Living Dangerously

by Dan Latus

  ‘Maybe they plan to use him as a hostage. I don’t know. Is there anything else Logan wants from you? I understand you’ve had some dealings with him?’

  Josh didn’t answer that. Instead, he said, ‘So where have they taken him?’

  ‘Who knows? We’re snowed in here and the police say they won’t be able to reach us until the snow ploughs break through, which I would guess will be sometime tomorrow. If Logan’s people got out before the road was closed, the police have a licence plate to watch for. That’s as much as I know.’

  ‘What if they didn’t get out before the road was shut?’

  ‘In that case,’ I said, ‘they’re stuck in a snowdrift somewhere between here and Alnwick.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Although I’d kept calm talking to Josh, my insides were in turmoil. Tom was in big trouble. I could soothe his father all I liked, but that was the reality. There wasn’t much I could do to help him now either. The fact that Tom himself had engineered this situation didn’t make me feel any better about it.

  There was certainly nothing more I could do from the warmth and comfort of a modernized eighteenth-century coaching inn. So I put my coat back on and took the spare set of car keys out of my bag. Then I went to see if I could start the Volvo.

  It started fine. In a howling gale I dusted the snow off the windscreen and side windows, got in and turned the car round. By then, the windows were covered again. The snow was slanting down harder than ever, and the headlights scarcely penetrated the billowing sheets. Visibility was little more than non-existent. It was bitterly cold, as well.

  After a brief hesitation I set off in first gear, wondering how far I would get before the snow brought the car to a halt. Here, it was six or seven inches deep, which was just about negotiable, but I suspected it wouldn’t be long before I had to turn back. I just wanted to make sure Logan’s car wasn’t stuck somewhere close to the village.

  After a couple of hundred yards I rounded a bend and ran into a drift of snow that was nearly as high as the car itself. I stopped and peered ahead aghast. A ferocious wind was driving the snow like fast-flowing water down the lower slopes of the moor and over the road. The drift was wider than I could see, and I wasn’t even on the moor yet.

  There was nothing to be done. I reversed back the way I had come, while I still could. Where the road was sheltered by the first of the buildings in the village, I turned round and drove back a little way until I could park on some open ground just before I reached the pub.

  I collected one or two things from the car and made my way back to the pub, head down against the wind, trudging through snow that was over the tops of my boots now. It was going to be a difficult night for a lot of people, Tom amongst them – assuming he was still alive.

  The landlord was in his little office. He was talking to the barmaid, who was understandably anxious to close down and get away home for the night. I gathered she lived nearby in the village, which was just as well given the conditions.

  ‘Yes, off you go, Amy. There’s no point keeping you here any longer. It’s not as if we’re likely to get any more customers tonight.’

  Amy looked relieved. She thanked him, gave me a quick smile and went hunting for her coat.

  The landlord looked up at me and said with surprise, ‘Have you been out?’

  I nodded and dusted some of the fresh snow off my jacket. ‘I didn’t get far, though.’

  ‘What’s it like?’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe it.’

  ‘Oh, I would!’ he said, chuckling. ‘I’ve lived here all my life. A bit of snow’s not going to surprise me.’

  ‘That’s good to hear. But you might want to wait a while before closing up for the night.’

  He looked at me suspiciously.

  ‘We’ve got a problem,’ I said.

  ‘We have, have we?’

  ‘Two, actually,’ I said, nodding. ‘Think about it.’

  He realized I was serious. Sensible man, he just sat there, waiting for me to continue.

  ‘First, I’ve just driven up the road a couple of hundred yards. I got stopped by a drift that Hannibal and his elephants wouldn’t have got through, and I hadn’t even reached the moor. The gang that abducted Tom would have got a lot further than me because they set off earlier, but I doubt if they got all the way through. They’ll have been stopped somewhere higher up, probably.’

  ‘By Pit Cottage, I would think,’ the landlord said, thinking about it. ‘That’s the highest point on the moor.’

  I nodded, and wished I knew the local topography. That would have come in handy. I’d have to see if I could get hold of a map.

  ‘They’ll probably just sit there in the car for a while, waiting for the snow to stop, but it’ll soon get too cold for that. Eventually, they’ll set off to walk back here, because it’s the only place they know about.

  ‘When they get here, my guess is they’ll make for the pub. If you’ve put out the lights and locked the door, they’ll just force their way in and help themselves. Anyone wanting to survive on a night like this would be entitled to do the same.’

  He grimaced and said, ‘So what do you suggest I do? Stay open and offer them hospitality? Pretend nothing has happened?’

  ‘It might be your best plan. There’s no police presence here, is there?’

  He shook his head and said, ‘To hell with that! I’ll get some of the local lads. We’ll soon see these buggers off.’

  ‘They’re tough people.’

  ‘Not like the folk around here, you mean? You haven’t seen my neighbours!’

  ‘This lot will almost certainly be armed.’

  ‘So what? A lot of us have shotguns.’

  Shotguns? I shook my head and pulled a face.

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Shotguns wouldn’t do it,’ I told him. ‘If you take them on, you’ll end up with some orphans and widows in the village, as well as having your pub smashed up. These are serious criminals. Big time. They’ll be armed with weapons a lot more potent than shotguns, and they’re used to shooting people with them.’

  I paused to let that sink in and then added, ‘It would be better to offer them hospitality, and wait for the police to arrive.’

  He was thinking about it now, weighing up what I’d said.

  ‘You said there were two problems,’ he queried. ‘What’s the other one?’

  ‘The women staying here. If and when the gang come back, they’ll look for those women. They know they’re associated with Tom Steele. They probably know who they are. So they’re vulnerable. Potential hostages, if nothing else. We need to move them.’

  ‘We need to move them?’ he repeated slowly. He looked at me for a moment and shook his head. ‘Since when did I become responsible for them?’

  ‘Since you gave them rooms in your hotel. At least since then.’

  He sighed. ‘Aye, you’re right,’ he admitted. ‘This is turning out to be quite a night, isn’t it? Who did you say you were, by the way?’

  ‘Frank Doy. I’m a security consultant and private investigator, retained by his family to protect Tom Steele.’

  ‘James Cummings, landlord.’

  Belatedly, perhaps, we shook hands. He seemed to have accepted at last that we were on the same side. Thankfully, he didn’t offer a snide comment on how well I seemed to have done so far in looking after Tom.

  ‘James, we need to get the ladies out of here. If the gang ask where they are, just say they left an hour or two ago. You have no idea where they were going. They never said.’

  ‘So we need to move them somewhere,’ he said briskly, straightening up in his chair.

  ‘Don’t ask me where,’ I told him. ‘I haven’t a clue.’

  ‘I can help there. We’ve got a little cottage, a holiday let, that’s empty at the moment.’

  ‘In the village?’

  He nodded.

  ‘That sounds ideal. I’ll go and get them.’

  ‘Roo
ms two and three!’

  Senga was in Julie’s room. She wasn’t pleased to see me.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘A word, if you don’t mind.’

  She stepped out into the corridor and gently closed the door behind her.

  ‘Is she asleep?’ I asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘We’re going to have to wake her up.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said with a scornful chuckle.

  So I explained the situation. After a moment’s thought, she seemed to accept it.

  ‘There’s just one problem,’ she said. ‘Julie won’t be able to walk now. I gave her a sleeping pill, a strong one. So we might have to carry her.’

  ‘Let’s hope it’s not far, then,’ I said grimly. ‘I’ve had about enough for one night.’

  Chapter Twenty

  It wasn’t far to the cottage. Between us, we managed to get Julie there safely. James led the way and stayed to show us how things worked. Then he returned to the hotel, preparing himself for a stressful night. He had my sympathy.

  ‘If they do turn up,’ I told him, ‘just behave normally. They’re new guests who got caught by the snow. Don’t question or provoke them, and don’t let them know that you’re aware of what went on earlier.’

  ‘That’s not going to be easy.’

  ‘Do it, James! Just do it.’

  ‘What if it all goes pear-shaped?’

  ‘Walk away. Leave. Let them get on with it.’

  He didn’t think much of that advice, but what alternative would he have? I didn’t want him or any of his neighbours getting themselves badly beaten or killed, not even for Tom – especially for Tom!

  It was different for me. I had signed on to protect the lad, and I wasn’t going to renege on that commitment now. Professional pride, personal honour, me being stubborn? All of that, and more. He was a young kid who might be bolshy, and at times downright unpleasant with it, but he didn’t deserve what had happened to him.

  It was a two-bedroom cottage, with a big living room and a kitchen downstairs. I helped Senga get Julie onto one of the beds upstairs, and then left them to it. Julie hadn’t really woken up.

  ‘Those pills must be strong,’ I remarked before I left.

  Senga nodded.

  ‘Whose are they? Yours or hers?’

  ‘Mine.’

  So Julie wouldn’t be used to them. A minimum dose had probably been enough.

  ‘You should get some sleep, as well,’ I suggested. ‘Use the other bedroom. I won’t need it.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  I motioned towards the window in the living room, which gave a good view of the main street. ‘I’ll be in here. I want to know if and when they come back.’

  I sat in the near dark, with just a few pinpricks of light behind me from the television, the cooker and other electrical equipment on standby. I didn’t need more. Where I did need plenty of light was just outside the village pub. Fortunately, James had kept his illuminated sign and entrance lights ablaze. So I wouldn’t miss Logan’s men, if they did appear.

  It was cold in the cottage, but nothing like Pete’s holiday let up the valley had been. This house had central heating, which James had switched on before he left. Already the air felt different. I was quite comfortable stationed in front of the window overlooking the street. More importantly, as an observer I had a prime position.

  I watched the snow slanting down, sometimes in sheets, sometimes in energetic, swirling squalls as the wind lost track of what it was supposed to be doing and went haywire for minutes on end. Much of the time I had only a murky view through the snow to the pub’s entrance, but I kept my eyes fastened on it and I saw no one go in or out.

  All the time, the snow in the street was piling up. A foot now? Something like that. Deeper in places, where the howling wind had driven it up against the walls of a house or an obstruction like the public phone box. The way things were going, it might be next spring, not tomorrow, before the snow ploughs made their breakthrough.

  It was noisy outside but the cottage was noisy, too, surprisingly so. The heating system was going full blast to drive the chill out of the building. The boiler was giving off a purposeful roar and the pipes carrying heated water groaned and rattled as it surged its way around the circuit. Walls creaked and floorboards gave out alarming cracks as the warmth started to get to them. A tap ran in the bathroom. A toilet flushed. A bedroom door snapped shut. Senga, presumably. Keeping vigil, or getting ready for bed.

  I did wonder about her. Julie was a straightforward case of a distraught young girl loyally trying to keep up with her boyfriend, determined enough but simply unable to cope with a situation she couldn’t really comprehend. Senga was different. Senga was … what?

  Well, she was Anne’s sister, apparently. I didn’t remember her from earlier times, and couldn’t recall ever even hearing of her, but I was prepared to accept that that was what she was. Probably two or three years younger than Anne, which would explain why she wasn’t in my memory bank. Other people’s younger sisters and brothers don’t usually figure in your thoughts very much when you’re eighteen or nineteen.

  Initially hostile to me, she seemed to have mellowed and calmed down a bit. Perhaps reality had set in, and she had realized I was the only person around here capable of helping the Steele family.

  Then there was her support for Tom. It wasn’t the lad’s mother that had followed him here; it was his aunt. Admittedly, she had come in tandem with his girlfriend, but it still spoke of a high level of commitment. She must be very fond of him, or very right-minded. Either way, it was unusual.

  She seemed to be tough, as well, and I was glad of that. Over the next few hours she might well be called on to prove it.

  Otherwise, I knew nothing about her. She was a complete stranger, and a mystery. But I knew someone who might know more than me, and I had time to fill while I waited for something to happen.

  ‘Hi, Jac! It’s Frank here. How are you?’

  ‘Well, hello, Frank! What a surprise. I’m just fine, thank you. How about yourself?’

  Jac Picknett, who at one time had looked like being the love of my life, but who hadn’t fancied how I lived. Still good friends, though.

  ‘I’m good, Jac. Snowed in at the moment, but nothing is spoiling.’

  ‘Snowed in? Risky Point is so like that, isn’t it?’ she said with an audible shiver and the little laugh I remembered so well. ‘Just a teeny little bit remote and exposed to the elements.’

  Ha, ha! I decided not to disclose my current whereabouts. That wasn’t why I’d called her.

  ‘Jac, I owe you a thank-you, and a bunch of flowers, for putting some business my way.’

  ‘You do?’ she said suspiciously. ‘How did that come about?’

  ‘Anne Fenwick. Remember her? Now Anne Steele, of course, as she has been for many years.’

  ‘Oh, yes! Dear Anne. So she did contact you, did she? I remember once mentioning you to her.’

  ‘Not recently, then?’

  ‘No, no. Some time ago.’

  ‘Well, she and her husband Josh have discovered a need for my services. Them and Anne’s sister. Remember her? I never knew Anne had a sister.’

  ‘Oh, Senga! Of course I remember her. She and I were contemporaries at college. A wild child. No doubt she is still.’

  ‘Wild?’

  ‘I’m being unfair. We all lived in a bit of a frenzy while we were at college, even those who, like Senga, had a baby to take care of. I was thinking more of her artwork.’

  ‘Not serene and tranquil, I take it?’

  Jac laughed. ‘Far from it! Some of her paintings … Dreadful, terrifying stuff.’

  That was interesting. Senga, the one-time art student, one of the wild ones. I could imagine that somehow.

  ‘I saw Senga not long ago, actually,’ Jac added. ‘She had a handsome Frenchman in tow, a good bit older than her. So perhaps she has settled down now.’


  ‘No,’ I told her. ‘I don’t believe she has. She doesn’t strike me as the family sort.’

  Just as I was wondering where Senga and child lived, with or without said Frenchman, Jac added something else interesting.

  ‘She didn’t keep the child, of course.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Oh, no. How could she? That would have cramped her style too much, as we used to say. Besides, she was far too young to have a baby.’

  Senga in a nutshell, eh? Perhaps she was taking her role as an aunt more seriously than she had taken her role as a mother.

  But it didn’t sound as if she and Jac had ever been great pals.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I tired of watching the snow come down and phoned Bill Peart. Maybe he could help.

  ‘What are you up to?’ he demanded.

  ‘The same old thing. You?’

  ‘I’m off duty. So I’m sitting here watching the football on the telly.’

  ‘You haven’t taken the wife for a night out, then?’

  ‘She’s round at the church, doing something meaningless to me.’

  ‘Like helping someone, you mean?’

  ‘Oh, boy! That’s good, coming from you.’

  I flipped a mental switch. Otherwise we could have gone on all night like that.

  ‘I’m out in the wilds of Northumberland, Bill. And snowed in. We’ve got a blizzard here.’

  ‘Oh? Not again!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Middlesbrough. They just conceded another goal. Much more of this and I’m switching it off. My nerves are in tatters.’

  I shook my head and resumed the story.

  ‘I brought the Steeles’ lad here to get him away from trouble, and guess what?’

  ‘Go on. I’m listening.’

  ‘He pinched the car keys and took off, trying to get back to mainstream life. He contacted his girlfriend and told her where he was, despite everything I’d told him. And she came running, bringing his aunt with her – and Logan not far behind!’

  ‘Party time, eh?’

  ‘That’s about right. By the time I caught up with them, Logan’s gang had arrived on the scene and abducted the lad. They took off in a hurry but there’s a good chance they won’t have been able to get far through the snow. So I’m sitting here waiting to see if they come back.’