by P. F. Ford
‘Why? What have you got?’
‘It might be nothing, but did you know DB owns an old house a few miles out of town? Judging by the correspondence, it needs a lot of work and it’s almost derelict.’
‘He never mentioned that,’ I said, surprised. I’d known him for a few years and I’d never heard him talk of another house out in the country. How strange was that?
‘As I understand it, he bought it years ago when he was a shining star, then when he fell from grace he couldn’t afford to do the work that needed to be done. It’s all here.’ She indicated a few sheets that she had separated from the rest.
‘The thing is,’ she finished, ‘it would be a great place to keep a hostage. Out in the middle of nowhere, off the beaten track.’
She handed me a photograph and some old estate agent details. It was obviously from years ago, but even back then the house was a bit of a state. That’s why he’d bought it. In that state, it was cheap for what it was. But the potential was clear.
I could also see what she meant about it being a good place to hold a hostage.
‘This might be just what we’re looking for,’ I said. ‘You’ve done it again. You’re rather good at this aren’t you? Fancy a job?’
She laughed out loud at that. ‘I already have a job.’ She looked at her watch. ‘And I must be getting back.’
I helped her put everything back in the basket and walked to the door with her.
‘You’re a little marvel, you know? I don’t know what I’d do without you?’
‘Well, you’re going to have to do without me for now. I have to go.’
A quick kiss and cuddle and she was on her way. I watched her go, wishing she didn’t have to, then went back inside to tidy up. I was going to take the house details home with me and see if I could find out exactly where it was.
Chapter Twelve
According to my online research, the mystery house was only about five miles out of town, but despite being so close, it still managed to be so isolated that it could have been in the middle of nowhere. The aerial photo I had found showed it to be surrounded by a large area of common land to one side and farmland on the other.
The dual carriageway of the Tinton bypass wound its way from east to west a mile or so to the south of the house, but the only access was from a narrow lane that ran from the bypass up to the north. Even that lane was at least a mile from the house.
A drive climbed from the lane up to the old house which sat atop a small hill, giving commanding views over the surrounding area. If you wanted a fortress with views in all directions, it looked as if this would be the ideal place. However, the photo also appeared to show that the house was surrounded by trees and shrubs, suggesting it would be pretty well hidden from prying eyes. That would explain why I had managed to drive along that bypass so often yet never noticed this big old house on the hill. I wasn’t really sure I could gain anything by driving out there to take a look, but then what was I going to lose?
About a mile before the lane that turned off past the house, there was a lay-by. I pulled in and switched off the engine. Looking at the map, I figured I was more or less as close to the house as I could get without actually driving up the drive. I grabbed my binoculars and climbed out of my car. There were trees all along the side of the lay-by with just an occasional gap. I pushed through one of these gaps and looked up to where I thought the house should be. Unsurprisingly, using binoculars clearly showed the grounds were a jumble of overgrown trees and shrubs.
It looked as though, many years ago, someone had planted a conifer hedge along the top of the hill to hide the house from the road. It had been a great success. It was impossible to see beyond it. I spent half an hour wandering about, trying to find a better viewpoint, but that dense green hedge was very effective. I decided to drive on and go up the lane that led past the drive to the house. Maybe I could find a better view up there somewhere.
I sat at the end of the lay-by waiting for a gap in the traffic. I could see a nice big one coming up after the next vehicle – plenty of room for me to ease into the slow lane. I watched as it approached. It was one of those old Suzuki jeep things. Normally, I wouldn’t have focused on the driver, but there was something odd about the way the little jeep was sitting. It had a heavy lean towards the driver’s side, as though the suspension had broken.
I took a closer look. For a moment, I thought maybe there were three seats in the front and the driver and his passenger were getting up close and personal. Then I realised there was only one head. They wouldn’t be doing that so publicly, would they? And while he’s driving?
Then the car was close enough for me to see clearly inside, and I could see there was no one else inside that car. It was simply the case that the guy driving it was seriously big, and I’m not talking fat. And then I realised I knew who he was because we’d met before. His name was Gregov. The last time we had met, I had almost provoked him into showing me a close-up of his fists. I was in no hurry to do that again.
The problem with being as big as Gregov was that it mad it really difficult to fit in anywhere. He must have stood around six foot six inches tall and his shoulders were so wide he would have needed two seats on an aircraft. You get the picture, right? He’s one big guy. So you can imagine how he filled the front of the small jeep, and why its suspension was struggling to cope with the load.
Just at the moment one part of my brain was asking what he was doing out here, another part was reminding me that Allison Beatty had said Nash had been accompanied by a giant. This particular giant was obviously focused on listening to the radio and singing his head off, so he didn’t notice me as he passed. I slowly pulled out behind him but took my time picking up speed, making sure I wasn’t too close. I guessed that if he was busy singing, he probably wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on behind him, but there was no point in taking chances.
If this was Allison Beatty’s giant, he would surely take the next turning left and head off towards the house. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before his left indicator began to wink. As if to confirm he wasn’t paying much attention to what he was doing, he took the turning a little too fast.
I watched in fascination as the little jeep, which was already listing to starboard before he turned the steering wheel, suddenly leaned so far over as he swung the wheel to the left I felt sure it was going to tip over. But the driver was obviously used to this occurrence, and by leaning his enormous bulk across to the passenger side he immediately corrected the situation. The jeep gave a jaunty little bounce as it regained equilibrium and completed the turn.
I cautiously approached the turning, easing slowly around just in case he had
noticed I was following him. He had gained a little ground now as he accelerated up the lane, which began a long, gradual, uphill climb. I was close enough to be able to see if he turned onto the drive up to the house, but far enough back that I hoped I wouldn’t arouse his suspicions. Surely he would turn onto the drive. This just couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.
A little further on, he confirmed all my suspicions by turning left off the lane and on to the drive up to the house. I carried on past and stopped. I waited a few seconds and then slowly allowed my car to roll back until I could see up the drive. There was no sign of the little jeep so I guessed I was in the clear. The drive rose a short way and then turned to the left so I couldn’t see much, but I could see how overgrown it was and it seemed to be pretty clear the whole place was going to be like it.
I carried on up the lane, hoping I could get a better view of the house, but it turned out I had already seen as much as I was going to from the road. If I wanted to get any closer I was going to have to go cross-country, and if I was going to do that I might just as well be prepared. If Billy Bumble was up there and there was a chance to rescue him, I needed to be ready.
Chapter Thirteen
It was time to call Nugent and find out what the grapevine had told him.
�
��I haven’t been able to find out where he is yet. Everyone seems to know he’s escaped from the asylum but no one seems to know where he’s hiding out.’
‘He wasn’t in an asylum-’
‘More’s the pity,’ Nugent said. ‘I’m telling you, an asylum is where he should be. The man’s totally unhinged.’
‘Anyway,’ I said smugly, ‘I’m pretty sure I know where he is. I was just hoping you
might confirm it for me.’
‘Where? Where is he?’ demanded Nugent.
I explained to him about the old house and where it was located.
‘How come you found him and all my guys know nothing? Useless bunch of idiots. I’m going to be kicking some backsides over this.’
‘Calm down, calm down. I just got lucky, that’s all. I had an idea where he was, and then when I got near I saw his accomplice. It can’t be a coincidence.’
‘Accomplice? I thought his accomplice was behind bars.’
‘Apparently he has another one. Big bugger from Serbia or somewhere like that. And I mean big. Allison Beatty described him as a “big, ugly-looking giant”, and I promise you she’s right. The guy stands about six foot six and must weigh eighteen stone at least. And he ain’t fat.’
‘You’re right, he is a big boy,’ agreed Nugent thoughtfully, before adding, ‘So you’ve got a head-case and a giant on one side and you on the other side. I have to say, I don’t fancy your chances.’
‘Yes. Thank you for that vote of confidence, but I have got my backup.’
‘What? Your granddad? I’m sorry, I know he’s your mate, but he’s really not up to this sort of stuff, is he.’
‘You’d be surprised.’
‘You’re right, I bloody well would be.’
Nugent’s braying laugh boomed out and I had to hold the phone away from my ear for a moment.
‘If you’re so sure we can’t cope, why don’t you come along and show us how it’s done?’
‘Not my fight mate,’ he said, happily. ‘Besides, I don’t do that sort of thing these days. I’m legit now I’ve got my nightclub.’
‘Ha! Yeah. Right.’ I laughed. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it’
‘There’s one more thing you should know about our friend Mr Nash.’
‘Yeah. Go on’
‘It’s possible he’s carrying.’
‘Carrying what?’
‘A bloody handbag, of course!’ said Nugent, sounding exasperated. ‘What do you think he’s carrying, you idiot? The word is he may have got himself a shooter from somewhere.’
‘Oh!’ I said, my stomach lurching. ‘Great!’
‘Yes I know,’ agreed Nugent. ‘That’s just what we need around here, some nutcase with a bloody gun.’
‘Are you sure about this?’
‘Let’s say it’s a strong rumour, but not a one-hundred-percent-confirmed fact.’
‘Do you think I should worry about it?’
‘Really?’ His astonishment was palpable. ‘Do I think you should worry about the fact that some lunatic might try to shoot you? Will you stop being so bloody naive and listen to what I’m telling you.’
‘Is this one of your bad jokes?’ I asked, hopefully
‘Can you hear me laughing, Alfie?’
Nugent rarely called anyone by their first name, so I knew he was for real. Crap! This was not good news. I was planning on asking Positive Pete to come along with me, but now? I mean, how would I phrase that exactly?
‘Oh by the way, Pete, you might get your head blown off?’ I would have to think about this. Very carefully.
I became lost on my thoughts for a moment until Nugent’s voice boomed in my ear again.
‘So, what are you going to do, then? If you’ve got any sense, you’ll just keep well out of it. That Billy Bumble’s a waste of space anyway.’
‘No can do,’ I said, very definitely. ‘I promised Allison, you see.’
‘You didn’t promise her you wanted to die, did you?’
‘The thing is, she’s been let down so many times by so many people. I just can’t do that to her. She didn’t hesitate to help me when I asked her to give evidence against Nash’s old man, and I’m not going to turn my back on her now. Whether you think Billy Bumble’s a waste of space or not, Allison thinks the world of him. They actually seem to care about each other.’
‘He’s a bumbling idiot and she’s just some fat slag. They’re not worth it.’
‘You think you’re persuading me why I should turn away, but all you’re really
doing is highlighting the differences between you and me. You say she’s a “fat slag”, but have you ever spoken to her?’
I didn’t give him time to answer before I continued.
‘Of course you haven’t. But I have, you see. She might look as rough as a badger’s arse on the outside, but I’ve seen what’s hiding on the inside. I’m not going to try and explain it to you now. Maybe when I’ve got a spare week or two.’
To my great surprise he still offered no response, so I carried on.
‘Anyway, you said he “might have a gun”. That’s not a definite “has got a gun”, is it?’
‘It would be bloody definite enough for me if I didn’t have to go.’
‘But that’s what I’m saying. I do have to go.’
‘I give up with you,’ Nugent said, defeat loud and clear in his voice. ‘You think you’re some sort of hero, but you’re not, you know. You’re just a big bloody idiot who’s likely to get his head blown off.’
With that final thought echoing in my ear, the line went dead. But I think he’d managed to make it quite clear what he thought of my chances of rescuing Billy Bumble.
I wondered, was he right? Was I really just being reckless, playing the hero? Or was I just doing the right thing? I certainly didn’t think of myself as a hero. Quite the opposite in fact.
Chapter Fourteen
I pulled the car into the lay-by, killed the lights, and switched off the engine. We both sat quite still for a few moments.
‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Pete.
‘Honestly?’ I answered. ‘No. I don’t know for sure if Nash is up there, and even if he is, I don’t know that he’s definitely holding Billy Bumble as a hostage. I just know I feel I’m obliged to find out. I think I owe Allison that much at least. As for what happens after that, I’ll just have to wait and see.’
‘So this could all be a complete waste of time.’
‘Pete, if you want to pull out I don’t mind. I mean, this is my problem not yours.’
‘Piss off!’ he said, with some feeling. ‘I didn’t get dressed up in all this ninja gear just so I could go back home.’
The ‘ninja gear’ he was referring to was simply a black tracksuit. We were both wearing them along with black gloves and black boots. It was hardly ‘ninja’, but if anyone was looking from the house it should make us harder to spot.
‘Anyway’ he continued, ‘Daphne’s out tonight so I’ve got nothing else to do. You never know, this might be fun.’
‘Yeah,’ I agreed, doubtfully. ‘You never know.’
Well, I had to hand it to him, he was living up to his name. He was definitely looking for the positive side of this particular situation I’d drawn him into.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Before we start, just run the plan past me again.’
To call it a plan was something of an exaggeration. It was, to put it mildly, pretty basic. I was taking a gamble on there being just Nash, Gregov, and their reluctant captive up at the house. I also thought it unlikely they would be expecting visitors, especially if those visitors were coming cross-country.
So the plan was simply that – we would go cross-country and use the huge conifer hedge as cover. Once we got there, we could have a look at the house and figure it out from there. Like I said, it was hardly a plan at all; we were more or less flying by the seat of our pants.
But then we weren’t exactly supposed to be the SAS, were we?
&nb
sp; We had waited until it was dark before we got here, but a full moon had conveniently come out to offer some help. I was very grateful for this as we had nothing sophisticated like night vision glasses, and torches would have been easy to spot if anyone was watching from the house.
‘Okay,’ I said quietly, as we made our way through a gap in the trees. ‘Let’s try to stick together and only talk when we really have to. Keep touching so we know where we both are if the moon goes in.’
‘Got it,’ said Pete.
It was patchy scrub and gorse beyond the trees, but a path seemed to lead towards the house so I started to follow it. After a few minutes, I noticed the gorse was thinning out and soon it was gone altogether.
The ground seemed to be soft, almost like a carpet, interspersed with tufts of what seemed to be long grass. So far, we were making good progress. The land was more or less flat down here but I knew it would get a fair bit steeper before we reached the big hedge.
It was a fairly cold night, not quite cold enough to freeze but enough for it to start
to get a bit misty. There was an odd sort of smell and the air seemed to be rather damp. I felt it should mean something to me but whatever it was remained tantalisingly out of reach, buried away in the depths of my memory.
The path eventually seemed to run out, but we could still see that huge green hedge up on top of the hill, so we knew where we were headed. My right boot seemed to be working loose so I stopped and knelt to tie my shoelace. Pete put his hand on my shoulder as he passed me and went on ahead.
The tufts of grass were becoming more common now and we were having to weave in and out of them and step over them more and more. I caught up with Pete and touched his arm just to let him know I was there. He stopped for a moment. This time there was no way we could weave in and out of the tufty grass. We were just going to have to take some big steps over the top. So he did.
There was a loud splash.
‘Oh bollocks,’ hissed Pete. ‘There’s a bloody great puddle here.’
