Shifty smacked his lips and sooked the milky-pink juices from his fingers, before scrunching up the waxy paper his kebab came in and chucking it in over his shoulder.
Well, we were going to burn the car anyway, what was the point keeping it tidy?
He scrubbed his face with a napkin. ‘Any joy?’
I put Alice’s phone back in my pocket. ‘No change. Doctor says she’s stable.’
Shifty nodded. ‘But that’s good, right? Stable? Means nothing’s gone wrong.’
‘Yeah...’
Wind tore at the car, rocking it on its springs, screaming around the doorframes, groaning through the gap between the chassis and the potholed road. As if the dying town was crying out in pain.
Shifty’s napkin joined the kebab wrapper. ‘You sure they’re here?’
‘Nope. But my phone is.’
He nodded. ‘Maybe it’s a trap?’
‘How could it be a trap? They think I’m dead. And they don’t know about the tracker app.’ I pulled my new Minion rucksack through from the back, unzipped it, and pulled out the gun. Small and black against the pale grey shape of my gloved hand. The nitrile surface sticky and squeaking against the grip as I held the .22 up. ‘Besides, we’ve got this.’
‘Still think we’d be better with baseball bats.’ But he put the Renault in gear anyway, drifting down the hill, nice and slow. Shame we couldn’t have the headlights on: it might have meant not crunching and lurching through every single sodding pothole on the way down. ‘Can’t see another car, can you?’
Apart from the MIU, the road was empty. Even Helen’s caravan was gone.
‘Maybe they parked somewhere else and walked?’
‘In this?’ Shifty peered out through the rain-lashed windscreen. ‘You’d have to be off your bloody head.’ He slowed to a halt, two houses back from the new fence line. ‘And so do we.’
The safety notice had broken loose from its bottom moorings, leaving the sign to hinge up and clang back down against the chain-link, setting the metal rattling. ‘WARNING! ~ COASTAL EROSION ZONE ~ NO ENTRY ~ DANGER OF DEATH’
‘You ready?’
He reached behind his seat and came out with an extendable baton, then into his jacket for a palm-sized can of pepper spray. Flicked the cover off, gave the thing a shake, then flicked the cover back on again. ‘Ash?’
‘Shifty.’ I pulled the gun’s slide back, racking a round into the breech. Joseph was right — it was easy enough for someone with ‘restricted hand mobility’.
‘It’s... you know?’ Shifty wriggled in his seat. ‘We’ve never killed anyone before. Not killed, killed. Pretty much everything, but.’ A long breath. ‘I guess I’m a bit—’
‘So give me the keys and stay in the car.’
‘Really?’ Looking at me, face sagging at the edges. ‘And let you walk in there, alone? With no backup?’ He turned the engine off. ‘How’s the saying go? A friend will help you move house; a real friend will help you kill a pair of murdering scumbags, dispose of their bodies, and wheech a security van full of stolen artworks out from under the nose of a psychotic religious nutjob.’ A nod, then he opened his car door, letting in the outraged bellowing of Storm Victoria.
I struggled out the other side, clutching onto the car door as the wind tried to tear it from my bandaged fingers. Struggling to hold it and the gun and my walking stick all at the same time. Might be better to stick the safety on again and put the .22 in my pocket. At least till we were inside. Rain battered its frozen nails into my face, sparking like fireworks against my jacket as I lurch-staggered my way along the wet pavement to the security fence.
Shifty got there first, huge round shoulders turned against the storm, water running off his big bald head. He grabbed the two nearest sections of fence and pulled at them — the padlocked chain held them too close to get through.
OK, so Gordon and Leah wouldn’t have cut the chain somewhere obvious, like here, they would’ve done it somewhere out of the way, somewhere less easily spotted.
I worked my way left, along the line, testing as I went. Through the gap between the two houses — caught in a sudden and blissful stillness as they acted as a windbreak — still nothing. Then along the waist-high wall separating their back gardens. Curling forwards into the wind again.
The cut section was at the far end, where the gardens of Helen’s street butted onto those of the next street over. Just as dark and deserted. Which explained how they’d got in without anyone noticing. Have to hope they hadn’t got out the same way.
We slipped between the unchained sections, over the boundary wall, and into the back garden of the house next to Helen’s. Sticking as close to the building as possible for shelter. One more short wall and we were on Helen’s property.
The wind was stronger here, punching into my chest, trying to steal my legs out from underneath me. And oh, how the sea roared.
A huge chunk of the garden had already surrendered to the waves, leaving the far edge of the house sticking out into the void. Only by three or four foot, but still... Wouldn’t take much for the entire thing to go crashing over the edge.
Yeah, this was a really stupid idea.
Maybe we should keep an eye on the place instead? Hang back and wait to see if Gordon and Leah came out? Jump on them then?
And give up the cover of night, the element of surprise, and any chance of killing the pair of them. There’d be a police presence back here by seven, doubt whoever got the early shift would look the other way while we did what needed to be done.
So it was this, or nothing.
And with any luck, the house would stay in one piece till we’d got out of there.
Shifty pointed at the kitchen door, and I nodded.
He took Helen’s car keys, then worked his way through the bunch till one slid home into the lock and turned. We crept inside. Closed the door, nice and gentle, behind us.
Stood there, dripping on the linoleum. Trying not to breathe too loudly.
46
The outline of work surfaces and kitchen units lurked in the gloom, not enough light filtering in through the window to make out any detail. Breath a dark grey fog, cold biting at my wet skin.
All around us the house creaked and groaned in the wind. That sizzling hiss of rain smashing itself against the kitchen window.
I slipped the gun from my pocket, gloved fingertips exploring the metal above the handle, till the safety catch clicked off. Keeping my voice barely audible. ‘OK. We search each room, slow and careful.’
Shifty’s reply was equally quiet: ‘Why are they lurking in the dark if this isn’t a trap?’
Now that was a very good question.
‘Well... it’s what, half two in the morning? Maybe they’re asleep.’ In a house that could fall into the North Sea at any minute? Not exactly likely. ‘Look, just be careful, OK?’
I crept out of the kitchen into the hallway. It was even darker — not so much as a sliver of natural light to chisel shapes out of the blackness. Inching forwards, using the walking stick to find the edges of obstacles before I barged into them.
The first door opened on a smallish room with tiled walls, going by the way my scuffing feet echoed back at me. A rectangle of dark grey against the black was probably a bathroom window...
This was stupid. How were we supposed to search the place if we couldn’t see anything? ‘Shifty, where are you?’
His voice was a whisper at my back. ‘Here.’
‘Can you turn the torch down on your phone, or is it full pelt or nothing?’