The Elephant Tree (26 page)

A small pool of blood and Jeff’s broken glasses marked the spot on the frosted driveway where Scott had seen him go down. He broke into a run and as he got closer saw what appeared to be drag marks leading away and up towards the house. Scott pulled out the revolver and held it unsteadily in both hands. He used the cluster of eucalyptus bushes for cover, cocked the gun the way Jeff had insisted on showing him one afternoon, and stepped out allowing the doorway to come into view. Jeff lay unmoving on the stairs. Scott dropped the gun and ran blindly to him, forgetting about the possible danger that might lie within the house.

Blood was matted down the front of Jeff’s sweater and had stained his beard red. After seeing what they had done to Twinkle that night in the flat, Scott’s heart twisted in his chest as he approached his friend, already fearing the worst.

‘Jeff,’ Scott whispered as he knelt down beside him.

A low gurgling sound came from Jeff and one eyelid flickered open.

‘Shhcott,’ he lisped through swollen lips that were caked with blood, and although they hadn’t moved much Scott had seen gaps where teeth used to be.

‘Take it easy,’ Scott said and glanced up to the living room window beside them. The front door frame was splintered and cracked down one side where the door had been kicked inwards from their forced entry. ‘Are there any inside?’ he asked Jeff, without looking away from the window.

‘No,’ Jeff answered and winced, ‘all three left in the van. Angela?’

‘She’s OK, she’s waiting for us down at the village. I told her I’d meet her there after I made sure you were OK. How bad are you hurt, do you think you can get up?’

Jeff held out a hand for Scott to take hold of and help him to his feet. Gripping the hand, and with an arm secured around Jeff’s back to support him, he slowly levered him into a kneeling, and then almost standing, position. Jeff leaned heavily against the wall of the house, his breath coming in short painful bursts from the exertion. The left side of his face was badly swollen and the eye closed. The beginning of a bruise formed beneath the damaged flesh. Scott immediately thought back to Stephanie lying in the hospital bed and wondered for the first time if the events were somehow linked. Jeff’s right hand clutched protectively against the left hand side of his ribcage.

‘Any broken?’ Scott asked. Jeff nodded confirmation. ‘Anything else?’

‘I don’t think so. Get the keys for my car from inside, we should leave.’

Scott pushed open what was left of the ruined door and walked through to the kitchen where Jeff kept his keys. The house was in utter disarray. Drawers had their contents tipped out, anything that had been on a surface looked to have been hurled at the walls in wanton destruction. Whether they had been looking for anything Scott didn’t know, but the message they’d left behind was clear, they weren’t finished with him yet. Scott found the keys by sifting through the mess of broken crockery and food that lay across the kitchen floor and returned out front to where Jeff still stood slumped against the wall.

‘I’ve got the keys,’ Scott said bouncing them in the palm of his hand.

‘Any sign of the dog?’

Scott faltered, he’d forgotten all about Boris during the chaos of the last hour.

‘He ran out back with me and Angela but not to the workshop. He must’ve gone off into the woods.’

‘Yeah, probably. He’ll be back.’

‘He might not be the only one though, let’s go.’

Scott helped Jeff down the steps and picked up the gun he’d dropped earlier before they slowly walked around the house to Jeff’s Toyota. He opened a rear door and did his best to manoeuvre Jeff onto the back seat. Jeff grunted at each push or pull from Scott to help him along, and was visibly pained even from the effort of breathing; finally managing to find a position that would make travelling in the car at least bearable. Scott climbed in front and started the engine.

The drive down to Bloody Bush was frustratingly drawn out. The condition of the road surface meant Scott had to take every care to avoid any pot holes that caused the pain from Jeff’s ribs to flare. Even on relatively smooth patches, any gentle movement of the vehicle would register as a grimace across his face. Scott kept checking but his phone was still without signal. Even travelling on her damaged ankle, Angela should have reached the village and would be waiting for them inside The Boar, or at Maurice’s store. Scott was eager to let her know that Jeff was OK and that they were on their way. By now she’d be frantic with worry.

They rounded the last curve, the end of the driveway now almost in sight. Once they reached smoother road surface Scott knew he would be able to pick up speed. The ivy clad archway lay in front of them now but something hung suspended in the centre. Scott kept going, at first unsure exactly what he was looking at. It was Jeff who first broke the silence.

‘Oh no – no, they didn’t.’

Scott pulled up and got out of the car. He walked slowly towards the still twitching corpse of Boris, swinging by what looked to be electrical cable that had been looped around his neck in a makeshift noose and fastened onto the wooden trellis above. Supporting the dog’s weight as best he could, Scott raised him up, slackening the tightness of the cable around his neck, allowing Scott to loosen it and slip it back over the dog’s head.

He carried the dead animal to the side of the road and lay him carefully down behind a tree. Scott ran a hand over his face, wiping away tears. There was nothing he could do for Boris now. He silently vowed to come back and give him a proper burial, and make them pay for what they’d done.

‘They must’ve seen him after me and Angela managed to escape into the cave,’ Scott said, getting back into the car, and started the engine.

‘They’re animals.’ Jeff muttered under his breath.

They drove down to the village in silence. Making a turn, Scott caught sight of his own dirt streaked reflection in the mirror. The look in his eyes was two parts rage and three parts hatred. He tried to rationalise that it was just a dog, that Twinkle had already been killed by the bastards, but Twinkle had been an idiot. He hadn’t deserved to die, of course not, but at least he’d had a say in it. They’d killed Boris just for the hell of it, a passing thought as they drove off. How’d you like that Scott, how’s that sit with you? He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were as white as the snow at the side of the road.

Scott pulled into a parking space outside of the Post Office and checked his phone. He had a signal. A call to Angela’s phone went straight to voice mail. If she was here in the village then surely her phone would be turned on and she would be able to receive calls. He ran over to the Black Boar and spotted his own car at the far corner of the parking lot; Maurice had come through for him. The few staff inside were preparing for what would pass for the lunch rush in a place this remote. Scott asked around but no-one had seen Angela. There had been three men in from the city earlier, he was told by a bored barmaid with a nose stud and a southern accent, but Angela hadn’t been in there for over a week. Scott crossed back over to the Post Office and went in to speak to Maurice.

‘Your friends catch up with you then?’ Maurice asked him, glancing up from the newspaper he had spread out in front of him.

Scott stopped in his approach to the counter. ‘You told those guys we were up at Jeff’s?’

‘You’re welcome,’ Maurice said, and grinned like he’d just done Scott another favour. ‘Said they happened by and noticed your car parked,’ he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the pub. ‘Lucky I managed to get it towed last night or they wouldn’t have seen it here this morning.’

Scott knew Maurice thought he’d done him a good turn, but keeping the bitterness out of his voice when he asked if Angela had been by took more effort than he felt he could muster.

‘Yeah, she was in not long ago, asking about you actually.’ Maurice looked up directly at Scott. ‘She seemed kind of jittery, not at all like she normally is. Put it down to her sore foot myself.’

‘So where is she now?’ Scott asked, impatience bubbling up in him like acid indigestion.

‘Like I said she was jittery, wouldn’t stay in one spot for more than a minute, I offered her a chair but she said no. In and out she was, the damn store freezing with her letting all my warm air out. Anyway, I saw your friends pass by in that van and she never came back in so I suppose she just got a ride with them.’

Scott felt as if the remaining strings that were holding him up had just been cut. He slumped against a shelf, knocking some cans of soup to the floor where they rolled tiredly across the linoleum.

‘Steady on,’ Maurice said, standing up straight, but the sudden exertion brought on a coughing fit and he sat back down and attempted to catch his breath. ‘They weren’t your friends were they?’ he asked, after spitting into his container behind the counter.

‘No. They weren’t my friends.’

Maurice nodded solemnly, although unaware of the severity of the situation.

Scott walked back out to the car. The tinkling bell on the shop door danced as it snapped closed behind him.

Scott didn’t know what their next step should be. He’d regaled what he’d heard from Maurice but as he was driving a lot faster now, Jeff was struggling to force out more than an odd word every now and then, most of his attention focused on breathing as the car lurched and dipped along the winding country lanes.

One thing Scott did know was that Angela’s dad must be told. And he had to do it in person.

S
cott knocked on the door to Putty’s flat and Keep opened it wide once he’d recognised Scott’s voice. A glance past him both up and down the corridor showed that his presence without Angela was unexpected.

Scott made his way into the flat, hoping there would be no occupants other than himself, Keep and Putty. When he entered the living room he discovered at least something was going his way.

‘Where’s Angela?’ Putty asked, a pungent joint smouldering between his fingers.

‘Something really bad has happened,’ Scott said sitting down on the old couch, resting his forearms on his knees and leaning towards Putty.

Keep came back into the room and stood silently in the doorway.

‘What? What’s happened Scott, where’s Angela?’ he asked, more insistently, his voice taking on a frantic edge, with worry that only a parent can understand.

Scott covered the main points as quickly as he could. He sketched an outline of Jeff’s operation, the previous involvement with McBlane and the incident after the van turned up that morning and Jeff’s assault.

Once Scott reached the end with Angela being taken away in the van, Putty rose out of his chair and walked to the wall behind him. In a single movement his right fist plunged straight through the plaster as deep as his wrist. Scott could understand her father’s anger. He’d felt like punching things himself, he still did. But keeping control of his emotions was the only thing Scott could think of right now, that might see them get through this with Angela back home safely.

Putty took hold of a broken chunk of plaster and tore it away from the hole he’d made in the wall. He tore away another piece, the hole he’d made now widening, revealing some kind of partition which became more visible as further handfuls were torn free. Through the cloud of plaster dust that hung around him Putty reached inside the hole and pulled out a shotgun and a pistol wrapped in sealed plastic bags; bullets and shotgun shells lay in the bottom like dust bunnies under a bed.

Both Scott and Keep watched as he tore open the plastic and began inspecting the weapons.

‘Where do we find them?’ Putty asked flatly without looking up.

‘I don’t know where they’ll be, but once they decide what it is they want surely they’ll be in touch. You can’t go wandering the streets carrying them. You won’t be any use to Angela from the inside of a cell. It’s shit, but for now we just have to wait,’ Scott said. His frustration had been equal to that now shown by Putty and until the words had come from his mouth, Scott had been at a loss as to their next move. But now he’d said them, it felt right. Something Jack had said about some business deal he was about to push through years ago came back to him. Consider and then act, don’t react. A worthy opponent will calculate his move to entice a response from you. Make your own play. The tactical way Jack spoke about such things always seemed as if he were discussing a game of chess. No matter how important the stakes were, he maintained a calm detachment that had annoyed Scott back then, seeming cold and almost robotic in his thinking. But right now he’d take cold and robotic in a second if it meant getting Angela away from McBlane and back safe with him. He realised in the absence of them having a play to make, they should just wait.

‘Where’s Jeff now, what does he think?’ Putty asked, looking up from the guns. His expression betrayed agitation and fear, rather than the hate and vengeance that had driven him a few moments earlier.

‘He’s still in the car downstairs. He really needs to get checked over at the hospital, his ribs are in a bad way and fuck knows what else might be wrong internally.’

‘Right, for now we’ll wait here,’ he said, looking at Scott. ‘Keep, you take Jeff to the hospital and make sure he gets fixed up, then bring him back here. Keep your phone switched on. If we hear anything I’ll call you.’

Keep nodded, took the car keys from Scott and left the flat.

* * *

It was around five hours later that Keep arrived back. He helped Jeff up the stairs and into the flat. Scott had made something to eat and dozed in their absence but Putty had only paced the floor and repeatedly cleaned both of the guns.

‘He’ll be OK the doctor said,’ Keep informed them, as he helped lower Jeff down onto the couch.

‘We waited for an X-ray. The doctor advised it with the injury being around the lower ribs, but it came back clear. No internal damage so they strapped them up and gave me a bunch of pain killers. Still no call then, I take it?’ Jeff asked, and looked from Putty to Scott and back again.

Scott shook his head.