Stumbling into a well-lit front lounge, where a roaring fire was burning in the grate, the warmth hit him with the same fierceness as the icy wind a second ago. He let go of the handle and steadied himself against the wall. He was fired up by adrenalin, and everything around was sharp in focus and sound. Behind, he could hear Budgie and the others a short way off, and in front Hazel Brown was launching herself from an armchair. The television was on.
“Where’s Jonathan? Where’s Billy?” Hunter screamed.
Hazel stared at him for a second, and then the corners of her mouth curled up and she released a maniacal laugh.
Hunter took a step towards her. “Where the fuck is Jonathan, you bitch?”
She ceased laughing and her face changed, rage burning in her eyes.
The way Hazel attacked was totally unexpected. She launched herself at Hunter, screaming as she came flying at his face with clawing hands. He threw up his arms instinctively to ward her off, but she hit him full on, throwing him backwards against a wall unit. He could hear things crashing around him as the bottom of his spine hit the edge of the cupboard, jarring him, sending a shooting pain down his legs. The impact knocked the wind out of him and he twisted and tried to push himself away, but her hands flew at him again, clawing his face, trying to gouge his eyes.
Snapping shut his eyelids to protect himself, Hunter swung a punch blindly and felt it connect, hearing Hazel yelp. He flashed open his eyes, pushed himself sideways and moved into boxing stance. His face stung like hell, and the base of his back felt like it had been thumped by a hammer.
Hazel had covered her face with her hands, moaning, and as she spread her fingers he saw blood beginning to flow. She glanced at her hands and then looked his way. She gave him such a demonic stare that for a moment he actually felt afraid, and as she removed her hands he saw her mouth was bleeding. With another scream, she tore at him again. This time, Hunter was ready. He ducked away and threw in another punch. It caught the side of her head and her legs folded beneath her, dropping her to the floor like a sack of potatoes. That was when everyone piled into the cottage, pushing their way past Hunter to get to Hazel. She tried to get up, rolling onto her knees, but Budgie and another were on her, spinning her over, pulling at her arms. They had the cuffs on her within seconds.
Hunter was shaking, trying to catch his breath. He looked down at Hazel. Dark make-up was running down from her eyes, and a gash of blood smeared her face, and in that moment, she reminded him of the Joker in The Dark Knight. “Where’s Jonathan?” he yelled.
Hazel just looked at him and laughed, blood bubbling between her teeth.
He took a step towards her, and Budgie pushed himself up, placing himself as a barrier between Hazel and Hunter. “Don’t, Hunter,” he said, through stern lips.
Hunter was about to speak when his phone started ringing, startling everyone, causing them to focus on him. Frowning, he dragged it from his pocket. Only a number flashed on the screen. He answered, “Hello?”
“Is that Detective Kerr?”
“Billy.”
“Listen, if you want your kid to live, do as I say.”
Enraged and yet scared, Hunter listened as Billy Wallace issued instructions.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Hurriedly retracing their steps back to the village, Hunter and Budgie followed the road that took them past the Seigneurie Gardens and on to the track that led to Port du Moulin. The wind and driving rain were coming from the north, buffeting them, and many times they had to brace themselves to avoid being blown sideways. By the time they had reached the beginning of the path leading to the cliffs at Port du Moulin, Hunter’s calves were burning, he was lathered in sweat and gasping for breath. Budgie was in no better state. Slowing his pace to a slog, Hunter swept the way ahead with the torch Budgie had loaned him. As they approached the track to the coastal path, the beam picked out Jock, who was waiting by a fence.
Hunter came to a stop, bending in the middle, resting his hands on his knees, as he drew in air.
“What’s happened?” cried Jock. “Have you not found Jonathan? Has something happened to him?”
Hunter lifted his head. “We know where he is. Billy has him. We’re going for him now.” He forced the words out in between grabbing lungfuls of air.
“Where is he? If that bastard’s done anything…”
Hunter stopped Jock mid-sentence, throwing up his hand. “He says he hasn’t yet, but he’s threatened to. That’s why I rang you. He’s told me to meet him just down here.” Hunter pointed along the path, where it disappeared into darkness. “And he’s ordered that you be there as well.”
“That fucking suits me.” Jock brought up his hands. They were bunched into fists. “Let’s go and get the bastard.”
As Jock turned to steal a march, Hunter planted a hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-stride. “There’s every reason to believe Billy’s armed, Dad. We can’t go running in gung-ho. We have to do this my way.”
The look Hunter received from his dad told him the magnitude of the problem had registered. “It’s you he wants, Dad, you know that.”
Jock nodded.
“But I’m coming as well. In my book that’s two against one, but we’re going to have to box clever if we’re to get Jonathan back.”
Jock dipped his head towards Budgie. “What about your lot?”
“I’ve got some of them on the way, but I’m afraid we aren’t going to be of much help to you. I don’t know if you’ve realised, Jock, but this road leads down to the Window in the Rock. That’s where he’s told Hunter he wants you come. This path is one road in and one road back. That’s it. There’s no other way to get there. He’s been quite clever in selecting this place. He knows the set-up, and he’s told Hunter that if anyone other than you two turn up, Jonathan will be killed, so I daren’t risk coming.”
“Fuck,” Jock cursed.
“It’s a problem, Jock, but not a massive one. I can come with you some of the way, but then I’m going to have to hang back. When my other lads join me, it’s going to mean we’re a couple of hundred yards away. Less than a minute to get to you.”
“Is there no other way at all you can get to this Window in the Rock place?”
Budgie shook his head. “It’s just a hole cut into the rock face. It leads through to a hundred-and-fifty-foot sheer drop to the sea. We can get above it, but the cliffs are too high for us to get down. This path is the only way in.”
“Well, son, it looks like we’re buggered. Billy’s outsmarted us for once.” Rubbing his chin, his face taking on a thoughtful look, Jock said, “What about just me going? It is me he wants.”
“This is my fight as well, Dad. It’s my son he’s got. The bastard’s not getting away with this. I don’t trust him one bit.”
Jock accepted with a sharp nod. “Well, shall we do this, then?” He patted Hunter on the arm twice then held his hand there, squeezing his bicep.
Hunter held his dad’s eyes. For the first time since this had started, he caught strength burning within them. He could see Jock was ready for the fight. “Let’s do it,” he responded, setting off.
The three of them started at a jog, Hunter leading the way, the beam of light from his torch bouncing ahead, picking out their path.
“There’s a bend just up ahead which goes past an old cottage,” announced Budgie between breaths. Once we get to that, I’m going to have to drop back and wait for the others. If I go any further, there’s a likelihood Billy will see me, and we can’t afford for that to happen. After the cottage, the path goes on for a couple of hundred yards, then you’ll come to the Window. Be careful there; the path drops away quite sharply on the left-hand side. The Window is to your right, cut into the rock.”
“Got that,” said Hunter, and he picked up his pace again. By the time they got to the cottage Budgie had mentioned, Hunter’s legs felt heavy as lead; he’d run almost three miles since they had left Hazel Brown’s cottage and all at a fair lick.
&nbs
p; Budgie eased his pace. “This is where I stop. Be careful, you two. All I can say is I wish you luck.”
Hunter bid Budgie a silent goodbye with a quick wave, and he and Jock jogged on. Hunter needed to conserve himself; his energy levels were dropping fast, and he needed to be on top of his game when he confronted Billy.
Sweeping the way ahead with a bright light, Hunter realised they had entered a line of trees. Although he could pick out individual branches as they passed, everything outside the beam was pitch dark, and Hunter realised he needed to be careful. The last thing he wanted was for Billy to take them by surprise, and so he dipped the torch so that the stream of light was only picking out the path ahead.
Thirty seconds later, Hunter and Jock were met by a ferocious gust of wind that took them by surprise. That was quickly followed by a loud roar and a series of crashing noises that Hunter recognised as the sound of the storm-ridden sea. He knew they had now entered the coast path where very soon they would be facing Billy. Recalling what Budgie had warned, Hunter swung the torch left and right, picking out where the path fell away into darkness at his left, and where, to his right, a wall of wet granite made up the steep cliff face that would lead them to the Window in the Rock.
With a degree of trepidation, Hunter pressed forward, ignoring the wind and rain that battered him. He was taking in everything around him, trying his best to pick out any noise above that of the storm. It was eerie.
Suddenly, the torchlight caught the edge of a dark fissure set into the rock and Hunter knew they had found the Window. Taking as wide a berth as possible, he and Jock edged to face it full on, and even though Hunter knew it would leave them exposed, at least this way it put some space between them and the entrance. He swung the beam into the entranceway, but all it met was a black wall. They had no option but to get closer. As Hunter took a step forward, he held his breath. This is where he wished he had the backup of an armed response unit, but there was no chance of that.
“Come in, you two.”
Hunter recognised Billy’s voice coming from inside the Window, but he couldn’t see him. He lowered the torch to the base of the entrance and peered into the dark hole.
Nothing.
“I said come in. That is, if you want to see your son.”
Billy’s voice was even more threatening, and Hunter threw a quick glance at Jock and walked towards the dark doorway, stopping at the entrance.
“Dad!”
Hunter heard his son’s cry before he saw him. He flashed his torch, and five yards ahead was his son, Billy’s hunched body ensnaring Jonathan, one arm curved in front of his neck and the other holding a gun to his head. Both of them pinched their eyes as the powerful beam hit their faces.
“Lower the fucking light, or I shoot him,” snarled Billy.
Hunter could see that the pair were perilously close to the back edge of the Window and so instantly dipped the torch, focusing its light below their chests. For a moment he stood transfixed, his head awash with so many things, trying his best to recall everything from his training and experience. For a second his brain was mush, and then hearing Jonathan begin to cry dragged back his thoughts. Just hearing him, even though it was a cry, told him he was alive. He wanted to rush forward, sweep his son up and give him a big hug. His voice quavering, he said, “Let him go, Billy. He’s done you know harm. It’s us you want.”
“Do you think I fucking wanted this? You’ve caused this! This is about me and your da. I told you not to get involved. This is both your fault.”
Hunter lifted the torch slightly to catch a glimpse of Billy’s face. The first thing he picked out was the scar that snaked from the bridge of his nose and across his cheek. The other thing Hunter noticed was that Billy’s hair was darker, plastered wet to his head, and that he’d shaved off his beard. One thing that hadn’t changed was that menacing stare he had. Total fucking evil. Hunter judged how many strides it was to him, trying to calculate if he could get to the gun before Billy could pull the trigger. He slowly edged his right foot forward.
Billy pressed the gun harder into Jonathan’s head, causing him to yelp. “Stay where you are.”
“Dad!” Jonathan called again.
Hunter put up one hand in surrender, leaving the other where it was, so that the torchlight was still covering Billy and his son. “Easy, Billy. Don’t do anything silly. I’m staying where I am.”
“It’s me you want,” Jock shouted behind him. “Let my son and grandson go, and then it’s just you and me, what do you say?”
A crazed laugh burst from Billy’s mouth. “You’re fucking dead anyway. Stop cowering behind your son or I’ll fucking shoot him before you.”
Despite the threat, Hunter saw that the gun was still pressed firmly to his son’s head. He needed that to change if Jonathan wasn’t to die. Steadying his delivery as best he could, he said, “Billy, it doesn’t need to end this way. This is something we can sort out. You know there’s no way you’re going to get off this island, no matter what plans you think you’ve made. The entire police force in the UK is looking for you, and the Guernsey Police are already on their way. Just drop the gun, Billy, and I’ll put in a good word for you when you go back to prison.”
Billy released another burst of demented laughter. “Go back to prison! Course I know I’m going back to prison. I’m not fucking stupid! But I’ll also go back to prison knowing the grass that caused me all this grief in the first place will be fucking dead. I’ve nothing to fucking lose!” His tongue lashed over his bottom lip. “Now, step out from behind your son, Jock, and let me get a good look at you before I kill you!”
Hunter couldn’t miss the change that was happening in Billy’s face. He had seen the signs a few times in his career. Nothing any of them could say was going to stop Billy from firing that gun. He had to think and move quickly for any of them to get out of this alive.
Suddenly, Billy pulled the gun from Jonathan’s head, and although his aim was in Hunter’s direction, his eyes went right past him, fixing on Jock. “Do as I say, Jock. Step out where I can see you.”
This was Hunter’s chance. As calmly as possible, he said, “Jonathan, don’t be scared. Remember what I told you about stranger, danger.” As he finished his sentence, he sensed movement behind him.
“Let my grandson go, Billy. If you want to kill me, I’m here.”
Hunter realised Jock was moving into the firing line, and he saw that Billy had shifted the gun to somewhere beyond his shoulder. Without warning, Hunter yelled, “NOW!” while at the same time throwing up the beam of his powerful Maglite, hitting Billy full in the face, dazzling him.
As Billy fired off a wild shot, everything seemed to unfold in slow motion. Hunter saw Jonathan pull sharply forward and down, exactly as he’d taught him. That caused Billy to lose his balance, releasing his grip around his son’s neck. Then, dragging up a leg, Jonathan snapped it back fiercely, ramming Billy on the right shin. Billy yelped as Jonathan half-spun and pushed away with both hands. Jonathan’s blow caught Billy full on the chest and he staggered back, firing off another shot that hit the roof, ricocheting away in a shower of sparks. And then, as he fought to gain his balance, his heels caught a lump of granite, and suddenly he was falling backwards, hands clawing at air. A second later, he was tumbling through the opposite gap of the Window, letting out a bloodcurdling scream of panic, and a split-second after that, Billy had dropped out of view, only his terror-stricken call telling them he was still alive. Two seconds later, there was silence.
For a moment Hunter froze, a cluster of stars exploding and dancing at the back of his eyes, and he could hear the roar of blood shooting from one side of his skull to the other. It was only brief; Jonathan’s call snapped him out of his trance. Jonathan was running towards him, and he scooped him up in both arms, pulling him into his chest, embracing him. He could feel a flush of tears wash over his eyes as relief overcame him.
“Grandad!”
At first, Hunter thought Jonathan’s call
was for a hug, but then just as quickly he caught an edge of concern in the tone, and he snapped his look backwards to where he’d last seen Jock. What he saw pulled him up sharply. Jock was lying in a crumpled heap, an arm flung across his chest, blood seeping through his jacket.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Sat in an armchair beside a fire that was down to glowing embers, Hunter cradled a tumbler of whisky, trying his best to unwind but failing miserably. The images from that evening were replaying themselves over and over, refusing to stop, and he was on his second whisky, hoping to dull his jangled nerves.
He looked across to the sofa where Beth and Jonathan lay. They were cuddled together in a throw, Jonathan’s head resting in her lap, eyes closed, Beth weaving her fingers through his tumble of dark hair. Hunter studied his son’s peaceful look and wondered how he was going to be affected by what had happened. It would be something in the ensuing days, even weeks, that he and Beth would have to monitor and deal with. Beth was better equipped than him to cope — with her skills as a nurse — but he knew he would have to be there for Jonathan as well and give every bit of support he could, no matter how small. He certainly was going to be there when he was interviewed; the police from Guernsey would want to speak to him, that was unavoidable, and that was where he could help best — by ensuring that Jonathan wasn’t going to made to feel as if he was to blame for what happened to Billy. He was going to protect him at all costs.
Hunter took another slug of whisky, saw it was almost gone and emptied the glass with another swallow. “Shall we go up?”
Beth lifted her head and offered him a weak smile. “I’m ready if you are. I think Jonathan is.”
“I’m not surprised, with what he’s been through.” Hunter pushed himself up. “I’ll just give this glass a quick rinse, put the fireguard up, then I’ll be up.”
Hunted: A psychotic killer is out for revenge... (THE DS HUNTER KERR INVESTIGATIONS Book 6) Page 20
