by Pat Young
Joe looked at her as if she had gone mad. ‘Of course, he’s got a gun. What were you expecting? A Samurai sword?’
‘Joe, can we talk about this? Please?’
There was a loud click as Stan fixed something on to the barrel of his pistol.
‘Is that a silencer?’
‘It’s called a suppressor these days.’
‘Is this man a professional killer?’
‘I hope so.’
Sheila stood and grabbed his arm. ‘Joe, have you taken leave of your senses?’
Joe shrugged and replied in a chillingly calm voice, ‘Not at all. Quite the opposite. I know exactly what I’m doing and so does Marty.’
Sheila spun round to Marty. ‘Is that true, Marty? Are you okay with this?’
Marty didn’t have a chance to answer. Joe took Stan by the arm. ‘Sure, she does. She told me weeks ago she could kill Smeaton and walk away.’
Sheila looked appalled. ‘Tell me that isn’t true, Marty.’
With every face in the room watching her, Marty was unsure what to say. Deciding it was best to play dumb, she said, ‘I’d no idea this was what you had in mind.’
Joe looked as if he couldn’t believe he had heard her correctly.
‘I mean, I didn’t realise you were hiring a hitman.’
‘What did you think all those phone calls were about?’
‘Your new house.’
Joe gave a little laugh and shook his head.
‘Is there no house in Bulgaria then?’
Joe’s voice was gentle and kind. ‘Of course, there’s a house, Marty. Or at least there will be.’
Stan broke the silence. His voice muffled by the balaclava, he asked, ‘We go now?’
‘Yes, Stan,’ said Joe. ‘We go now.’
Sheila took a brave step into their path and spread her arms wide. ‘No. I can’t let you do this, Joe.’ Joe moved her gently, but firmly, to the side. Stan pushed his way past Sheila and followed Joe out the door.
Marty said, ‘Let them go. There’s nothing we can do.’
‘Of course there’s something we can do.’ Sheila barged past her. ‘We have to stop this madness.’
‘Sheila, don’t!’ shouted Marty. But her friend was gone. Marty ran after her and caught up as they reached the corner of the building.
***
CHAPTER 87
‘Joe. Don’t go in there. You can’t let Smeaton see your face.’
‘Marty,’ said Joe, his voice as patient as if he were explaining something to a child. ‘That was Plan A. Now we’re working to Plan B. If Smeaton sees my face, that’s fine by me. It will be the last thing he ever sees on this earth.’
‘Joe, please don’t do this.’
‘Go back inside, Sheila. Wait in the dorm. I’d rather you two didn’t see this. Come on, Stan. Earn your money.’
Stan staggered slightly. Joe caught him. ‘Steady up there, pal,’ he said. ‘You’ve been sitting too long in a jacket and balaclava.’
Stan reached out his arms in a bizarre hug then slumped to the ground, taking Joe with him. Joe rose to his knees and shook the man’s inert shoulders. Stan’s head bobbed like a kitten’s. Joe ripped off the balaclava. Stan appeared to be unconscious. Joe slapped the man’s face, saying over and over, ‘Stan, wake up. Stan!’
Looking around, as if for assistance, Joe stood up. ‘Marty, help me here.’
She shook her head.
Joe kicked the body at his feet and said desperately, ‘Wake up, Stan. Come on.’
‘Joe. Stop. Please,’ said Marty.
‘No, I’m going to see this through, with or without your help. I’ve been planning it for a long time and I’m not going to give up because some woose of a hitman faints on me.’ Heaving and hauling at Stan, Joe pleaded, ‘Come on, man. Wake up.’
Marty said, ‘He’s not going to wake up. Not for hours.’
‘What do mean, hours? What have you done?’
‘Rohypnol,’ she said.
‘Okay, I guess that leaves me only one option.’ Joe lifted the gun from Stan’s side and inspected it, checking it was loaded.
‘Joe, give me the gun.’
‘Shut up, Marty.’
Sheila stretched out and touched his arm. ‘Don’t do this, Joe. Please, put the gun down.’
‘Stay back, Sheila. Unless you’re prepared to help me move him out of the way.’
Joe grabbed Stan’s jacket and pulled. The weight was too much for him. The big man barely moved. ‘Give me a hand here. One of you. Please.’
When neither of them moved, Joe slid down onto his hunkers. ‘You’ve betrayed me, Marty.’
‘Joe,’ she said softly, ‘I didn’t betray you. I saved you. This is not the way. If you shoot Smeaton you’ll forfeit your own life too, don’t you see? You would never get away with it. Hiring someone to kill him is bad enough. But doing it yourself would make you a murderer.’
‘Stan and I would have been out of the country before Smeaton’s body turned cold.’
‘Speaking of body. What on earth did you plan to do with him?’ asked Sheila.
Joe pointed in the direction of the hill. ‘I thought we’d bury him. He’d never be found up here.’
‘You had all of this planned, right down to the last detail.’
‘I had, but I didn’t know Marty would sabotage it by drugging my hitman.’
‘Don’t be stupid, Joe,’ said Sheila. ‘Marty’s done you a favour. Now hand over the gun. Or I swear, I’ll phone the police.’
When the gun was safely in Sheila’s hands, Marty blew out an enormous breath. ‘I’ve done all of us a favour. If Smeaton had been killed we’d all have been implicated because we all brought him here.’
‘Of course we would and I’ve got no intention of going to prison for Smeaton. Thank God for your quick thinking.’ Sheila hugged her. ‘When did you do it? I never saw a thing.’
‘When you were over at the table handing Joe his coffee.’
‘Jeeso, that was clever. Risky, but clever.’
‘Thanks. I had to try something.’ Marty pointed at Stan. ‘What are we gonna do with this guy?’
‘I think we should bundle him into the back of Joe’s Land Rover and dump him near the main road. He found his own way here, he can find his own way back. We don’t owe him any favours.’
‘What about the gun?’
‘That should go in the loch.’
‘You’re right. I’ll go and get a plastic bag.’ Sheila went back to the bothy.
‘Don’t be long,’ called Marty. She hunkered down beside Stan and checked his breathing. ‘When he comes to he’ll have no memory of the last few hours. He might even believe he did the job then lost the gun.’
‘Marty, are you sure about this?’ said Joe.
‘Of course I’m sure. How can you even ask me that?’
‘But all those things you said.’
She got to her feet. ‘That was just talk, Joe. Stupid, meaningless talk. It made you smile and I liked that, but I don’t want him dead. I never wanted him dead.’
Joe looked like she’d ripped out his heart.
‘We can talk about this later,’ she said, bending down to take the hitman’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s get rid of Stan. He’ll need to be dropped much further away than the main road. We don’t want any chance of him turning up here later on.’
Joe didn’t move. It was as if all his energy had drained away.
‘Come on, Joe, we need to get rid of him. Fast. I’ve no idea how long he’ll be out. I didn’t have time to measure a dose. Please, get up.’
‘What’s the point?’
‘The point is, we need to get Stan out of here. I’ll drive your Land Rover if you like, and take Sheila to help me dump him. You can stay here and keep an eye on Smeaton. As long as you promise not to kill him.’
Joe looked at her, as if he wasn’t sure she was joking. ‘Nah, you’ll never be able to steer the old lady. She’s a beast. And the handbrake’s a bugger. I’ll go.’
She waved her hand towards the door. ‘Shit! You don’t think Smeaton’s been listening to all this, do you?’
‘Nah.’ Joe looked like he couldn’t care less. ‘What about when this is over, Marty?’
She offered him a hand. ‘Come on, Joe,’ she said, her voice kind and concerned. ‘Let’s get this sorted, so we can all get out of here.’
Joe took her hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. Once he was standing he put his arms round Marty and hugged her. ‘Sorry,’ he said.
Marty felt sorry too. Her eyes began to fill up.
‘Right,’ he said, letting go, ‘Let’s get Stan the Man out of here before he comes back to life and starts asking awkward questions.’
‘Aren’t you afraid of what will happen if his bosses realise he wasn’t allowed to finish the job?’
‘I’ll deal with that later. If it looks like getting nasty, I’ll pay up. After all, it was me who broke the contract, not Stan.’
‘Do you really think we’d have got away with having Smeaton killed?’
‘I’m absolutely sure of it.’ Indicating the man asleep on the ground, he said, ‘This guy comes highly recommended. Makes no mistakes.’
Marty shivered and knew it was nothing to do with the cold wind. This casual talk of killing chilled her to the core.
***
CHAPTER 88
Thomas Smeaton rubbed his bare stomach. It was rumbling like a sleepy volcano, each episode getting louder and more demanding. He was surprised to feel hunger and thirst but supposed suffering was the name of the game here. It wasn’t called purgatory for nothing.
Being assertive with God had been a waste of time. Nothing had changed. He was still here, still naked, still unforgiven. Was this to be his fate? Was he trapped here for eternity? Deprived of God’s good grace and his divine light. The prospect made him weep.
When he had run out of tears, he forced his weak body onto its knees and started to pray again. This time he’d try to sound more humble.
‘Lord, I see it clearly now. All I have ever been interested in was flexing my own muscles, showing off how much power I had. Now I know what it feels like to be totally powerless, Father, I regret with all my heart that I showed no compassion for anyone while I was alive and had the chance. Please, please forgive me.’
***
CHAPTER 89
Marty stood in front of the screen and wished Joe could have been here to witness this. Thomas Smeaton confessing a lack of compassion for his fellow man. She wondered with a tinge of regret whether an earlier repentance from Smeaton might have avoided the need for a hitman, but then she reminded herself that Joe had been organizing Smeaton’s assassination for some time. She twisted her ring round her finger and then took it off and looked at it as if she had never seen it before. The narrow gold band represented her ties to David and to Mark. Inscribed on the inside she could see the initials DD to MW and the date of their wedding day all those years ago. What madness had made her think she could walk away from the life she and David shared? Having had a wee taste of danger, safe and boring suddenly seemed quite attractive. She was overcome with a need to go home.
But first they had to get rid of the man on the screen whose voice continued to pray for people he had wronged, many of whom Marty had never even heard of.
***
CHAPTER 90
As Joe drove up the track towards the bothy, he wondered how this day could have gone so badly wrong. He had hoped that by this time, he and Marty would have been on their way to the airport, or at the very least, he would have been headed for Bulgaria with Marty due to follow him.
It was getting dark and as the last light seeped away, the sky was turning purple and the loch looked tar black in the distance. A gap in the curtains of the bothy allowed a knife blade of light to slice through the gloom. Joe cut the engine and let the Land Rover coast up in silence. He and Sheila got out and tried to close the doors without slamming. In the distance some wild bird called to the hills. It was a lonely, eerie sound and Sheila hurried to get inside.
Marty met them at the door. ‘What took you so long?’ she asked, as they piled in and discarded their coats. I made food ages ago, thinking you’d be back much sooner.’
‘Sorry,’ said Sheila. ‘We didn’t expect it to be so hard to find a good drop-off place.’
‘Where did you leave him eventually?’
‘At the back of that big supermarket you pass as you go into town.’
‘How do you know no one saw you?’
‘We were very careful, Marty. We dumped him in some bushes right in the furthest corner of the car park.’
‘Forget about it,’ said Joe, his tone abrupt. He could not be bothered explaining all the details.
Sheila said, ‘We reckoned someone would find him or he’d regain consciousness and wander into the store. But he’ll remember nothing about how he got there. We know that now, don’t we?’ She gestured towards the screen. ‘Anything to report?’
‘I believe he is finally, truly repenting his sins. You should watch it on the tape, Joe. It might give you some closure.’
‘Fuck closure,’ Joe muttered. ‘I’d still rather he was dead.’
‘Well, he’s not, Joe, and I’m grateful you didn’t go ahead with your plan.’
‘Amen to that,’ murmured Sheila.
‘You didn’t leave me much choice, did you, taking out my hitman?’ With no warning, Joe was overcome with a desire to laugh. This whole thing seemed so bizarre, it was bordering on the surreal. He opened his mouth and an immense wave of laughter came out.
At first the two women looked stunned. Then they joined in and the three of them stood in a circle, laughing and hugging with tears running down their cheeks. Marty was the first to break away, going in search of a tissue. ‘This isn’t glee, you know, this is hysteria.’
‘I think you’re right,’ spluttered Joe, wiping the tears from his eyes.
‘Let’s eat and then it will be time to clean up our guest and get him out of here.’
‘Yuck, there’s a job I’m not looking forward to. Did you remember the baby wipes?’
‘Jumbo-sized pack. But listen, have we enough Rohypnol left? I’ve been worrying about that,’ said Sheila.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got the full dose for Smeaton. Joe told me he’d ordered some extra in case of emergency. That’s what Stan got.’
‘I guess you could call doping an armed killer an emergency,’ said Sheila, giving Joe a thump on the arm and starting to laugh again. When she stopped, she looked like a drunk trying to appear sober as she said, ‘Right. Enough. Time to get serious.’
On screen, Smeaton continued to pray.
‘He’s putting in the overtime today,’ said Marty. ‘He’s never stopped since you left. I’m not listening any more, to be honest.’
‘His prayers will be answered shortly,’ said Joe. ‘We’ll have him out of there in no time.’
‘When do you want to give him the drug?’
‘I suggest we get this place organised, once we’ve finished eating, and then we’ll add it to some cold water and put it down the tube into the trough. He’ll hear it running in and be too thirsty to resist a drink. When we’re sure he’s out cold, we’ll get him as clean as we can, put him in the car and quickly dismantle everything.’
‘You’re sure he’ll drink it?’ asked Marty.
Joe nodded. ‘Trust me. He’ll be gasping for a drink by now.’
‘Won’t it destroy his illusion of purgatory if he suddenly gets his thirst quenched?’
‘Even if it does, he’ll have forgotten about getting the drink by the time he wakes up.’
‘Remember, he should have no memory of at least an hour preceding the Rohypnol,’ said Sheila. ‘Just like a few days ago.’ She took out her phone and checked it. ‘Which leaves
us just about the perfect amount of time.’ She handed her phone to Joe and said, ‘Instead of the white noise I’d like you to play this soundfile to him, Joe. I want it to be the last thing he hears in there. I need to believe he won’t ever forget it.’
Joe took the phone. ‘What is it?’
‘A tiny segment taken from a video I made of Liz on our last holiday, followed by me with a message for Smeaton.’
‘But he’ll know your voice.’
Sheila shook her head. ‘I used a voice changer app. There are thousands of them, free.’
‘Oh yeah, I’ve heard about those,’ said Marty. ‘My son uses them sometimes, for pranks.’
Joe said, ‘What do you think, Marty? It wasn’t part of the plan.’
‘Neither was having him shot.’ Marty gave him a look he found hard to read. ‘I think it’s a good idea and if it will help Sheila, then why not? Yes, go ahead. Do it now.’
Joe disconnected his phone and the white noise stopped abruptly. Smeaton reacted right away, probably relieved to hear nothing. Joe attached Sheila’s phone to the speaker cable and looked to her for a signal. She nodded and he pressed play.
The sound of a woman’s laughter filled the bothy. Smeaton sat up like a meerkat.
‘I love my life!’ declared the woman. She laughed again.
‘Prosecco had been taken,’ said Sheila, laughing too.
‘And I fully intend to make the most of it now Mum’s gone. I’ve got a bucket list the length of my arm, starting with a luxury cruise.’
Joe studied Smeaton’s body language. Did he recognise Liz’s voice? Hard to tell.
As Liz’s laughter died away, another voice, ghostly and other-worldly, echoed in the space.
‘Turn it up,’ whispered Marty.
‘Well, Thomas Smeaton,’ said the voice. ‘Did you recognise her? Liz Douglas?’
On screen they saw Smeaton nod his head, vigorously.
‘That was last summer. She loved her life. Did you hear that? Yet her life ended prematurely, only a few months later. Liz reached a point where she felt she couldn’t go on, didn’t she?’
