Falling (24 page)
A few seconds later the garage
door starts to move up. We watch, stock still, as a body rolls out under the
rising door before it is even half open. At the same time the front door opens
and Simon emerges. The person from the garage stands up and stumbles forward.
Simon rushes to catch the falling form and I catch a glimpse of Charlie’s face.
Words are said and Charlie is pushed to the ground and Simon kicks him. I
almost stand up to shout but George grabs my arm and holds me close. We watch
as Simon drags Charlie back into the garage and as the door closes the garage
light flicks on. Then there is silence.
George nudges me and points at
the front door. It is open. Well we wanted an opportunity and this would seem
to be one. I stand up and George follows me and we jog down the driveway and up
to the front door. I stop and listen. There are some sounds from the garage but
nothing else.
I push the door open a little and
stick my head in. With a deep breath I take a step and enter the hallway.
George waits outside and keeps an eye on the garage. I come to a halt and try
and catch any more sounds but even the garage noise has stopped. There is a
large room to my left and I walk forward and look in. There is no-one there and
I signal George to follow me. We both enter what seems to be the living room.
The room is well decorated but a
little sparse for my taste. I’m in no mood to hang around writing a feature
article. I want to find somewhere to get my head down and work out the next
move. I point to a door at the far end of the room and we cross the room
feeling expensive carpet beneath our feet. There is no light under the door and
I open it to find myself on the edge of a large farmhouse kitchen.
There is the noise of a door
opening from deeper in the house and I push George forward and rush into the
kitchen closing the door behind me. I can hear voices and in the dark I try and
find somewhere to hide.
‘He’ll not get out a second
time.’
It sounds like a woman’s voice.
To my left is a glass panelled
door that seems to lead to the back garden. Next to it is another door and I
hope it is the utility room. All big houses have utility rooms - don’t they?
I urge George towards the door.
The voices are getting closer. I open the door and smell clean laundry and we
enter just as the door from the living room to the kitchen opens and the light
goes on.
We hover in the small utility
room and I am sweating. Next to me George is breathing heavily and I’m scared
he’ll be heard. I put my hand to his mouth and then my finger to my lips and
mouth the ‘shhh’ sound.
There is a door behind me. I ease
the handle down but it holds fast. Locked. If anyone walks into the room we are
caught.
The utility room is a simple
affair. Along one wall lies a washing machine, dryer and dishwasher. The
opposite wall to the machines is blank save for the entrance door. The room is
narrow, less than eight feet wide and the door I have just tried is the only
other object of note.
George and I take up most of the
spare floor space.
I slide past George and try to
listen to what is going on in the kitchen. I can hear two voices; a man and a
woman’s. They are talking about Charlie and the woman is working herself up
into a lather about what she wants to do to him. The man is more restrained and
I can sense caution in his voice. They want to know how much Charlie knows. I
hear my name and George’s mentioned in connection with the documents and then
the woman’s voice says they will deal with us later.
I’m not too keen on the phrase
‘deal with us later.’
I hear the whisp of the fridge
door closing, a clink of glass and then the light goes out and the voices leave
the kitchen and return to the living room. George whispers the word ‘Karen’ and
in the dark gives me a little background.
Things are not looking good and I
decide we need to get out of the utility room. We are no use to man nor beast
in here and if Charlie is still in the garage then that is where we need to get
to.
I’m counting on surprise. I can’t
believe that Simon or Karen will expect us to turn up. If we can catch them
unawares we might be able to grab Charlie and get out. I wish we had parked the
car closer to the driveway but hindsight is a wonderful thing. I open the
entrance door to the utility room and look out. I can hear voices from the
living room. I look round the kitchen and wonder what the price tag is on it.
My car was probably worth less. In fact three of my cars would probably be
worth less.
Next to a huge double doored US
style fridge there is another door. It is the only other way out save going
into the back garden or back into the living room. I grab the handle and then
place my ear against it. I can still hear voices but my guess is that the door
leads to the hall we came in through. I nod my head in the direction of the
door and George falls in behind me.
The door opens and I find I have
guessed wrong. I enter a well heeled dining room with a set of French doors to
a moonlit patio to my left and an archway leading towards the front of the
house on my right. I can see light from beyond the archway and if I am
now even half orientated, the room beyond the archway will exit onto the hall
and the front door.
The door to the garage must lie
in the next room. I circle a dining table that dominates the room and peer
round the archway architrave. The room beyond is a sitting room. A panelled
door sits opposite the door to the hall. The door to the garage? Unfortunately
the door to the hall is wide open and the voices from the living room sound
close.
Time for my back up plan. I take
out my mobile and make a call.
Tina is on the phone but she has
it cupped around her mouth and all I can hear is whispering. The conversation
seems to take an age before she hangs up and moves towards the door to the
hall.
She is listening to the voices
and I know what she is thinking. If we head for the door that leads to the
garage will we be spotted? To be frank I am well scared at the moment. This is
way past any comfort zone that could ever apply to me. My heart is racing and I
feel faint.
Tina has taken the lead on this
nonsense and that’s fine by me. At least it was until the reality of what we
are doing kicked in. Simon is not someone to mess with. He can be the life and
soul of a party; a veritable bon-viveur but he has a dark side and his almost
casual indifference to the way he just treated Charlie is testament to that
fact.
The presence of Karen just makes
the whole sorry affair a damn site worse. I’ve never taken to her and on my few
encounters she has come across as cold and hard - not the sort of credentials
one would expect from a Human Resources person.
Tina creeps forward and I fall in
behind. The voices from the living room are low and indistinct. This could mean
they are at the far end of the room - good for us - or they are just keeping
their voices low and are sitting next to the hall - bad for us. I try and
remember the layout of the living room. There was a large four seat couch in
the centre with two double seaters in attendance. If Simon or Karen are sitting
on the nearest double seater we have no chance of making the garage door.
Tina is at the door to the hall
and I hold a lot of breath as she peers round. Her head snaps back and she
joins her thumb and forefinger in the time honoured OK sign. She pushes the
door a little until it blocks the view of the door to the garage. I circle a
coffee table and try the door to the garage but keep my hand on the door to
prevent it clicking open. I push and the door swings in and I enter a short
hall. There is a door on my left and a door to the front. I’m sure the door to
the front is for the garage but I can’t figure the other door. Tina is right
behind me and I try the garage door and it opens.
Tina doesn’t follow me
immediately and I look round and catch her opening the other door. She closes
it and joins me in the garage. With the doors to the sitting room closed the
light is poor and Tina searches for the light switch, finds it and bathes us in
light.
The garage is sparse but plenty
big enough for two cars. There is what looks like blood on the floor and a
trail of it heads to the garage door and then back to where a large chest
freezer has been pulled over another door.
Tina moves to the freezer and
signals for me to give a hand and we lift it clear. Tina opens the door and
Charlie slumps out on to the floor.
We bend down and grab him but he
is dead weight. His hands are tied together with what looks like clothing line.
I bend down and undo the knots.
‘Charlie give us a hand,’ I
whisper.
Charlie lays still. His eyes are
closed. His trousers are stained around his crotch and he has two poorly
wrapped bandages around his thighs. I grab him under the arms and heave him
upright. Tina grabs his left arm and tries to support him but she hasn’t the
strength to add much support and I take most of the weight.
I turn him to face the garage
door and cross the concrete, dragging him every step of the way. Tina lets go
and looks for the garage door switch. I reach the door and Tina finds the
switch. She hits it and returns to the door before killing the over head light.
The electric motor is too loud and Charlie is too heavy. The whole thing is
wrong.
The door takes an aeon to open
but I can’t move until it is fully up as I am barely supporting Charlie and
bending to get under the door is impossible. The door clicks home and I summon
up what little reserves I have and carry Charlie out the door and onto the mono
block.
Then a storm arrives.
Behind me the garage light goes
on and this is followed by a shout. I put my head down and carry on. There is
maybe twenty feet of mono block left to cover before I hit the pavement. I
expect to be dragged to the ground any second.
Behind me there is an almighty
howl and the sound of metal hitting concrete. A second scream rings out and
more metal on concrete sounds.
I put my head down and grind on.
Charlie is mumbling but I wish he would stop it and start stumbling.
Ten feet to the pavement.
Behind me I can hear the sound of
the garage door closing. I look up and there is now no way I’m going to make
the van. My muscles are screaming at me to put Charlie down but my head is
telling me to push on. I hear a footstep behind and brace myself for the worst
and then Tina comes whirling up and throws Charlie’s arm over her shoulder.
The reduction in weight acts like
a can of Red Bull and we struggle to the van. I have no idea where Simon and
Karen are but I don’t care. The only thing that matters is getting Charlie in
the van and getting the hell out of here.
The garage door motor kicks back
into life and Tina looks back. She drops her end of Charlie and rushes to the
van and flings the back door open and returns. We heave Charlie in like a sack
of potatoes and then it is into the front seats.
My nerves are strung like piano
wire supporting an elephant and I can’t get the keys to go home. Tina shouts at
me to hurry up but this doesn’t help. The keys slide in and I wrench the engine
to life, select first and all but stall before gunning into the night.
Behind me a set of blue lights
are flashing.
‘Sodding late,’ says Tina.
I see the blue flashing lights
ahead and pull up sharp. Next to me Jim is dozing. I check the address I was
given and confirm that the police car is sitting outside the wee man’s house.
I pick reverse and slide back
onto the main road and park a hundred yards down the road. I get out, leaving
Jim asleep. He’s often more use when he is dead to the world. I walk back along
the main road trying to look as if I belong there and then turn into Simon’s
road. The police car is still standing there and two policemen are talking to
the wee man. He is looking animated.
I look around for some cover to
get closer but there’s none. The only option is to take to the back gardens if
I want to get any nearer without being seen. I walk up the broad driveway of a
two storey mansion made of red brick. It looks nineteen thirties in design and
the double front door is guarded by an oversize porch and some serious storm
doors.
The house shows no sign of life
and I skirt round to the back and enter a manicured gardener’s heaven. A lawn
stretches out that would substitute well for a game of football should Hampden
ever fall down. There is a pond of Olympic size proportions to my left and a
greenhouse like the Palace of Arts. This family have cash to burn.
I skirt the lawn - no point
leaving footprints in the dew and vault the fence into the next garden. This
one is a poor cousin to its neighbour but is the Chelsea Flower Show compared
to my window box back home.
Two more gardens and Simon’s
garden is next. I can’t see the police or the wee man but the blue flashing
light is strobing off the garage wall and I know they are still there.
I squeeze through a gap in the
hedge and, keeping tight to the wall, creep to the edge of the garage.
The police are leaving and
whatever conversation had been had has finished and Simon is on his way back
into the house. The police car vanishes and I step out from the shadows as the
wee man approaches.