘He wasn’t, ’she cried.
‘No one will believe that because Davenham will tell it otherwise. Don’t you see, Jody; we have to live to tell the truth. Now are you coming?’ She nodded. ‘This way. I can hear the river. There must be a way out.’
I could feel the cold air on my face and the pungent smell of the river grew stronger. I heard a shot. We froze and looked back but only the black night greeted us.
‘Careful,’ I cautioned as her foot slipped through a rotting floorboard. ‘It looks as though we’re on the first or second floor; there are holes all over the place. Take my hand.’
We inched our way across the floor, a stone crashed down through a hole, and we heard it fall against the hard concrete below. Slowly, we edged our way towards the current of air and the smell of the river. At one time there was only a steel girder between us and the floor below. It was like some obstacle in a children’s adventure park, I thought, shuffling my feet along it, balancing my body with my arms. But this was no game and there was no soft cushioned special surface to protect us if we fell.
I could hear Jody’s heavy breathing behind me but couldn’t afford to look back at her.
‘There’s some steps. I don’t know how safe they are but we’ll have to chance it. We’ll have to climb down.’ I took her hand, pausing as I thought I heard a noise but I couldn’t be sure where it was coming from.
Painfully slowly we climbed down the steps.
They seemed sturdy enough; the floor below us though was another matter. What I wouldn’t give for a torch. Then as if hearing my plea God lit one; the moon came out from behind the clouds and shone into the building lighting our way. I glanced at Jody who smiled grimly at me. Now we could make better haste. Another flight of steps to the ground floor. Only a few more steps and we’d be by the river and possible escape.
As we raced to the bottom, a figure stepped out. My heart sank. Incredibly it was Davenham.
In his left hand he held a cigarette lighter, in his right Motcombe’s gun. How the hell had he got here so quickly? Where had he come from?
There must have been a quicker, easier way.
Jesus, we had gone up and along whilst he’d simply gone along!
‘That’s far enough,’ he commanded.
The flame on the lighter wavered, the moon went behind a cloud, and without thinking I lunged at Davenham, wrestling him to the ground. The lighter flew from his hand, as I rammed my fist into his face and again.
‘Adam, look,’ Jody screamed.
I snatched a glance over my shoulder to see orange flames licking up the steps we’d just descended. The wood was rotten and dry; already the space was filling with thick, black acrid smoke, stinging my eyes. I scrambled up and stared down at Davenham.
‘No, leave him,’ Jody screamed.
I hesitated. ‘I can’t. He’ll burn to death.’
‘Adam, you must or we’ll be dead.’
She grasped my sleeve. A great crash and the timber fell down inches from me making me leap back. I was coughing. Jody was coughing. At any moment the building would collapse and kill us, or the smoke would get to us. Jack’s death would have been for nothing. I had to get out and tell the truth.
‘Low. Get down low,’ I spluttered. Jody dropped to her knees coughing and choking.
I did the same. ‘On your stomach,’ I bellowed above the roar of the fire.
The hissing, spitting, crackling fire mocked us, leaping around us, taunting us: I’ll get you yet; you can’t escape. We had only seconds to get out.
The heat was intense. The smoke terrifying.
Then suddenly we were in the fresh air, pressed up against a wall, with a deep, black chasm below us. There was only one way out and that was down. As the flames leapt around us, I screamed,
‘Jump, Jody,
jump
.’
I wrapped my arms around her; we teetered on the brink and went over together into the darkness. I just prayed the tide was in or we’d be dead.
The cold water sucked the breath from my body.
For a moment I thought my heart had stopped.
The water was pulling me under. I thrashed out alarmed. Jody. I had to get to Jody.
With a supreme effort I propelled myself upwards. Then I saw her. The river was alight from the fire behind us and I could hear the sound of the fire engines racing towards it. I cried out and swallowed the foul water. I spluttered and swallowed more. If I survived this I’d probably end up with bubonic plague.
Jody swivelled her head. She was treading water.
‘I’m all right,’ she gasped and began to swim towards me.
Beyond her I could see a riverboat heading for us. It could run us down. I began to wave my arm and call out. Jody did the same.
My body was so heavy. I could barely stay afloat; it was taking every last ounce of energy. I was exhausted. The water was pulling me down.
The dirty sludgy river entered my mouth. I spluttered and choked. I couldn’t go on. Then I saw Jody; she was struggling. I had to help Jody.
I tried to swim nearer to her but couldn’t because of the weight I was carrying. The drone of the boat grew nearer. Jody’s head disappeared into the muddy, swirling pool. I had to get to her. I couldn’t let her die. I couldn’t die now, not when help was so close. It was going to run us down. It wouldn’t see us. I raised my hand and shouted. Water entered my mouth. I coughed and spluttered. I felt myself being dragged down.
Then hands were hauling me out. Thank God I was safe. But what about Jody? I tried to speak but couldn’t. Someone put a blanket around me.
Then I heard the words I’d been praying to hear.
‘It’s all right, mate. We’ve got her. She’s OK.’
It was Christmas Day morning. I stood on the pebbled beach at Hayling and stared across the black velvet sea to the twinkling lights of the Isle of Wight recalling my conversation with a thin, acerbic middle-aged man called Bernard from Special Branch.
After overhearing Davenham’s conversation with Bransbury, Bernard had sent Motcombe into Red Watch to discover what Jack was investigating. Then Jack had died and Bernard had enlisted Jody’s help to find out if he’d left any notes. Bernard had known that Jody would do anything to find her father’s killer. He’d also wanted someone to keep an eye on Motcombe whom he suspected of selling out to Davenham.
Someone Motcombe didn’t know. He had used Jody just as he had used me. Jody had known nothing about Davenham, or that Motcombe was in Davenham’s pay.
But now both Jody and I knew the truth and that the Minister was involved. We could expose the secret.
‘Ah, but where’s your proof that Bransbury knew about Davenham inappropriately exporting hazardous cargo,’ Bernard had said.
‘I could make enough noise to make someone take notice, or at least ask some rather pertinent questions. The newspapers perhaps?’
‘I don’t think that would be wise.’
Or healthy, I thought. ‘What about the fire fighters who died from cancer caused by that hazardous waste?’
‘Again, where’s your proof, Mr Greene?’
With Davenham and Drake dead and the Minister professing ignorance yes, where was my proof? Greys had no record of any fire, there was no fire report, and there was no Rutland or Honeyman. There was also no computer disk.
Bernard’s men had searched my boat whilst I was in London and found it.