Electric Light (Blair Dubh Trilogy #3) (9 page)

BOOK: Electric Light (Blair Dubh Trilogy #3)
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“We need to tell the Sarge. I know, we’ll go out the back way.”

“What if we get shot? We’ve no idea where the shooter is.”

“If they shot someone in the main street then they’re obviously on this side. If we go out the back they won’t be able to see us. I’ll go. You stay here and keep an eye out.”

“No, I’ll go. It’ll be dangerous.”

“I can handle a bit of danger,” frowned Steve.

“Look, you’re my pal. I’ll do it.”

Steve smiled, touched. “You sure?”

“If you tell anyone I’ll knock you out. Stay down and keep safe.”

Before he could say another word Gary had jogged to the back door.

“Gary?” called Steve.

“I’m going and you’re not going to stop me.”

“I know that, but take off your luminous jacket. You don’t want to give the sniper a bull’s eye.”

Muttering to himself Gary shrugged off the jacket, letting it drop on the kitchen floor.

Steve watched him tentatively open the door then look left and right before disappearing into the night, pulling the door shut behind him. Steve locked it then jogged upstairs and hesitated on the threshold to Adam’s bedroom, the room where he’d died. The distinctive coppery smell of spilt blood was still very strong, a mess of gore up the wall. Forensics were due back in the morning so everything had been left exactly as it was, except for the body, which had already been transported to the mortuary. He shouldn’t even be in here but this was more important because there was a strong possibility Adam had been murdered.

A superstitious tingle ran down his spine. He’d never been comfortable around death and the thought of restless spirits made him very nervous. He’d never shared these fears with his colleagues, they’d only take the piss out of him, but that didn’t make the shivers go away.

Carefully he tiptoed across the room, trying to destroy as little evidence as possible. If Gary was wrong and that was a sodding carpet on the ground outside then his career would be on the ropes. But he trusted Gary’s judgment. He hoped he was okay out there.

Steve crouched down by the window, jumping when there was another boom of thunder.

“Idiot,” he whispered to himself. Sometimes he wished he was like Gary - unimaginative and with nerves of steel.

The room was in darkness so he hoped he wouldn’t be visible as peeked his head slightly above the parapet, half-expecting a bullet to come whizzing through the window. Sheet lightning lit up the street below and what Gary had initially thought were four rolled-up carpets were actually five.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” he whispered. “There’s another one now.” Gary had definitely counted four earlier. What if one of them was Gary? A jolt of alarm ran through his body until he’d calculated that there hadn’t been enough time for him to get down the back lane, around the side of the last cottage and across the road. Neither would he have walked into the firing line like that, he might be a bit of a daftie but he wasn’t thick.

Steve strained to see if any of those lumps were moving but they were all still. The sky was lit up again and he saw the dark stains surrounding each lump, obscene sticky black puddles.

Steve sank down below the level of the window. What was going on? One thing was for sure though, poor Adam had been murdered.

Gritting his teeth he rushed downstairs. He couldn’t just cower in here, the village needed him.

CHAPTER 10

 

“Alright Craig, I’m ready to go,” announced Nora.

“You’re sure you don’t want another barrel of whisky first?”

“You’re not too old to be put over my knee,” she frowned.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s get back, I need to call Freya.”

Nora, overcome with remorse and alcohol, became very maudlin. “You know Craig, I’m really sorry for what I said about her. She’s suffered so much and I’m going to really make the effort to visit you in Glasgow. I can get on the train, I’m not decrepit yet.”

“Mum, it’s okay.”

“I really mean it, I’m sorry,” she said, lower lip wobbling.

Craig was horrified when it looked like she was going to cry. “Really, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s not…I just…”

Craig looked to Bill for help when Nora buried her face in her hands and her shoulders started to shake. Bill, amused by Craig’s bewilderment, smiled and shook his head.

“Let’s get you home. Come on,” he said, steering her towards the door.

“Wait, let me sort myself out first,” she said when he grabbed the door handle and started to pull it open,

The sound of thunder sneaking through the gap in the door making Craig shudder. God this village was creepy. He let the door swing shut, impatiently waiting while his mother dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “No one’s going to see you, it’s dark out there.”

“I might have made an idiot of myself but I do have some dignity left. I’m not going out looking a fright.”

Craig shuffled impatiently while she ran her fingers through her hair.

“Ready?” said Craig.

“Ready.”

“Finally,” he said, opening the door.

“Shut the door,” yelled a voice from deep within the pub.

“Who’s shouting?” frowned Nora.

Gary pelted in through the back door. “It’s not Adam.”

“What’s not Adam?” said Nora. “What’s the man talking about?”

Craig spotted the hole in the front door, put there by something small travelling at great speed.

“Get down Mum,” he yelled, shoving her aside just as something whizzed through the open door past them and smashed into the wall at the back of the room, causing a table of five septuagenarians to jump.

Craig kicked the door shut and sprang back from it, listening to something thud into the other side. Thank God that door was huge and reinforced.

“Is everyone okay?” he called.

“Ow, my ankle,” groused Nora, sitting upright and rubbing the injured joint. “That didn’t help.” She looked up at her son and her mouth dropped open in horror. “You’re bleeding.”

He looked down at himself and saw blood staining the left side of his t-shirt. Immediately his thoughts leapt to Freya and Petie. Part of him was frightened to lift the t-shirt, afraid of seeing a huge hole there. He couldn’t actually feel anything, the whole area was numb.

“Someone help him, please,” called Nora, trying to get to her feet but the horrible pain in her ankle prevented her from rising.

“Get away from the door,” said Gary, taking her arm and helping her hobble to safety.

“What’s going on? I don’t understand,” said Lizzy, assisting a very pale Craig to a table and gently settling him down in a chair.

“Never mind that yet, is Craig alright? Oh my God,” cried Nora when Lizzy raised his t-shirt.

“Calm down, it’s not as bad as it looks,” said Lizzy. “A lot of blood but I think it’s just a nick. Gordon, could you set some water to boil? I’ll need some clean cloths too and your first aid kit.”

“No problem Lizzy,” he said. Gordon headed to the door that opened onto the stairs, leading up to the flat above the pub and hesitated. “Is it safe for me to go up there?”

“Just keep your head below the window,” said Gary, rushing to Craig’s side after settling Nora in a chair. “You alright Sarge?”

Craig nodded, slightly dazed. “What’s going on?”

“You were right. Adam wasn’t the sniper,” replied Gary. “He must have been set up. The real sniper’s not done with us yet.”

“How did you find out?”

Realising everyone was staring at him Gary lowered his voice. “I saw four bodies out on the street. There might be more by now.”

Craig gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes tight shut. “Oh shit. Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Craig thought of all the people who had left the pub and his heart almost broke.

They all jumped when there was a terrific banging from the direction of the back door and Steve charged in. “There’s a sniper.”

“Yes, we know,” said Bill.

He looked to Gary. “You made it, thank Christ.”

“First thing we do is lock all the doors,” called Craig, the sensation returning to his body, bringing with it a fire in his side. “Ow, Jesus,” he groaned.

“Okay Sarge?” said Gary anxiously.

“Fine. Doors. Now.”

He nodded and bolted the front door while Steve went to lock the back. Fortunately the curtains were already drawn, a longstanding habit of Gordon’s when it started to get dark, privacy had become a necessity when he started flouting the licensing laws and hosting lock-ins.

“Craig, are you alright?” said Nora, attempting to get to her feet. “Bill, help me to my son.”

“Okay Nora, take it easy,” he said as he assisted her across the room.

“He’ll be fine, it just nicked the skin. Looks worse than it is,” assured Lizzy. “Gordon, hurry up,” she bellowed in Craig’s ear, making him wince.

“Alright, I’m coming,” called back Gordon, his voice accompanied by the thunder of footsteps coming back down the stairs. He hesitated at the bottom to go into a crouch, creeping round the corner, clutching all the items Lizzy had requested.

“The sniper can’t see in, the curtains are closed,” said Jimmy dryly.

“Oh yeah, right,” said Gordon, straightening up. He deposited all the items on the table before Lizzy, who set about tending to Craig’s wound.

Everyone gathered round to listen to Steve and Gary relate their experiences. Some of the villagers were in tears as they recalled how many of their fellow residents had already left the pub.

“I think five of them have left,” said Jeanette.

“No, seven. Tommy and Jean went too just before Gary got here,” said Toby, pale and quiet. He glanced at the two tourists, who looked afraid. For some reason this gave him pleasure.

“They can’t all be dead,” sobbed Howard. Toby looked to him and gave him a manly slap on the back that was meant to be comforting but actually knocked the small man forward in his seat.

“We don’t know that they are,” said Steve. “We only saw five bodies.”

“Only?” exclaimed Bill. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Sorry, bad choice of words.”

“Gary, Steve, get on your radios,” said Craig, face shockingly white, sweat beading on his forehead as Lizzy tended to his wound. “We need armed response.”

“We’ve been trying but we can’t raise anyone because of this bloody storm,” said Gary.

“Mobiles?”

“The same,” said Steve.

“Gordon has a landline.”

“Err, actually I had a row with the thieving phone company over the bill and I…well…I got cut off,” he mumbled hanging his head.

“You daft bugger,” chided Bill.

Gordon’s head snapped back up. “I’m sorry for not being psychic. If I’d known some lunatic was going to start bumping us off one by one
again
then I would have paid the fucking bill.”

“Haven’t you learnt by now that there’s usually some nutter in Blair Dubh trying to kill someone?”

“Don’t start on me, I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“What a way to run a business, no phone.”

“I have my mobile.”

“Fat lot of use that is at the moment.”

“Will you two shut up?” yelled Nora. “Turning on each other’s not going to help. You remember what happened last time we started tearing lumps out of each other?”

Bill’s face turned bright red with shame as he recalled how he’d almost got Freya killed because he’d kidnapped her and locked her up. “Sorry Nora,” he said hoarsely.

“It’s vital we all keep it together. We’ve never needed each other more. Now, there’s a madman outside with a gun picking us off one by one. What do we do?”

They all turned to look at Craig to lead the way, who was starting to recover from the shock of being shot now Lizzy had staunched the blood flow. “There’s not much we can do except hole up here and avoid getting shot until we can get through to the cavalry,” he said. “We stay down and we stay quiet. I want someone on their mobile phone continuously trying to get through to the emergency services.”

“I…I can do that,” stammered Toby, taking his phone out of his jacket pocket. “I need something to focus my mind on anyway.”

“And me,” said Howard.

“We’ve got our phones too,” said Todd, indicating himself and his wife.

“The more the merrier,” said Craig. “Mum, have you got yours?”

“I have,” she said, snatching it out of her coat pocket, glad to be given something practical to do.

“Good. Now, do we have any weapons?” continued Craig. “Preferably guns.”

“I have a shotgun locked in a box upstairs,” said Gordon. “I’ve got plenty of ammo too. It’s licenced,” he hastily added. “I use it for hunting rabbits and crows. I hate crows,” he said darkly.

“Great. Get it. No one handles it but you though.”

“You think the gunman might try to get in here?” he asked, paling.

“It’s a possibility and I want to be prepared.”

“Okay, I’ll get it then,” he said before hurrying back upstairs.

“There’s nothing else we can do,” Craig said, addressing the room. “We stay here and keep out of sight until the emergency services arrive. Don’t give the sniper another target.”

“That’s your plan? We just wait here?” said Toby, the phone pressed to his ear. He puffed his cheeks out with frustration. “Dammit, still no signal.”

“You’re welcome to go out there and take a look around,” replied Craig.

Toby just glowered at him as he redialled the emergency services.

Steve jumped when the radio burst into life in his hands. “Control, thank Christ. This is….” His face fell as the burst of static died. “Shit, it’s gone again. Oh no, it’s back.”

Craig frowned as he looked around the room. “Wait a minute, what about the fud?”

They all looked around for Hughes but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Shit,” said Gary. “He’s on guard duty at the McNab cottage. He might not even know what’s happened.”

“He wouldn’t have heard the shots because they were silenced but surely he would have heard all the yelling?” said Craig.

“Not necessarily,” said Gary. “A few months ago I was guarding another crime scene with him one night. Wee bastard fell asleep leaving me to do all the watching. Nothing could wake him. In the end I had to throw cold water all over him to wake him up. I blamed it on a broken water pipe,” he grinned.

“So he could be in the McNab’s cottage, fucking snoring?”

“Better that than lying in the street with a bullet in the head.”

“Oh this just gets better and better,” sighed Craig. “Steve, get on your radio again and try and raise him. We have to warn him.”

Steve tried but was once again greeted with the crackle of static. “Sorry, I’ve got sod all.”

“Then I have to go over there,” said Craig.

“No, you can’t,” cried Nora.

“Have you finished Lizzy?” he said calmly.

“Yep, almost as good as new,” she said. “The bandage is taped on and it should do until you can get to hospital but it will need some stitches. Don’t go doing anything silly that will open it up.”

“Thanks,” he said, getting to his feet and making for the door.

“Bill, Jimmy, stop him,” exclaimed Nora.

The two men placed themselves between Craig and the door.

“Nora’s right, we can’t let you go out there, you’ll get your head blown off,” said Bill.

“We can’t just leave Hughes to get murdered, he must be warned.”

“If it was anyone else I’d agree with you but that incompetent wee bastard almost got Freya killed.”

“I’m not going to sit by and do nothing and let someone get shot, no matter who they are. Out of my way.”

“No,” said Bill.

“You remember the last time you tried to stop me you came off worse?” spat Craig. “Now fucking move before I do you for obstruction.”

“The Sarge is right,” said Steve. “We have to help Hughes, even if he is a prick.” He turned to Craig. “But you can stay here, you’ve got a wee boy and a wife to think of.”

“And you’ve got a fiancée.”

“Sod it, we’ll all go, all coppers together,” said Gary with a grim smile.

Craig nodded.

“Please don’t,” croaked a voice.

BOOK: Electric Light (Blair Dubh Trilogy #3)
8.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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