‘They came to talk to me about this.’ Guy handed him Clare’s letter. ‘They tell me you wrote it. Did you?’
Owen read the letter. He chuckled softly to himself.
‘Did you?’ asked Guy again.
Owen shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
Guy’s eyes narrowed. He glanced at Ingrid and me. ‘Owen, if you did write this, it’s pretty dumb. If Ninetyminutes does get sold, killing Clare isn’t going to bring it back.’
‘Did she fold?’ Owen asked.
‘No,’ said Guy. ‘We haven’t heard anything from her. Or from Mercia Metro TV.’
‘Then I guess it was pretty dumb,’ said Owen.
‘There’s no point in harming Clare now,’ I said. ‘Ninetyminutes is going to be sold to Champion Starsat whatever you do to her or anyone else.’
Owen glared at me. His small black eyes gleamed with anger. He was about to say something when he noticed the gun on Guy’s desk. He reached over and picked it up.
I tensed. Owen was dangerous enough. Owen with a gun was lethal.
‘So, you had a use for this after all,’ he said to Guy. ‘I was scared you were going to, like, top yourself with it.’
Guy looked uncomfortable.
‘You were going to top yourself.’ Owen pulled up a chair next to Guy’s desk and lowered himself into it. ‘That’s why you wanted to be by yourself tonight. Then these jerks disturbed you. I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone.’
‘What about Clare?’ I said.
Big mistake. Owen exploded. ‘Screw Clare! I don’t give a shit what happens to her. She’s given Ninetyminutes away.’ He jabbed the gun towards me, using it more as a finger than as a weapon. ‘And screw you too. Can you see what you’ve done to my brother? It was you who totally fucked up Ninetyminutes. If it hadn’t been for you, he’d be fine now, not sitting here planning to blow his brains out.’
‘Give me the gun, Owen,’ Guy said quietly.
‘So you can use it on yourself? No fuckin’ way. I’m gonna use it. On this bastard.’
He raised the gun and pointed it towards me. He was aiming now, not jabbing.
‘Owen, wait!’ Guy protested.
‘No. This fucker deserves to die. He’s gonna die.’
Ingrid let out a small scream.
‘You too, baby. One goes, you both go.’
‘Don’t do it, Owen. It’s stupid.’
‘Of course it’s not stupid. If I hadn’t shown up just now, you’d have shot yourself. And all because of him.’ Owen stared at me hard down the barrel of the gun. He was angry, but he wasn’t out of control. He was very much in control. He knew what he was doing and he was determined to do it.
‘I’m telling you. Give me the gun.’
Guy’s voice was firm. But Owen ignored it. He didn’t move his eyes away from me. I heard the click of the safety catch. He was going to pull the trigger.
‘OK, OK.’ Guy ran his fingers through his hair. His expression changed. From a state of confusion, he suddenly became focused. Angry. ‘You’re right, Owen,’ he said. ‘It is all this bastard’s fault. But let me think. There’s no point in shooting him and waiting for the police to arrive.’
I stared at Guy. Had he gone mad? He looked very sane. Angry, but sane.
Owen stared at his brother too.
‘Guy?’ I said.
‘Shut the fuck up.’
‘Guy. You can’t let Owen do this.’
‘I said, shut the fuck up!’ Guy screamed. ‘Owen’s got it dead right. I should never have hired you. I shouldn’t have listened to you whining about Owen and Henry and my father. I shouldn’t have let you sell Ninetyminutes out from underneath me. I should have fired you months ago.’ He leapt out of his chair, placing his face inches from mine. It was full of hate. I had never seen him like this, even in his worst moments.
Guy had cracked.
‘You speck of shit. You’re going to die, Davo, and I’m going to enjoy it when you do.’ He stepped back and spoke to his brother. ‘But we’ve got to think about this, Owen. Give ourselves time. Kill these two and then get out of the country before anyone realizes they’ve gone.’
Owen nodded his head. He didn’t actually smile, but you could see him swell with pleasure. His big brother was on his side. They were going to run off together, just the two of them, looking after each other as they should have done all along.
‘I’m gonna shoot the fucker,’ he said. Just to be clear.
‘Yeah, I know. But not here. Not now. We need to take them away somewhere.’
‘We can shoot them and move the bodies.’
‘Hey, let me do the thinking, will you?’ snapped Guy. ‘I sorted things after Dominique, I can sort things now. People will see us shifting bodies around. I’ll go and get your car and bring it back here. We’ll put them in alive, and take them somewhere a bit more remote. Maybe somewhere on the way to Dover. Give me the keys.’
Owen thought for a second and then reached into his pocket. He threw Guy a bunch. ‘I’ll get your passport while I’m at it. I’ve got mine here.’ He reached down into the bag by his desk and pulled out his own passport, showing it to Owen. ‘I won’t be long. Keep them covered. And if they try anything, shoot them. It’ll be messier, but we’ll figure something out.’
He was gone.
40
Ingrid and I were left facing Owen and a gun.
How long would Guy be? Owen’s flat was in Camden, not too far away. It wouldn’t take him long to fetch the car if he took a cab there. Twenty minutes maybe? It would be a long twenty minutes.
Ingrid was still perched on the desk, beside me. She moved her hand out to mine. I held it.
‘How cute,’ said Owen. He shifted his aim slightly away from my head and towards our hands. ‘But let go, or I’ll blow your fingers off.’
We let go.
I cursed myself for allowing her to come, even though it would have been impossible to stop her. Owen wanted to kill me. He didn’t care about Ingrid, but now she would die too.
I still couldn’t believe the transformation I had seen in Guy. He had turned from confused and suicidal to focused and murderous. Something had snapped. This was a Guy I did not recognize, a Guy I did not know.
I wondered where they’d take us. Probably to some woods somewhere in Kent. They’d shoot us, dump us, and drive on to the ferry and the Continent. Would they escape? Between the two of them, they were pretty resourceful. They might.
I thought about dying. About my parents, how distraught they would be. About what I had achieved with my life. To my surprise, I found myself thinking about Ninetyminutes. That was something. Something good. Then I realized it was all going to be over. Sometime in the next hour or so, it was all going to be over.
I glanced at Owen. He saw the fear in my eyes. He smiled.
I tried to get a grip of myself. I had no intention of giving that bastard any pleasure.
We sat there a long time. It seemed longer than twenty minutes, but I didn’t want to check my watch in case it provoked Owen. He sat solidly still. If he was impatient or jumpy, he didn’t show it. His eyes never left me. He had the ghost of a smile, a complacent, self-satisfied smile. He liked to watch me sitting there in fear. He was enjoying this.
Then Ingrid spoke. ‘Owen?’ she said softly. ‘You could just leave us, you know. You could easily get away, just the two of you. We wouldn’t call the police until the morning.’
‘Quiet,’ Owen said. ‘Don’t even try to talk your way out of this.’
‘But, Owen—’
‘I said, quiet!’ He raised the gun.
Just then, we heard the sound of Guy running up the stairs, two at a time. He banged open the door.
‘You took your time,’ Owen said.