Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) (36 page)

When Evelyn drove into the car park of the Sergeant’s tavern, Frank saw his old Range Rover sitting there, and glancing across, saw Duncan coming out.

‘Give me five minutes, I need to check something.’

Climbing out, Frank walked up to meet him.

‘Hi Duncan. So did the young lady get collected okay?’

‘Yes sir, she was met by two men, and there weren’t any problems.’

‘Thanks, I guess I owe you one.’

Taking the keys from the exhaust pipe, Frank opened the door and called over.

‘Evelyn, follow me, I’ve seen a place where I might be able to hide her for a while.’

Storming through the house in her cowgirl outfit, Lucinda climbed the stairs and let herself into the priest hole, and kicking the spiders away, glared at the printer when she saw another message had come through, and ripping it off, quickly decoded the blocks.

Attn DC.

Be aware - notification of imminent Immediate Action.

Target - George Montague, Ex SAS, Section Leader NSA Executive Section - retired.

Currently on Cardinal secondment.

Location unknown at this time.

Immediate Action required when location identified and confirmed.

Best wishes.

A.

Lucinda stared wide eyed at the instruction.

Another one? But why now for god’s sake.

Why now when she had that whore, Christiana, running around the countryside.

She felt the migraine spreading as bright lights began to shoot through her head, and throwing the cowboy hat across the room, began to punch her forehead.

Why now? Why can’t they leave me alone?

Wandering back to her bedroom, she fell into the misery of loneliness.

Her darling Chrissy had run away, but why? The other playmates were waiting for her, she could have made such nice friends and wouldn’t be lonely.

Sitting on the four poster bed, she gazed out through the sunlit bay window.

‘Oh Chrissy, come home. Please come home and let me kill you.’

Waking her brother, Martha saw his mouth was bleeding badly, some of his teeth were broken and his cracked jaw was hanging loose.

She smiled, and taking aim, kicked him till he clambered to his feet.

‘You’re to saddle her horse, and be quick ‘cos she don’t like you now.’

Arthur looked at her, and walking away, wiped the blood from his mouth.

Sighing at the waste of the cowgirl clothes, Lucinda tossed them onto the bed and walked to the bathroom to wash and scrub her face.

Sitting at the dressing table, she swept her hair up and back and held it in place with ebony clips, and taking care, made up her face and added over twenty years to her age.

Satisfied, she dressed in staid underwear and a skirt and jacket of sombre brown tweed, and slipping her feet into flat matronly shoes, chose a pair of thick horn rimmed glasses, and standing back, swore at the long mirror, because she now had the look of a frumpy, sixty year old school mistress, a woman as desirable as a fart on a cold and wet afternoon.

Walking to the wardrobe, she lifted down the heavy brown leather handbag and having carefully checked the contents, angrily slung the strap over her shoulder, and taking the hated, wide brimmed hat, put it on and held it in place with the razor sharp, six inch pin, and now she was ready for the target.

35

Martha cringed and stepped back when Lucinda walked through to the kitchen.

She’d seen those clothes before and remembered not to make any comment about them.

‘Oh, it’s you, ma’am. But it’s alright, Arthur’s saddling your horse right now.’

Lucinda frowned, and standing tall, looked at her as if she’d gone totally insane.

‘He’s saddling my frigging horse? But why? What the bloody hell for? Just look at me, you stupid old cow, do you really think I could ride a horse, dressed like this?’

‘No ma’am. Sorry, but I thought …’

‘Oh. So you
thought
, did you … But I’ve told you before, don’t bloody well think, you know you can’t do it properly.’

‘Yes ma’am. I mean, no ma’am. Or was it yes, I can’t remember.’

‘Oh for god’s sake, why can’t you understand anything, don’t I pay you enough?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Well there you are, you understand well enough when you want my money, don’t you?’

‘I do try, ma’am. I really do.’

‘Alright. Now go and tell your idiot brother to get the Morris Minor out of the garage, then take the Land Rover to the village and find as many of his layabout friends as he can and search for that bitch along all the lanes and roads between Sherston and Malmesbury. Now that isn’t too difficult, is it?’

‘No ma’am.’

‘And he can tell those useless drunken fools, that if they find her, I’ll pay each of them fifty pounds for the day, plus petrol, and there’ll be a bonus of one hundred pounds for the one who catches her. Now have you got that straight?’

‘Yes ma’am, I think so, but what am I to do?’

‘Well you’d better go with him and make sure they understand, and then come back here. I don’t trust that bitch and she might try doubling back for her car. So hide her purse, let down the tyres of her car and lock up the stables, and then stay in the house just in case. But Martha, if she does come back, don’t you dare kill her, and I mean that. Understood?’

‘Yes ma’am. But it is my turn, you promised.’

‘Martha, I am perfectly aware it’s your frigging turn, but you can’t have my Chrissy, although, if you’re good, I might let you play with her for a while, but that’s all. Okay?’

‘Yes ma’am, if you say so, but I haven’t had an American for ages.’

‘You lying, disgusting old cow, because if you bother to remember, you and Arthur had two each on holiday, which is precisely why they’d like to electrocute both of you, and if you also care to remember, it’s me who’s hiding you from extradition, now isn’t it?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Right, so if you’re good, I might let you have the next one, but Christiana is mine.’

Sammy drove to Malmesbury the quiet way, through the twisty lanes of fields and high hedges, and coming to the leafy junction leading to Ted’s cottage, stopped and watched the scene until they felt everything was normal.

Keeping the motor ticking over, Sammy laid the Czech automatic pistol on his lap while Ted got out and walked up the lane, and taking the garden path to the cottage next to his, made his way round to the back garden.

He listened for a while but there was no sound or movement, and walking over to the adjoining hedge, crawled through the badger gap and checked his garden.

Everything seemed normal, and looking through the cottage windows, unlocked the back door and checked everywhere. He didn’t expect to find anything, but old habits die hard.

Sammy saw him wave from the front door, and cruising the Rover up to the cottage, kept watch as Ted collected Tara’s suitcases, and together they escorted her inside.

‘Thanks Sammy, the drinks are on me later.’

He gave them a cheeky grin, ‘Make it soon then, and be sure to bring Tara.’

Blushing in the stare of his dark eyes, she felt a rush of regret when Sammy Paradise waved to her and strode away confidently down the garden path.

With Sammy gone, Ted filled the awkward moments by showing Tara around his quaint old country cottage, and the more she saw, the more she could hardly believe that someone could have all this beautiful, peaceful tranquillity just for their very own.

But Ted was feeling unsure as she gazed around and didn’t quite know what to say or do.

‘I picked some flowers. I hope you like them.’

‘Oh yes, they’re beautiful, and I love everything. I love your cottage, the flowers and the tranquillity, but most of all, Mr Willis, I love you because you helped me …’

In that surreal, nerve tingling moment, it all became clear, and now he understood why Lewis had been so determined to break all the rules to get her out, for within the intense sparkle of this young woman’s innocent gaze, there was a child. But how could that be?

Driving back from the sergeant’s tavern, Frank looked for the rundown farm he’d noticed before, and if he were lucky, this farmer down on his luck might take cash for a favour.

Following him through the lanes, Evelyn turned off the road and pulled in behind him when he stopped at a five-barred gate, and got out.

‘Is this it?’

‘Yeah. Well it’s worth a try.’

She looked around at the overgrown, jumbled yard, ‘It looks a bit run down.’

‘That’s just what I want, a busy farmer wouldn’t bother with me.’

Climbing over the padlocked gate, Frank hadn’t gone far before two collie dogs came running and barking round the corner of an old barn jammed full with muddy tractors and old rusty machinery.

As he came to a halt, the dogs danced and yelped around him, and then an old man of about seventy came plodding round the corner.

His face was parchment with a ruddy complexion, he was dressed in soiled clothes, had a cap perched on his head and in his gnarled hands was a shotgun.

Evelyn watched uneasily as the two men stood talking in the yard, and when Lewis pointed back to the Range Rover the old man rubbed his jaw and slung the shotgun over his shoulder.

Taking out a roll of money, Frank counted fifty into the old man’s cap, then hands were shaken and the two men walked up to Evelyn at the locked gate.

‘It’s all done, and my car will be safe enough till I need her.’

The old farmer opened the gate, and pointed, ‘Park it where I said, up in the big barn behind the cowshed, it’ll be safe there and no-one will see it.’

Saying goodbye to the farmer, Frank slid into the Pontiac and gave Evelyn directions through the lanes, and when they went past Angela’s security gates, he told her to stop.

‘Okay, I’ll bale out here, so just stick to our story and it should be fine.’

As Lucinda drove the immaculate old Morris Minor towards Stratford-upon-Avon, she remembered being surprised when the Minotaur’s instructions were to commit the travel directions to memory, and as it turned out, Thornley Manor was Station X-1, and not to be found on any map.

Letting the Morris speed on, Lucinda mused over the haste of this operation, and unusually for Mrs A, the immediate action directive had not mentioned the return of goods for internment, or even of any specified deliverance.

So if the body wasn’t required, and the method of deliverance had been left up to her, it made things a lot easier and she might even get some job satisfaction after all.

She hated killing targets from a distance, it seemed so impersonal, and quite probably from an etiquette point of view, very bad manners.

But if she could take her home, she could cleanse her there, and if Chrissy was found, they could all have a party.

Seeing the long avenue of tall trees, she swung left and drove down until the barrier, armed policeman and security gatehouse loomed ahead of her.

The policeman smiled when he saw the old Morris, and waved her into the lay-by.

This wasn’t the first time some little old lady had managed to get herself lost.

‘Can I help you, ma’am?’

Winding the window down, Lucinda gazed up to him through horn-rimmed glasses.

‘Yes, young man. I would like to speak to the senior officer on site.’

The guard smiled, ‘Well if it’s raffle tickets or the church bazaar, we can’t help you.’

‘Oh, it’s nothing as exciting as that. You see, I’m investigating the disappearance of Miss Tara Goodwin, and as you may know, she’s the head of Station Security.’

The officer stiffened, ‘I see. So may I see your ID.?’

Fumbling in her bag, Lucinda drew out her Cardinal ID and held it up to him.

The guard’s eyes widened, ‘Thank you ma’am, and your name, please.’

‘My name is Clemson. Dorothy Clemson.’

Frank walked up to Angela’s security lodge, and having checked in, was given a lift in the Land Rover to the cottage, and glancing back, saw a gamekeeper pick up the phone.

Taking the call, Angela listened, but frowned as she put the phone down.

‘Samantha, it appears that Mr Lewis has returned, but on foot, and it’s all very odd. But never mind that now, I have to leave quite soon, so let’s re-cap before he gets here.’

‘Okay, I wouldn’t mind going through it once more.’

‘Right then. Well as Montague has read that file, our top priority must be to find him, and as most of my ladies are out searching for him, I’ve no choice but to return to Oxford and run the hunt from there.’

‘So does that mean you’ll be staying there until it’s all done and dusted?’

‘Possibly, that’s why you’re here, and I’m beginning to wonder if Mr Lewis is playing a double game with me, and although I would love to grill him myself, I can’t afford the time right now, that’s why I’m relying on you, after all, you are the professional, in, how shall we say, using your charms to persuade others to give up their dark secrets.’

When Samantha stayed silent, Angela thought she seemed unsure of something.

‘Do you have a problem, Samantha?’

‘No, not really. But when you say, persuade, do you mean by diplomatic means?’

The hard reality of her question, suddenly pulled Angela’s emotions in all directions.

‘No, it does not mean you can use diplomatic.’

‘Oh … But I thought …’

‘Well never mind what you thought. No diplomatic. You’ll have to find another way.’

Getting out of the Land Rover, Frank wandered over to the old bridge, and lighting a cigarette, stared across the meadows to the distant copse of trees, his thoughts full of that beautiful old church with its dark secrets. Turning, he saw Angela striding down.

‘Frank, are you deliberately avoiding me?’

‘No, of course not. I was just getting some air, my head’s in a mess.’

She didn’t smile, ‘Oh really. But isn’t that to be expected from a guilty conscience.’

‘And what do you mean by that?’

‘What do I mean? Well let me see.’

Staring him hard in the eye, she ticked off her fingers.

‘First that cunning little tart, Tara Goodwin, was allowed to leave site and has vanished, then Mrs Carthwaite kindly swiped Montague into Leonardo to read that god-damned file, and then the CIC appeared from nowhere to put the fear of god into Sergeant Jenkins while Montague disappeared in a private ambulance. And while all this was going on, you, and rather conveniently, didn’t see or hear a fucking thing. That’s what I mean.’

Watching from the kitchen window, Samantha gasped out loud when Angela’s hand suddenly flew out of the air and smacked his face over his shoulder.

Shuddering, he knew there’d be a price to pay, so now his only chance was to attack.

‘Angela, you can believe whatever you like, but there’s nothing new in that, is there, you didn’t believe me the last time, or maybe you just get a kick out of knocking my frigging head off.’

Stepping round her, he headed off towards the cottage.

‘Wait. Don’t you dare walk away from me! Come back here this instant.’

Walking on a few more yards, he swung round, angry and defiant.

‘So what is it this time? Another kick in the head without bothering to ask questions?’

Backing away from the window, Samantha saw Angela begin to crumple.

‘But what was I supposed to think? Everything’s going wrong.’

‘Well that isn’t my fault. I am doing my best, in case you haven’t noticed.’

‘But you haven’t told me anything!’

‘Yeah, I suppose that’s true. But it has been busy, and quite difficult just lately.’

Angela felt her heart thumping, and wanted to kiss and hit him all at the same time.

‘So what the hell happened?’

‘Okay. Well after the deaths, the Goodwin girl was so strung up I was getting nowhere, but Evelyn was really good and offered to help. She thought if they had a girl’s night out she might relax and talk. But she didn’t. She took off in the night and vanished.’

‘Oh, I see. But why did you allow Montague to read that file?’