"And what did Mum and Dad think of their rebel son, off on his adventures to unknown lands?" asked Mary.
"Well, Mum didn't say much, just grumbled as usual," said Angus. "Dad was dead against me going. Said I'd regret it and predicted all sorts of painful and immoral things. I actually think he'll be missing me but couldn't say so."
"You'll be right, Angus, for you've always been there," said Mary. "It'll be a wrench for them. And now I've finished me whisky, Angus, I really do need some sleep." She got up and pulled the bed clothes back. "We can talk more in the morning."
"Aye lass, lots more to talk about," said Angus, finishing his drink. "Good night, Mary."
An Inside Job
Tuesday, 13th March 2012, 4.33 p.m.
As the shadows of late afternoon stretched their darkening fingers across the expansive lawns and solid walls, the house was quiet. Unusually quiet. Deathly quiet.
Two men were unconscious and the plump bodyguard was standing over them, as if wondering what the heck to do next. He'd never actually hit anybody before and he wondered, in panic, if he'd gone too far. He stood and gazed at the prone figures, uncertainly.
In the kitchen the six had been stopped by the yelling, crashing, grunting and thumping in the corridor through the wall. They looked at one another and seemed to have the same confused mind. Do they rush out and help Arthur and be injured themselves? Do they creep out to find a band of thugs waiting for them? Do they continue through to the office and find the thugs there? The unknown, as always, posed a greater threat than the known and they didn't know much - where they were, who they were saving, why they were saving him/her/them and who was waiting round dark corners for them all.
"Time to move!" whispered Amanda decisively, taking out her pistol.
"Amanda! You can't go shooting people!" pleaded Martin in a hoarse whisper, his eyes nearly popping out.
"And your idea is?" Amanda asked quietly.
"Oh, ah, yes, I see ..." said Martin. "But we can't have guns ... they kill."
"And someone's not dead already?" whispered Amanda, pushing past Martin. "And who's going to be next?"
"Oh, gosh, but we can't just ... let's talk about this," pleaded Martin, going quite pale.
"Dominik, you take the rest through to the office and around," whispered Amanda. "I'll go this way."
"But you can't just go ... you know ... shooting people," whispered Martin, grabbing Amanda's arm.
"So, you come with me, mate," said Amanda, shaking off his grip. "You can keep me from killing someone." She continued out the door to the corner.
"I'll come with you two," said Toby, launching himself out of indecision mode.
Joan held up her hands and smiled to Dottie as if to say, 'whatever we do, it's a mess'. Dottie nodded and smiled back, grimly, and they followed Dominik to the back of the kitchen, to a door that must have remained closed for many years. Dominik grimaced as the door creaked and groaned, despite his efforts to open it quietly. He opened it enough for them to slip through, one by one. The three found themselves in the dark, but for light sneaking through the half-opened door from the kitchen. The uneven cobbles and the cobwebs impaired their progress in the shoulder-width passage. They scrambled along sideways and it was soon obvious that Dominik had no idea where to find the door into the office.
"There's got to be a torch somewhere," said Joan, awkwardly squeezing herself back into the kitchen. Dottie followed her and they rummaged through drawers and cupboards as quietly as they could. In the corridor they heard a man's shout, Amanda's yell, a thud and then silence. Joan's instinct was to rush out to help Arthur but her logical mind told her to leave it to the professionals who would help him more than she could. Her prayers went out to him as she returned to their search for light. They found candles and an old box of matches.
Back in their dark, dank passage, they fumbled with matches, lit three candles and handed one to Dominik. It was good to see a little more till Joan spied a large spider, then another, then another and she desperately tried to hold back a rising bile as she saw this space between walls was overrun by insects of all kinds. She would have leant back against the wall to steady herself but realised she'd be leaning into nests of spiders and other unmentionable critters. It was only Dominik's sigh of relief - she hoped it was relief - as he was scratching around the wall, ahead of her. There was a rattle of metal - a chain? - and bumping on wood.
"Ugh! Door is bloody locked!" said Dominik, more to himself that the two women. "Oh, sorry about swear. Sorry."
"Swear all you bloody well like!" whispered Dottie, obviously anxious to escape the wall cavity.
"I think I make like a bull," said Dominik, chuckling. "Stand back. May be splinters." He groaned and thumped and Joan braced herself for what was to come, whatever that was. The door was obviously an obstinate one and withstood many grunts and thumps from Dominik, who had little room to swing his weight in. Suddenly their cavity was flooded with light and Dominik fell out of the cavity and into a room. Dottie and Joan followed soon after, relieved to be out of their confinement. As three dirty, cobwebbed people popped out into the room, they were momentarily blinded by the light. As their eyes grew accustomed to the light, they realised the large office was filled with people - presumably the Lord and Lady and their servants, gardeners, cooks, livery staff and so on - all tied up and looking at them expectantly.
As Amanda looked around the corner she could see mayhem amid the lavishly decorated Victorian corridor. There was broken wood and ceramics piled about and, amongst that, two prone men. One was Arthur and her heart went out to that gentle man. She resisted the strong urge to rush to him for, amid the bodies and the wreckage, stood a rotund man dressed as a security guard. And that's what he did - stood. His back was to her and he wasn't moving except for his head which was nodding a little as if he was talking to himself. His lack of movement confused her and she waited till she knew how to approach him.
Martin bumped into her, knocking her into the passage.
"Oh, sorry," said Martin.
The man turned and then a blur passed by her as Toby, she realised, flew at the tubby guard, feet first. Amanda yelled but too late. Toby had felled the man and sat astride him with his good hand at the man's throat. There was a thump beside her and she saw Martin sprawled on the floor. There had been no shot and nothing of his seemed to be broken so she surmised he'd fainted. She dashed to help Toby, grabbing the man's limp hands and hand-cuffed him. The guard looked terrified and seemed unable to resist.
"Please Miss, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ..." the guard said, babbling as Toby let his throat go. "I never done this before ... I didn't mean to ... I promise ... I didn't mean to ..."
"Ah, shut up!" commanded Toby, still sitting on the man's chest as he held his strapped-up arm with the other hand, grimacing.
"You okay Toby?" whispered Amanda.
"Don't know. It might have popped out again," said Toby in obvious pain. "But I'm alive and conscious. Let's see to these chaps first."
"Ow, these handcuffs hurt!" complained the guard as Amanda hauled him to his feet.
"Hurt? You ain't seen nothing yet, mate!" said Amanda, smiling grimly. "You check the others while I tie this whining baby up." She deftly swung the guard around and had him sitting on the floor with his hand-cuffed hands over his head, hooked over the brass door handle.
"Wow! That was neat," said Toby as he leant down to feel Arthur's pulse. "Yep, he's alive."
"And so's this one," said Amanda. "Quite a loss of blood. We need to patch him up somehow."
"I need some help here," said Toby, struggling with one arm. Between them they got Arthur into the recovery position. "His breathing's faint but regular and he's got a huge gash and bruise on the side of his head."
"Yeah, really need a medic," said Amanda quietly, continuing to look around like a fox at its quarry, scanning constantly for predators.
"Oh, of course, Dottie's a nurse. She fixed me up!" said Toby quietly. "Hell, she's go
ne the other way."
There was a groan up the passage and they both realised they'd forgotten Martin, who was rousing himself with obvious confusion ... and perhaps embarrassment, thought Amanda.
"Aha, Martin, can you see if you can find Dottie and get her back here?" asked Toby quietly as he leapt up to help Martin stand up.
"What? Who? Ah, Dottie?" asked Martin, holding his head, looking confused.
"We need medical help and Dottie's the closest," explained Toby, steadying Martin. "And keep your voice down."
"But I need medical help. I've got a sore head ... and my knee ..." said Martin with a little more clarity this time.
"Yes, but you can stand and walk," said Toby. "Look at Arthur - he's lost some blood and the other chap's lost a lot more," Martin started to stagger as he looked at the prone bodies and saw the blood. "Look, let's get you round the corner, away from that sight," said Toby, helping him into the kitchen and leaning him against a bench.
"Yeah, just don't like blood and stuff," said Martin, his pallid face beginning to fill with colour. "I ... I just never expected this. I didn't, you know."
"No, nor did we," said Toby. "Now, Arthur, your dad, needs medical help urgently. Can you see if you can find where the others went and get Dottie back here? And your mum too."
"Dad? He's the one on the floor isn't he! Oh hell!" said Martin, suddenly joining the dots. "Where'd they go? Through here?" he asked, indicating the open door.
"Probably. You find Dottie and we'll keep your father as comfortable as possible and make sure no others get to him ... or to us," said Toby.
"Others? Oh shit, I never thought of that!" said Martin, his eyes widening. "How many others are there?"
"We don't know. Just get Dottie, will you," said Toby, waving Martin on, obviously anxious to get back to the prone men and the trussed-up guard.
"Right ... yes," said Martin and, with a sudden aliveness, he went through the door into the tiny, dirty passage, now lighter for the other door being open a little. "Ugh, oh hell, it's dirty ..."
"Shut up Martin!" whispered Toby urgently. "We don't know who else is here."
"Oh, yes," said Martin as he eased himself along the narrow passage, trying not to get dirt on his business suit.
"Bloody pansy," muttered Toby as he shook his head, adjusted his painful arm and quickly returned to help Amanda.
"I'll just get something to clean these guys up," said Amanda. "Can you just keep an eye on them ... stop them doing gymnastics and stuff!" She dashed into the kitchen, filled a large bowl with warm water, grabbed a tea towel and two towels and returned to gently wash Arthur's bloody head. He showed no signs of waking but his pulse and breathing were steady, though weak. She then covered him with the two towels to help keep his body warmth up.
"You're a nurse and a cop!" said Toby with obvious admiration. "Anything I can do to help?"
"You could do the same with this other bloke here, if you like," said Amanda, pleased she had willing help. "Then I'll wash this stuff up when you get back. Best to have someone here all the time - you never know what's going to happen next!"
"Always one step ahead, aren't you," said Toby as he sauntered off to the kitchen. Amanda imagined that was a compliment and smiled for the first time that day. When Toby returned with a bowl of water and a rag, she took the bloody tea towel and water into the kitchen to clean up. As she returned, Toby was kneeling behind the solid hunk of a man, gingerly dabbing at the blood on his head and hand. She squatted in front of the man and discovered that his eyes were quivering and his body was twitching a little.
"This guy might be waking up," said Amanda, as the man groaned and moved his hand a little as Toby put it back down.
"Oh God!" she said, sitting back on her haunches. She looked at him closer and shook her head, disbelieving. She put her hand under his chin and gently lifted it a little, perhaps hoping the face would transform itself into one she hadn't seen before. It didn't. She lowered his chin slowly and squatted there on her haunches, indecisively. She looked across at Arthur, hoping there was something she could do for him ... hoping to delay her decision. There was nothing she could do for Arthur, unfortunately. Yes, she'd have to do something with this solid, grizzled hunk of a man she knew - the Assistant Commissioner, Special Operations, of the London Metropolitan Police, George Sanderson. How could she arrest and detain someone many levels her senior? There was no question he had attacked Arthur, who had defended himself and been knocked unconscious ... or had he? She hadn't witnessed anything and so her current story was nothing but assumption. Besides, she wasn't in uniform and couldn't arrest him, except under a citizen's arrest. Also, she was carrying a police gun and handcuffs, out of uniform, and she wasn't sure of the consequences of that.
"So, why are you here?" she demanded of the portly guard with his hands still hooked over the door handle. "Did this man get you to do this?"
"Uh, yeah," said the guard groggily and Amanda realised that, with his overweightness and the awkward position he was in, he might not be faring too well.
"Yeah what?" demanded Amanda, needing answers quickly. "Who is he to you?"
"He's the guv'nor, Ma'am," said the guard. "He paid us, like, to look after him, to look after this place while he got a few things."
"What things?"
"Dunno. Papers and stuff that this Lord fella' stole off 'a him," said the guard, squirming to make himself more comfortable, without success.
"And who knocked out that man? You?" asked Amanda, pointing to Arthur.
"Well, yeah, he attacked the guv'nor and I hear a crash an' I come in an' I thought the guv'nor was dead," said the guard candidly, perhaps eager to get it off his chest. "He's just knocked out ... you know, alive, isn't he?"
"So you knocked him out?" asked Amanda, ignoring his question.
"Yeah, well, I panicked, like, coz I saw the guv'nor dead an' I thought this one here, he be brutal, like," said the guard, breathing heavily with sweat breaking out on his forehead.
"So you did him good, like, as you would say," said Amanda, finishing his sentence.
"Yeah, guess so. I jus' panicked and we knew we's in trouble coz we let those others get in. I knew we's in trouble already ..." said the guard.
"We? You mean there's others here, working for this guv'nor?" asked Amanda, pointing at the prone, twitching body of the Assistant Commissioner.
"Yeah, jus' the two of us," said the guard. "The guv'nor said it'd be a quick an' easy job."
"Where's the other guard?" asked Amanda, looking around warily.
"Dunno. He stayed outside, I suppose," said the guard, wriggling and trying to adjust his arms.
"So this man pays you to protect him, does he?" asked Amanda.
"Ah, yeah, he said he needs extra help an' so he hires people for short-term jobs," said the guard. "Cash only. We do building security at nights so we got the uniform and he thinks that scares people ... oh, hell, you won't tell my company will ya? We not allowed to do moonlighting." His pained face took on an alarmed look.
"I can't promise anything, fella'," said Amanda, knowing she'd have to immobilise the other guard before the area was safe. "Maybe I keep quiet about your moonlighting if you do what I say. Okay?"
"Yes ma'am," said the guard, his face lightening up a little.
"So, all you have to do is call out to your friend outside. You'll have to yell," said Amanda, standing up. "Get him in here to help us all out and I'll go get the others. Start yelling!"
The guard started yelling, "Rocky, Rocky, get in here! I need your help! Hurry up Rocky!"
Amanda touched Toby on the shoulder and nodded towards the kitchen, to which she ran. Toby followed.
"Find something to tie the next guy up with, will ya," said Amanda, rummaging through drawers and cupboards, not quite knowing what might work. She soon found muslin bags, usually used for keeping meat in. "These will do," said Amanda as an idea started to form in her mind. "Why don't you go and kneel over that guy ... not Arthur,
the other one and make sure he doesn't get away. I'll nab the other guard when he comes for you."
"So I'm the decoy?" asked Toby, smiling grimly as he ran his hand through his blonde hair. "You better not miss, young lady, or I'll have to beat you with whatever limbs I still have working!"
"It's a deal - I beat him or you beat me!" said Amanda, smiling and slapping Toby's good shoulder.
"Oh, careful, that jars, you bully," said Toby, striding out, holding his sore arm gingerly. Amanda sneaked up to the corner of the corridor and waited. She heard a distant door open and shut and, soon after, someone was asking, "Where are you, mate?"
"Out in the passage," yelled the guard back.
Amanda could hear no footsteps on the thick carpet and made her move, based on gut feeling and guesswork, as to when the man would be over Toby. She reached the second guard just as he was about to kick an apparently oblivious Toby, kneeling beside the prone man. Amanda slipped one bag over the man's head and, as he faltered, struggling with an unexpected impediment, she grabbed his ankles and pulled them together, as good as any All Black tackler. He toppled and fell forward just as Toby rolled away and jumped up to plant his foot heavily between the man's shoulders, like a triumphant boxer. Amanda quickly tied his ankles together with a muslin bag and leapt upon his backside to claim his now-pinioned arms. Between them they managed to get his arms behind his back and tied up with another muslin bag.
It all happened so quickly there was hardly time for a sound, save the odd oomph and argh and the carpet and solid walls absorbed most of the sounds. They rolled the second, trussed-up guard off his guv'nor and let him lie there, panting surprised and embarrassed.
The man at the bottom of the little pile was stirred to life and started groaning. His hand went to his head, perhaps to feel for cuts, and Amanda knew she had to act.
"Quick, stop him moving!" commanded Amanda as she grabbed another muslin bag and trussed his wrists together behind his back, with a little help from Toby. She then did the same with his feet. "Right, we've got three we don't want moving and they can, while we've got one we want to move and he can't."
The Last Stand Down Page 25
