Sweat broke out on his brow, and his heart flipped when the nearside back wheel started to spin in mid air. He felt the car start to topple, then in a moment both front wheels were over the edge. Before he even had time to draw another breath, the whole car lifted and went over the cliff. He was airborne.
Mike clung on to the wheel as hard as he could, expecting at any moment to start spinning in the air. The miracle he’d asked for happened when the car did not turn over. All four wheels hit the ground, but the car started to waltz like some drunken learner at his first dance class. It lurched from side to side, until at last it righted itself. Mike took a deep breath, wondering if he dared hope...
It could straighten out.
Miracles do happen.
But a moment later, carried by momentum, the car started to slide. Slowly at first, then gathering speed. He could see the sea below him. The beautiful calmness he’d delighted in only minutes ago had turned into a monster ready to devour him.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he yelled. He was helpless, and guessed this was it. The end of the road for Mike Yorke.
Too soon.
Way too soon.
He had things to do, those murdering bastards deserved to die long before he did. And now they would get away with it.
Nothing would change, the world and everyone in it would go on getting screwed as it always had done.
Nothing I can do.
This is it!
Sharp, cold fear wrapped around his heart. A moment later, he bit into his tongue as what felt like a giant hand took hold of his head and slammed it into the side of the car. He was spinning now, spinning deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Detective Kristina Clancy was in the first car out of Berwick. She chewed on her lip as she and a young blonde woman police driver sped up the road.
Irritated, Kristina pulled at the lapel of her navy blue suit. As usual, she was impeccably dressed, matching her suit with a crisp white blouse. She could never get the right hand lapel of this suit to lie properly. It really annoyed the hell out of her. Then she fussed with her brown hair. Finally she gave up, tapping her long red fingernails on her knee, and admitted to herself the real reason she was so stressed out was Mike Yorke. She would love a cigarette, but she knew this driver would probably have a heart attack if she even hinted at it.
She and Mike went back a long way - once, when life was less complicated, they'd been an item. Working with him these last few weeks had brought it all back. She was starting to realise she was perhaps still in love with him, probably always had been, even through the short time of her marriage. Her husband, a good man, had died over a year ago. She’d asked for a transfer back to the north east to get away from his overbearing family who, though very kind and decent folk, thought she had to mourn forever. The problem was, she’d known within a week of being married that she didn’t love him, that she’d probably married him on the rebound from Mike - although that hadn’t stopped her from being absolutely gutted when he died.
The very last person she’d expected to be working with, when her transfer had finally come through, had been Mike, who usually worked out of Newcastle. She’d been quite shocked when she had seen his name on the rota on her first day.
Now, as her heart beat ever faster, she realised that yes, she did still love him, and this was probably the main reason why her marriage had failed.
What to do about it, though?
Or rather, what the hell can I do? As far as Mike’s concerned, it was all over more than two years ago.
Sighing, she watched the green hills flashing by. Could there be another chance-or was she just chasing a dream?
‘Where the hell can he be?’ she muttered. Turning to the driver, she said, ‘Slow down, we might be missing something. When we get to the top of this hill, stop, and we’ll have a look around. He’s got to be on this stretch of road.’
The driver nodded as she slowed the car down. ‘So how do we know he’s actually gone over? Surely if someone reported it, they would have stayed at the scene. I mean, come on, it’s common sense, isn’t it?’
Kristina sighed. ‘Shame not everyone possesses it.’
‘It’s still a strange call, though, don’t you think?’
‘Yep, strange it is, and I’m beginning to suspect where it came from. Cox didn’t give the whole story, just yelled over the phones that Mike Yorke was involved in an accident, and where he suspected that accident was.’
The driver frowned in puzzlement. She was about to ask more when Kristina hit the dashboard and yelled, ‘Stop!’
‘What?’ She brought the car to a halt, noticing the mud on the road. There were tyre tracks in the mud at an impossible angle which led towards the edge of the road.
‘That’s gotta be him,’ Kristina gasped.
“I sincerely hope not,’ the driver said, opening her car door.
Oh God, Kristina thought as she jumped out of the car, please, please let him be all right.
Followed by the driver, she ran to the edge, every second fearing what she might find - if it was indeed even Mike.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sergeant Angela Rafferty scowled as she started the car. ‘What on earth are you thinking of, taking us on a wild goose chase because that little toe rag insists he’s a psychic? You’ll be asking him for the lottery numbers next.’
‘He is with us, you know.’
Rafferty looked in the rear view mirror at Smiler. ’You sure about that?’
Cox turned in his seat. Smiler was sitting perfectly still with his eyes closed. Turning back, Cox said, ‘Just get a move on.’
‘What the----?’ she demanded a moment later. She kept throwing quick looks in the rear view mirror and frowning even more at Smiler, who now looked like every muscle in his body was dancing.
Glancing at her and seeing where her attention was, Cox spun round, looked at Smiler, and shook his head. Turning back, he went on, ‘When you’ve been in this game as long as I have, you’ll learn not to judge until you have all the facts. Brother David was right to quote Martin Luther King.’
‘Whatever.’
Again, Cox wondered why she had such an attitude, and how she’d even managed to make it to detective. She’s only been with us a couple of weeks, and already she struts around behaving as if she despises everyone she comes into contact with, as well as owning the flaming place. He had actually tried to check her out on the internet, but, strangely, he’d thought at the time, he could find no trace at all of her having been in any other police force.
Hearing Smiler start muttering, he looked round at him. ‘Smiler…Smiler, you all right, son?' His voice rose as Smiler started to thrash around.
‘For God's sake, what’s wrong with him?’ Rafferty asked.
‘How the hell should I know?' Cox snapped.
They came over the hill, and fifty yards down Rafferty saw a police car pulled over on the opposite side of the road. ‘Looks like they’ve found something.’ She flicked her siren on. As she did so, a woman’s head popped over the edge.
‘It's Kristina,’ Cox said. ‘Looks like she’s standing on a ledge or something.’
‘He’s gonna fall,’ Smiler said, in a matter of fact voice. 'He is…He’s gonna fall right into the sea.’ He started nodding his head, then counting on his fingers.
Another glance over his shoulder, and Cox could see that Smiler was staring out of the window. Apart from the constant muttering and quick-time counting on his fingers, he seemed calmer than a few minutes ago.
Cox had acted on a hunch, having truly seen some things that had no explanation at all in his time in the police force. He had only hoped that his hunch to trust Smiler would prove correct - and it certainly looked like it had.
Cox opened the car door as they came to a halt, practically bumper to bumper with the other police car.
‘Jason,’ Kristina yelled, as Cox came into view around the car. ’He’s here.’
S
miler quickly got out of the car, tripped a few times in his hurry, but reached the edge at the same time as Cox.
‘Hi, Smiler. I’m guessing from what I’ve been told that you’re responsible for getting us here.’
Smiler nodded. ‘Is he…is he all right?’
Kristina sighed, and shook her head. ‘It’s impossible to tell. Take a look. No one can get down there without the proper equipment. I’ve phoned for fire engines and an ambulance, they should be here any minute.’
Heart pounding, Smiler looked over the edge, dreading what he would find. Kristina and the blonde policewoman were standing on a wide ledge about five feet down. From there, it was a steep slope for about forty feet - although quite dangerous for anyone, it was certainly passable for people trained for this kind of rescue. Then it was a sheer drop to the beach. Halfway down the slope, Mike’s car was wedged between two young trees that were swaying and bending dangerously.
‘You have to get him out of there, he’s not dead, you have to get him out!’ Smiler’s voice rose with each word until he was shouting. ‘He’s hurt, but he’s alive, I, I can feel him.’ He started laughing hysterically. ‘I can feel him!’
‘It’s OK, lad,’ Cox said soothingly, but he was thinking, no way could anyone live through that. The car was squashed on both sides and the roof rose up and down like waves on a high sea.
Kristina held up her hand, interrupting Cox. ‘Here’s the fire engines, thank God.’
Then they all heard them. She’s got damn good ears, Cox was thinking, as two fire engines appeared over the brow of the hill.
CHAPTER NINE
Brother David rested his forehead on the side of the bed beside Aunt May’s arm. Opening one eye, he watched the life-giving liquid drip into her veins. He was all out of prayers. He didn’t know what hurt the most, his heart or his soul. Within twenty-four hours, the three people he loved had all been placed in deadly danger. He didn’t know what game Tony was playing, but in his heart he knew he couldn’t be a part of what was going on. He knew him too well. And he guessed Mike didn’t really believe it either, no matter what the evidence.
He stood up, stretching his neck and shoulders to ease the stiffness as he slowly walked to the window. A noise behind him caused him to spin round. ‘Oh, my dear God… She’s woken up! Thank you. Thank you.’
His heart, which had soared, plummeted once more into the depths. It was just a nurse, one he’d never seen before. She said, ‘Why don’t you go and get something to eat?’
Brother David shook his head. ‘No thank you. I really don’t want to leave her alone.’
‘I promise I’ll stay till you get back. You must be starving. She’ll need you to keep your strength up.’
Brother David sighed. He could go without food, but he needed to drink. He’d seen first-hand the effects of dehydration.
‘OK. I’ll have something quick. Promise you won't leave her? I don’t want her to wake up and think she’s all alone.’
‘Honestly, there’s no hurry.’ She smiled at him. ‘The café is on the bottom floor, near the entrance. Just take the lift and turn right, you can’t miss it.’
‘Thank you.’ Brother David nodded.
He was just about to go through the door when the doctor came in. Seeing Brother David’s eyes light up, he said, ‘Sorry, it’s just a routine check.’
‘OK, Doctor. Just going for a cuppa, then.’ He hurried out, planning to be back in less than ten minutes, just enough time to grab a drink and a sandwich or two, and bring them back up to the room with him.
The doctor entered the room, nodding at the nurse, wondering who this one was. He’d certainly never seen her before. Quite a looker, he thought, smiling at her as he reached the bed.
CHAPTER TEN
The fire chief carefully tied the rope around the officer’s waist, and gave it one more hefty tug before slapping him on the back and saying, ‘Go get him, Jack.’
Jack nodded with a smile and, watched anxiously by the chief and everyone there, he was slowly, step by tortured step, lowered down the muddy bank.
Kristina dug her nails into the palms of her hands, then pushed her knuckles into her mouth as Jack finally, after what seemed a very long time, reached the car. Easing round crabwise, he went to the front of the car first.
It was obvious to those watching that he could see nothing inside. Most of the bonnet had replaced the windshield. Being careful not to touch anything - any sudden movement could send the car and Mike down to the beach below, and probably him with it - Jack moved slowly round to the driver's side, where he disappeared for what seemed forever. Kristina’s heart nearly froze as she silently begged him to hurry up. Then just as she was about to lose all hope Jack’s head popped up.
‘Yes!’ she yelled, punching the sky as he gave a thumbs-up sign. It was smiles all round as everyone started to clap. The fireman was winched back up to them, where he was given a final pull over the edge by Cox on one hand, and the fire chief on the other.
Smiler swallowed hard as he stared down at the car. Hang on Mike, hang on, he was thinking, as hard as he could, trying in his own way to reach him and let him know that they were there. But he could sense nothing. Where Mike usually rested in his head, there was nothing but an empty space.
‘OK, Jack, you’ve assessed the damage - any ideas on how we can fix it?’ the fire chief asked.
‘Well.’ Jack looked from his chief to Kristina, who noticed a slight tic at the side of his mouth. Then he went on. ‘I really can't tell a hundred percent if he’s dead or unconscious. There’s blood, but I can't see where it's coming from, or if it’s a serious wound or not. It's still trickling out from somewhere, though, which I think is a good sign. I honestly think the only way we can get him to safety, is by winching the car up using both fire engines. And it’ll be tricky, ‘cause the soil is unstable. Any harsh movement could easily set off a landslide. But it would be practically impossible to get in and get him out, where he is now. It's just not safe, we have to get him up here inside the car.’
Kristina, watched intently by Smiler, clutched at the fire chief's jacket. ‘Is…will he be all right?’
Waiting for his reply, Kristina chewed on her thumbnail. Before she could say anything else, the fire chief patted her back. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get him up. Trust me - we’ve done trickier jobs than this.’
She nodded, as she thought, Yes, but will he be alive?
Is he dying this minute?
Smiler looked from the fire chief, to Kristina, then down at the car. He was thinking exactly the same thing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Prince Carl, tall, slim, and with a fine shock of dark hair was, although reasonably good looking, not quite as handsome as he liked to believe. His very large nose made sure of that. He was descended not from the Russian Romanov royal family, but from the 12th century Golitsyn royal house, on his mother’s side.
On his way to meet Count Rene Farqahar, he paused for a moment and stared up at Chartres Cathedral. Count Rene had a house in town, and was practically the only member of the Families that he called friend, although he was on speaking terms with most of them. They gossiped frequently about the others, even though it was not supposed to be allowed. They both guessed, rightly, that they were not, nor ever had been, the only ones to do so.
He loved Chartres, especially the cathedral, and never missed a chance to stare at the famous blue stained glass windows. His castle was five miles away, hidden from view by the countless trees that surrounded it. He shared his time between France and the homeland he shared with Kirill Tarasov, Russia.
It was such a lovely day that Prince Carl decided not to take another taxi, but to walk the mile or so to Count Rene’s house. He gloried in nodding at people he knew, amused that they did not have a clue as to what the world was really about, and the fact that he was one of their masters. When on walkabout he loved to dress casually in jeans and open neck shirts, mostly white. It increased his feeling of power. This wa
s one of the reasons he liked to leave the car at home and take a taxi into town, so he could indulge.
Twenty minutes later, he rang the bell on the door of Count Rene’s town house. In a matter of moments, the door was opened by Count Rene himself.
Prince Carl frowned in surprise. This was very unusual. Rene did nothing at all for himself, he had a servant for everything. Prince Carl had once, as they were sharing a few drinks together, accused him of even having a servant to wipe his arse. Rene had merely laughed, and hadn’t denied it.
‘Come in, come in,’ Count Rene said, stepping back and ushering Prince Carl into the splendid hallway.
A manservant came from the far end, obviously to open the door, and was as surprised as Prince Carl had been. When Count Rene snarled at him, he swiftly turned and disappeared back through a door at the far end of the hallway,
Prince Carl followed him into the large, lavishly furnished drawing room. Count Rene pointed to a seat, by the fireplace, which was still heaped with logs though, in this heat, unlit. A huge mirror dominated the chimneybreast, and dotted around the room were life-sized white marble statues of angels, some with their wings spread as if ready to take flight, and others with their wings closed and their heads bowed in a praying posture. Prince Carl looked at the room through the mirror. He smiled at the ceiling rose, solid gold back-to-back unicorns. It was the trademark of the Families.
‘The usual, Carl?’ Count Rene asked, from the well stocked bar that ran the length of the west wall.
Holy Island Trilogy 02 - Nowhere Man Page 4
