Nemesis (21 page)

“Shh!” hissed Bryn.

She rolled over, careful to keep a low profile while she worked out where she was. They were between a row of the cars and the exterior wall - out of sight of the gunman, although he wouldn’t have to move far to see them, which he certainly would if they tried to make it to the stairwell, which was still some distance away.

“This is hopeless,” she said. “It’s like shooting fish in a bloody barrel. How could he possibly miss us?”

“Have you got your phone?”

“No.” She gestured towards the small heap of her belongings in the centre of the car park. “Have you?”

“No signal underground,” he groaned. “Why the hell did you run
this
way?”

“I was running away from the gun! Why did you knock me over? I could have made it to the road.”

“Sure you could - with a bullet helping you on your way! What were you thinking?”

“Oh, no!” she moaned softly, watching the gunman rip open the lining of her bag. “That cost £800! There was a waiting list!”

Bryn rolled his eyes. “Give him the diary and maybe we can all go home.”

“You think he’d let us go?”

“Not a chance.”

The pedestrian entrance to the car park, with steps leading up to the road, was about thirty feet away. Was it worth making a run for it while the gunman was distracted? Probably not - but what choice did they have?

She was about to suggest this to Bryn, when she noticed a shadow move across the stairwell. Was it a car passing on the road, or was someone standing there?

Another movement and this time she caught a glimpse of a man, leaning back against the wall of the stairwell. He was wearing black, from his heavy boots to the baseball cap on his head. When he realised she’d seen him, he raised his hand and made a gesture towards the ground with his palm.

Beside her Bryn muttered, “Oh fuck!” before slapping her shoulder. “Get down -
now
!”

She closed her eyes as a disembodied voice echoed around the car park.

“Armed police!”

Startled, the gunman fired randomly towards the road. Natalie put her arms over her head and prayed. Was he
insane
? Did he seriously think he could outshoot the police?

Sure enough, when the police officer did retaliate it was in a short fast volley. After which, there was complete and utter silence.

It took a moment for her to dare to lift her head up. Looking beneath the car, she could see the gunman lying on the ground, his head surrounded by an ever-increasing pool of blood. Disturbingly his eyes remained open, staring directly at her.

The police emerged from the stairwell. There were two of them, both carrying assault rifles. One headed over to the dead man, kicking away his gun. The other officer stood over her, shouting at her to stay on the ground, to put her hands over her head where he could see them, and not to move. Beside her, Bryn did as he was told - in such a practised move she could not help wondering if he’d done it before.

She then had to suffer the indignity of being patted down, presumably to check for concealed weapons.

Finally she was allowed to retrieve her belongings from where they had been scattered across the car park. One of the police officers escorted her past the gunman. His colleague had already rolled him onto his back to ascertain he was dead, and was now tugging off the balaclava. She could not help stopping to watch. Was she finally going to see the face of the man who had killed her sister?

The balaclava was peeled back, smudging a thin trickle of blood from the man’s lips. Then her view was restricted, as the police officer straightened and muttered to the officer beside her.

“What the hell is going on? I thought this guy was supposed to be dead?”

She tried to move closer, to see who it was, but then Bryn was there, pulling her back. When she tried to push him away he held her tighter.

“No,” he said. “Don’t look. It’s not pretty.”

“I need to see who it is! That man killed my sister.”

34

Alicia’s computer was dead; there was no doubt about it. No amount of switching it off, and switching it on, and slapping it hard with the flat of her hand, made the slightest difference. The screen remained blank, apart from two words:

No
Signal

“At least we know the monitor works,” said Lexi cheerfully.

Alicia gave her a look. “What did you do? It was fine when I left.”

“I didn’t touch it! There was a coffee mug on the floor. I bent to pick it up, the screen went ‘ping’,
the
computer went ‘crack’ and that was it.
Dead.
I spent the last five minutes waiting for you and Mr Waters to stop yelling at each other, or I would have told you sooner.” She folded her arms and regarded her mother resentfully.

Alicia got down on her hands and knees to check the hard drive. There was brown liquid pooling on top and tricking down the back.

Coffee.

“Wonderful,” she said, getting back up. “That’s my entire family tree down the Swanny. Ten thousand names, fifteen years of research
- ”

“Yeah, yeah.
Heard it all before.”
Lexi held out something small, pink and plastic. “Two words: ‘
memory stick
’.”

Alicia threw her arms around her daughter. “You are a
genius
!”

“God knows where I get it from. Both my parents are idiots.”

Alicia turned the memory stick over in her hand. She’d probably lost the work she’d done that morning, but that was nothing compared to an entire database.

“Your computer is insured,” Lexi was saying, and for a moment sounded exactly like James. “You’ve still got the laptop. You don’t have a problem. It’s all in your head.”

Who was the parent here?

“It’s still very inconvenient.” Alicia tucked the precious memory stick into the pocket of her jeans. Now, did she have time to clean the coffee out of the carpet before that was wrecked too?

“Have you had lunch?” she asked her daughter.

“Yes, you made us sandwiches.” Lexi was back in the chair, swinging herself back and forth, crouched up like an elf on a toadstool.

“Do you have something to occupy yourself while I clean the carpet and arrange for the computer to be repaired?”

“An essay on Macbeth,” Lexi grimaced. “Something wicked this way comes, etc.”

“How about Will?”

“What about Will?”

“Where is he?”

“Dunno.
Bedroom?”

Alicia raised her eyes to the ceiling. Will’s bedroom was directly above them.

“He’s remarkably quiet
… ”

“Don’t knock it. Call out the engineer and get your computer fixed. Then we’ll all be able to relax.”

Alicia cringed. Was she really that self-obsessed?

“I’ve got to go upstairs to get the laptop,” she said. “I might as well check on Will while I’m there.”

Lexi shrugged. “Whatever. Do you want me to clean up? You know, when the hard drive’s dried out, the computer might still work?”

Alicia wouldn’t put it past Lexi to start dismantling the thing herself. “It would be a great help if you could get the coffee stain out of the carpet,” she said carefully, “but I think I’ll call out the engineer to be on the safe side.”

As Alicia climbed the stairs to the second floor it occurred to her that Lexi was right - the smart thing would be to leave Will playing whatever game was keeping him so engrossed. But she couldn’t resist opening his door very quietly and peering inside.

Will had the smallest bedroom, although he did not seem to mind. Despite Alicia’s best efforts to keep it tidy, it usually looked as though a bomb had gone off, and today was no exception. The curtains were drawn so the small mound hunched up in the centre of the room, which she had first taken to be her son, turned out to be his school bag once she’d switched on the light. With mounting panic, Alicia checked inside the wardrobe, under the bed and beneath the desk but Will was nowhere to be seen.

A quick search of the Old Vicarage revealed his coat and wellington boots were missing from the cloakroom.

“He must be in the garden,” said Alicia.

Lexi looked out the window, as though she expected to see Will standing on the other side. “But it’s raining!”

“Since when would that stop him?” Alicia collected her phone and keys as she passed the hall table. “Help me find him and I’ll order an Indian takeaway for dinner.”

Lexi sullenly pulled on her coat. “You know, this whole takeaway thing is starting to pall. When are we going to have some proper, healthy food?”

“Whenever you feel like cooking it,” Alicia retorted, and walked out the door. Yes, life would be easier if they had live-in staff, but she preferred her privacy, even if it meant she had to do everything herself.

The garden may have been large and bordering on neglected, but it soon became apparent that Will was not in it. Alicia searched the shrubbery at the front, where Will had built a den, and then at the back, where he had his tree house. Lexi trailed behind, muttering darkly, huddled into her black hooded coat like a petulant Death Eater. Finally losing patience, Alicia sent her up into the tree house.

“He’s not here,” Lexi announced from the top of the ladder. “This is such a waste of time. You know, I’m supposed to be having the afternoon off. Autumn’s gone to the cinema. Why don’t we ever go to the cinema?”

Alicia was only half-listening. “Where can he be? We’ve searched everywhere?”

Lexi pointed over the hedge to the churchyard. “How about in there?”

“He’s not allowed to go over there on his own.”

“Whatever. Can I go inside now?”

“No,” said Alicia grimly. “I’m going to search the graveyard and you’re coming with me.”

So she trekked all the way down the drive, along the road and through the lych-gate into the churchyard - where she found Lexi already waiting for her, having apparently forced her way through a gap in the hedge. Alicia decided to let it pass.

“There aren’t that many places to hide,” Lexi said, looking around. “It’s nothing but gravestones.”

“Think like a ten-year-old. We’ll start by the road and work our way towards the castle. If we’ve not found him by then, I’m calling the police.”

The graves were mostly Victorian. Many were less than waist height, although they were still wide enough for a smallish child to hide behind. Away from the main path the graveyard was very overgrown, with long yellow grass and brambles hiding the smaller monuments, making them easy to stumble over. As Alicia and Lexi passed the church, which was thankfully kept
locked,
the hiding places grew fewer. Alicia felt almost sick with panic. How could Will have vanished like this?

Lexi stood still and held up her hand. “I can hear something.”

It had stopped raining. In the distance was the hum of what passed for rush-hour traffic in Calahurst; closer still, the gurgling of rainwater surging through the church guttering.

Alicia pushed back the hood of her coat to hear more clearly and waited.
Interminably.

“I can’t hear anything.” She took out her phone. “I’m calling the police. He could have been abducted, anything!”

Lexi was still standing with her head on one side, listening intently. “No, I can definitely hear something … someone shouting
… ”
She swung around. “It’s coming from the castle.”

Alicia had already begun to dial 999. “It’s probably the workmen Granny hired to sort out the garden,” she said, but when she looked up, Lexi was darting between the gravestones to where the gate to the castle estate had swung open and was crashing into the wall with each gust of wind.

Why hadn’t she noticed it was open?

Alicia thrust her phone back into her pocket and set off after her daughter, but Lexi was already ahead of her, sprinting along the woodland path in the direction of the castle. As Alicia puffed her way to the top of the hill, leaving the graveyard far behind, she also heard the forlorn cries for help and doubled her efforts.

Emerging from the dark avenue of yew trees, Alicia caught her first glimpse of Will. He was sat at this end of the castle lawn, beneath the ruined walls of the chapel folly, with Lexi already beside him trying to calm him down. He had one leg bent awkwardly beneath him and was red-faced and tearful.
Had he been climbing the chapel walls and fallen?
Had he broken his leg? How long had he been out here on his own, in the rain and the cold?

“He’s fine,” Lexi said, before she could say a word. “He’s not hurt at all.”

“I’m stuck!” wailed Will.

“Stuck?” It took a moment for her to understand.

Will was sitting directly on top of the old well. While one leg was out in front of him, the other had become jammed through the metal grille covering it. His jeans were dirty and torn, where he had impatiently tried to free himself. She could see a nasty scratch on his exposed skin, little beads of blood already staining the denim. Her stomach turned over.

“My foot is
stuck
,” he repeated patiently, as though they could not understand his predicament. I can’t get it
out
.”

At least he was calmer now.

She ruffled his hair and gave him a hug. “Oh, Will, we were so worried about you!”

“Why would you even want to stick your foot in there?” asked his sister, distinctly unsympathetic.

“I didn’t do it
deliberately
. I was standing on it and dropping stones to see how deep it was and my foot slipped and I fell between the bars. And I can’t get my foot back in case my trainer falls off and I lose it forever.”

“Who cares about your stupid trainers? Pull your bloody foot out! I’m soaked through because of you.”

“No!” Will screwed his face up again. “I like my trainers! They’re cool!”

Alicia felt her stress levels rising. “Both of
you,
calm down,
please
!”

As they lapsed into indignant silence, she knelt on the grass, rested her hands on the metal gate and peered into the dark cavern beneath.

The well, like the chapel folly and the library, was all that remained of the original medieval castle. It was level with the ground and quite wide - over five feet across. There had once been a winch and pulley system to draw up the water and then, more recently, a pump. Now it was only a hole in the ground, with the metal gate bolted over the top to stop the unwary from falling into it. Although that had not had prevented Will from giving it his best shot. Thankfully it had been strong enough to bear his weight.

“OK,” she said to Will. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to ease your trainer off. You’re going to slowly pull your foot back through the hole and I’ll bring your trainer up separately. Do you understand?”

Her son regarded her anxiously. “I won’t lose my trainer?”

“No, of course not,” said Alicia, mentally crossing her fingers.

“OK, then.” He screwed up his eyes and braced himself, as though she was about to chop something off. “Go for it!”

Alicia slipped off her coat and
lay
it on the ground to kneel on. She placed one hand through the bars of the gate and gripped the bottom of Will’s trainer. With her other hand she undid his laces and loosened them - just as
Will
unexpectedly yanked his foot back through the gap and freed himself.

While he ran around the chapel like a mad thing, whooping with delight, totally oblivious to the fate of his precious trainer, she snatched at it with her other hand - and caught it.

Something small, pink and plastic slipped between the bars and disappeared into the darkness.

Alicia shrieked.

“What’s the matter?” asked Lexi.

Alicia could hardly form the words. “Remember how the only accessible copy of my family tree is backed up onto my memory stick? It’s fallen down the well
… ”

“Are you sure?” Lexi peered into the darkness. “I can’t see it.”

Will
attempted
to give her a hug. “I’m sorry, Mum.”

“So you should be,” snapped Lexi. “It’s
all your
fault.”

“It isn’t!” Will’s face crumpled in distress. “It isn’t, is it Mum?”

“That’s enough!” said Alicia firmly. “
I’ve
had enough.” Seizing the gate with both hands, she shook it violently.
“Bloody, bloody thing!”

The gate had been made from rods of iron, arranged in a grid and welded into a flat metal ring. On one side there was a hinge, on the other a large padlock. The padlock, although rusted, held firm. The iron ring, which had been set into a large stone beneath, moved. Encouraged, Alicia heaved at it again.

There was a metallic squeal and the gate flew momentarily out of the ground, before clanging back into position. Alicia stood up and this time was able to swing the gate up and over, letting it slam into the grass. It was extremely heavy. The padlock, the small iron ring and even the lump of stone it had been fixed to, still hung off the side.