Nothing But Lies

by Lyndon Stacey

  Going round the back, he ran his hands thoughtfully over the spare wheel in its bracket on the rear door before moving on. Stopping by the offside back wheel, he took a quick look round and then crouched beside it, his fingers finding the tyre valve cap. When he straightened up after a moment or two, he found a man and a woman in shorts were observing him with justifiable suspicion. He put a finger to his lips, winked and smiled brightly as he walked away, leaving behind the gentle hiss of escaping air.

  In the far corner of the car park there were three motorcycles parked in their own dedicated bay, and it was to these that he went next. Two were sports bikes and of no interest, the third was a BMW, designed for on and off road use. A fairly big machine for a woman to handle off-road, but then Chris Haynes was no shrinking violet. He thought back to the day he’d seen her at Stella King’s in Bath and was almost certain this was the bike he’d seen then, but there was one way to be sure. Coming to a decision, Daniel walked briskly back to his own parked car, ignoring the couple who were still watching him. He hoped they wouldn’t call the police.

  From the back seat he took Taz’s harness and a dual-purpose lead. Observing these preparations, Taz, who was already whining in anticipation of finally getting out of the car, started to bark in excitement and Daniel had to have words with him. The last thing he wanted was to draw any further attention. On his own, with care, he might avoid being noticed by Cal McAllum and the two Traverses, but with Taz beside him the chances of that dropped to negligible. However, at the moment, he had a job for the dog to do.

  As soon as they approached the motorcycle parking bay, he could see by the German shepherd’s reaction that the BMW was indeed Chris’ bike. Taz began to snuff the air and his tail waved gently with pleasure as he recognised a friend who he had walked with. Fitting the dog’s harness, Daniel thought what a different world it would be if humans had the same powerful scenting ability that dogs had. Once he had clipped the lead to the harness, Taz needed no further command. He loved to track, and tracking a friend was especially pleasurable.

  The trail led first to a small corner shop, still open despite the lateness of the hour. The front page of a local paper was displayed on a board outside, its headline catching Daniel’s eye. ‘Missing Birdwatcher Found Dead on Beach. Andrew Delacourt, the London solicitor reported missing three weeks ago has been found dead …’ He sighed inwardly. Another tragedy. Another family’s life shattered. Taz leaned into his harness and he moved on.

  From the corner shop, the dog took him to a cut-through between two buildings that overlooked a fish and chip shop, which was presumably from where Chris had phoned him earlier. He was pulling to carry on down the hill, but Daniel made him wait. From the corner of his eye, he had seen a familiar figure emerging from a side street and heading across the road.

  Harrison Allen. Daniel had only just left the car park in time, then. Hopefully the flat tyre would keep him busy for a bit.

  Giving the dog his head once more, they continued downhill at a brisk pace, following a street whose landmarks Daniel recognised from Chris’ description. Worried that Taz would lead him right to the place where the men had been, he started to shorten the dog’s lead, but suddenly Taz checked and veered off to the left as he came across the fresher track she had left when she retraced her steps. On the pavement Taz came face to face with a group of young holidaymakers carrying cans of drink but totally ignored them, head down, intent on his work.

  Ahead, there was a pub sign, swinging in the breeze, and Daniel wasn’t surprised when the dog led him to the door but here again he checked and turned left, going up a narrow side alley, barely wide enough for a small car.

  The alley was poorly lit but looking ahead to where it sloped up to a more populated street, Daniel could see a figure standing in the entrance. Taz was pulling into his harness like a draught horse and when they were twenty or thirty feet away, the person turned and saw them.

  ‘Hey, Daniel!’ Chris called, low voiced. ‘My God! Am I pleased to see you!’

  ‘Likewise,’ he said. ‘You had me worried when your phone cut out like that.’

  ‘Bloody reception’s useless round here,’ she said disgustedly. ‘I’ve spent the last half hour in the pub down there, sat in the corner waiting to see if Harrison appeared. He did come in but it was absolutely heaving in there and I don’t think he saw me. Gave me a fright, though, I can tell you. I’m really sorry. I hope I haven’t ruined everything. I was so bloody keen to see what they had in that garage, it never occurred to me that one of them might turn round and come back.’

  ‘And what was in the garage?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t get much of a look but I think it was a load of surfing and canoeing stuff. Boards, oars, wetsuits, that kind of thing.’

  ‘You said Harrison was a keen surfer,’ Daniel said. ‘Maybe he stores his gear here. Nice area with loads of good beaches within easy driving distance. Makes sense. And it would explain why they decided on this spot to make landfall when they arrived the other week. If they already had storage here, what could be better?’

  ‘I wonder if they’re still there,’ Chris said. ‘I’ve only just come out of the pub and I didn’t like to go back down there, just in case they were watching for me. Was Taz tracking me? Did he take you down there?’

  ‘No, we didn’t get that far because he picked up your scent coming back this way. The Land Rover was still in the car park as of ten minutes ago but I did see Harrison heading that way. Let’s go and see if it’s still there now.’

  ‘He was probably going to collect it, then, don’t you think? And maybe go and pick up the others and any gear they’re taking.’

  ‘Well, hopefully I’ve slowed him up a bit. I wedged a bit of grit into the tyre valve cap. I reckon in a couple of minutes it should have been flat as a pancake.’

  ‘They have a spare on the back,’ Chris reminded him. ‘Should have done two.’

  ‘I only just got away with one! I had a couple of holidaymakers giving me the evil eye as it was, and besides, I only wanted to slow them down. If I’d wanted to keep them here, I’d have done something a lot more permanent.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t look like it slowed him a lot,’ Chris observed. They had reached the car park and the Land Rover was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘OK,’ Daniel said. ‘Either a super-fast wheel change or he’s got a compressor on board.’

  ‘If there’s an inflatable boat in that lock-up, he probably has got a compressor,’ Chris said, looking depressed. ‘Standard kit. So what now? We don’t know where they’re going, except to the coast.’

  ‘No, we don’t,’ Daniel agreed, ‘but we soon will. I stuck a tracker on the Land Rover and I have the receiver in my car.’

  ‘Aha! Not just a pretty face, are you?’

  ‘I do my best,’ Daniel said modestly. ‘However, we’d best get after them, if we’re going to try and stop ’em, ’cos there’s no sign of the cavalry, yet.’

  ‘OK. I’ll follow you, then,’ Chris said. ‘The bike might come in handy if they go off-road.’

  The Land Rover was pretty easy to pick up, the GPS device showing it travelling back along the A39, the way Daniel had come just a short time before. To start with, it held a steady pace and with a little judicious overtaking he managed to get a distant sight of it, but soon after that the Land Rover sped up considerably and then turned off the main road into the myriad of tiny, steep banked lanes that lay between that and the coast.

  ‘So you’ve clocked us, have you?’ Daniel murmured, turning into the same lane shortly after. Behind him, Chris turned, too.

  In the following ten or fifteen minutes, Daniel was heartily glad he’d deployed the tracking device, as the roads were incredibly narrow, winding and, from time to time, very steep. In many places, grass grew along the middle, and passing places were few and far between, a fact that was brought home to him as he rounded a bend and came radiator to radiator with the towering yellow and green bulk of a John Deere
tractor. Thankful that the roads were dry, Daniel applied his brakes in something of a hurry and came to a halt only a couple of feet away from its two blazing headlights. The look on the farm worker’s face told him there was no earthly hope of him backing up, so Daniel put the Merc in reverse and, looking over his shoulder to make sure Chris had tucked her bike out of the way, started back the way he’d come.

  Chris had found a shallow gateway to pull into, and as he backed past her, she made a movement with her gloved hand, indicating that she would carry on.

  Daniel was forced to keep backing, the high banks offering no way of getting off the road, and the occasional gateway being too frustratingly shallow, and after what must have been a quarter of a mile or more, he finally came to an isolated farm cottage, with a driveway just big enough to take the car.

  As he pulled in, the tractor driver accelerated past him without so much as a wave of his hand.

  ‘Cheers mate! My pleasure,’ Daniel muttered. He put the car into gear and resumed his pursuit once more, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t meet any more traffic.

  Driving far faster than was sensible, Daniel sped back along the lane, past the place where Chris had pulled in and onward. He assumed that if she hadn’t got a sight of the Land Rover before she reached a place where there was a choice of routes, she would wait for him.

  The lane he was following was so deeply sunk between its banks, and the hedges so high, it almost felt as if he were driving along an endless tunnel, or within a maze. He imagined from above he would look like one of those unhappy lab rats trying to find its way through a labyrinth.

  The light was fading into dusk anyway, but down in the lanes, it already felt like night, and when Daniel rounded a sharp bend and his headlights picked out the motorbike lying against the grassy bank, it was all he could do to avoid hitting it.

  ‘Shit!’

  The Mercedes’ two nearside wheels mounted the opposite bank and tipped the car at a crazy angle, before he steered back onto the road again, the suspension clonking unhealthily as he did so. As the shock passed, he saw with relief, the leather-clad person of Chris Haynes, sitting on the bank a sensible fifty feet or so further up the road.

  He drove until he was level with her, stopped and got out.

  ‘Are you OK. I nearly had a heart attack when I came round the corner!’ he told her.

  ‘You did? What about me? When I came round the corner they were backing towards me. They must have caught sight of me following. I thought I was a goner. There was nothing I could do except steer up the bank and bail.’

  ‘So are you OK?’ She had taken her helmet off and under the spikiness of her short blonde hair, her face looked a little pale and drawn in the indirect glow of the car’s headlamps.

  ‘Yeah. I’ll live. I was lucky, really. Got thrown clear. Sorry about the bike. I tried to move it but I couldn’t. I think I’ve busted my collarbone. Your mate Cal got out of the Land Rover and started to walk back and for a moment, I thought he was going to finish me, but one of the others called him away. He’s a psycho, that one. Oh, and he said, “Tell your boyfriend, to go home. If I catch him following, he’ll go over the cliff.” Charming, eh?’

  ‘Yeah, charming,’ Daniel agreed, lightly. McAllum couldn’t know that he’d chosen the threat that would most chill Daniel’s blood. Most risky situations he could face with at least equanimity, sometimes even enjoying the rush of adrenalin generated by a tough physical challenge. However, the prospect of tackling heights induced in him a panic that was entirely irrational, turning his muscles to jelly and then stone.

  With an effort, he put the thought out of his mind, looking about him. ‘We must be near the coast now, surely. How much further can they go in the Land Rover, I wonder.’

  ‘They went down that track,’ Chris said, lifting her good arm awkwardly across her body and pointing.

  Daniel looked down the beam of the car’s headlights to where the road ahead bent left-handed and disappeared, while branching off to the right was a farm track, overhung with untended hedges.

  ‘I suppose that’s why they wanted to take me out, here,’ Chris continued. ‘A bike might have the advantage across country. Especially a bike like mine. I’m sorry, Dan. I feel so stupid. Bastards!’ she swore suddenly, kicking her booted heel violently into the turf and then wincing as the jolt hurt her shoulder.

  ‘Don’t. I’d probably have done just the same,’ Daniel said.

  ‘Oh, and they had a kayak on the roof, one of those lightweight ones, I’d say. Easy enough for them to carry down to the sea when they can’t drive any further. Mind you, with this wind picking up, they might not find that too easy.’

  Looking thoughtfully at the track the men had taken, Daniel turned and went back to where the bike lay on its side, braced his foot against the wheel and hauled it upright. It was no light weight and he wasn’t surprised that Chris hadn’t managed to do it with her injured shoulder, however tough she might be. He looked it over in the poor light and then wheeled it forwards towards the car. The wheels turned without catching on any bent metal, and an idea began to form in his mind. The Mercedes was a good old workhorse but it wasn’t an off-road vehicle. If he could get the bike to start, he might be in with a chance of catching up with Dennie and Co.

  Sitting astride it, he turned the key and the display lit up. So far, so good. Checking it was in neutral, he pressed the power button and with a roar, the BMW came to life.

  ‘Yay!’ Chris shouted. ‘Can you ride it?’

  ‘I’ve done a bit of biking in the past,’ Daniel confirmed. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Course not. Go for it!’

  ‘If I move the car along a bit, you can sit in it and direct the troops, if they ever get here.’

  ‘I can move it. You go, but here – take my helmet.’

  Daniel put it on, and with a sketchy salute, turned the bike towards the farm track and cautiously opened the throttle.

  FOURTEEN

  It didn’t take Daniel long to get the hang of the unfamiliar motorbike. He’d ridden off-roaders before and although those had been far lighter, the principle was the same, try to relax and let the bike find its own way through the ruts and bumps.

  Long, thorny sprays of bramble caught at his clothing as he rode down the farm track and the cool night-wind whistled through the open visor of the helmet he’d borrowed from Chris. He was glad of his leather jacket, even though it wasn’t as tough as proper biker’s gear, it kept his arms from being lacerated and would afford some protection if he came off. Just behind the bike ran Taz, thoroughly enjoying himself.

  Daniel had given Chris Jo-Ji’s number and, as he left her, she was trying to reach him to find out what, if any progress, he had made in mobilising the local police force to come to their aid. In the bike’s headlight, Daniel could see the stunted trees in the hedge, shivering and swaying in the rapidly strengthening wind, and began to wonder if a helicopter was going to be an option.

  The track he was following crested a rise and started to go downhill, becoming ever more uneven, and it took all his limited skill to keep the bike upright. Taz ranged alongside as the BMW slowed and Daniel shouted at him to keep back. His control was too precarious for it to be safe for the dog to run close. Skidding a little on loose stones as he turned a corner, he gritted his teeth as the track dropped ever more steeply and then suddenly his light picked out the Land Rover, parked up ahead.

  He rode to a halt some ten feet behind it, warily scanning it for any sign of life, but it appeared to have been abandoned, for the time being, at least.

  Knowing it could be a trap, Daniel advanced slowly, his feet walking each side of the bike, but when he drew level and cautiously peered in, there was just enough ambient light for him to see that the cab was empty. They had continued on foot then, and just ahead was the reason why; a five-bar gate with a padlock on it, and beyond, uneven rock-strewn turf with a footpath running through it.

  Either they had left their bolt-
cutters behind, or they had decided progress over the terrain beyond the gate would be so slow as to be not worth the effort of getting it open. Some of the outcrops of rock were sizeable enough to cause problems even for a Land Rover. For Daniel on the bike, though, there was a pedestrian’s gate, narrow, but passable. He walked the bike forward, leaned to open it, rode through and pushed it shut behind him, the habit ingrained from his rural upbringing.

  How far ahead were they? The ground was rising again, here, and with care, he rode the bike along the footpath between the rocks, eventually coming out of the shadow of the trees and onto flatter turf. The path was following the hedge line here and he was able to gather speed. There would obviously be no element of surprise with the noise the bike made, but what he lacked in stealth, he made up for in pace. He felt sure he must be close behind them now. He had no plan, as such, except to try to delay or disable them until the police caught up, as surely they must, soon.

  Then, looking ahead, he saw for the first time the outlines of two figures against the darkening sky, carrying something bulky. The kayak. He almost had them.

  It was only after he had travelled another twenty feet or so that the significance of just two figures impacted on his brain, and by then it was already too late.

  The third man stepped out from the shadow of the hedge swinging a branch with force at shoulder height and hit Daniel before he had a chance to brake or swerve.

  Because of the raised profile of the off-road bike, Daniel took the full force across his arms and chest instead of his neck or head, but it was still sufficient to knock him backwards off the machine. He landed on his back heavily enough to drive the breath out of his lungs, and the bike careered onwards for a few feet without him.

  Struggling for air, Daniel saw the sky black out as something moved between him and the moon. The dark shape took on form as his attacker stepped closer, raising the branch above his head with obvious intent. Daniel braced himself to try and roll away at the crucial moment, but in the instant the branch began to drive downwards, there was an angry snarl and a furry torpedo launched through the air, attaching itself to the arm that wielded the branch and throwing the man off balance and crashing to the ground.