Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1)

by Richard Harrington

  They hadn’t met by chance after all.

  There never had been a beautiful love affair.

  Chrissy had only been playing games with her.

  All she ever wanted was her secrets.

  Those precious secrets that kept her safe from Angela and that hideous mental prison.

  Oh Christiana, how could you, you horrible, howling, lying, cheating, fucking bitch.

  Sergeant Jenkins was a worried man, and now in an impossible situation.

  Lewis had told him to release the bodies to the NSA’s Section, but Mrs A had overruled his instruction and sent her own people, and now the Counter Intelligence Corp were here and all he had was a useless signature, and the three bodies had vanished into thin air.

  And just to make everything worse, he wasn’t even allowed to call Mrs A and tell her that Montague had breached security in Leonardo.

  Eddie Staverton checked his watch, and leaving his men to interrogate the sergeant, wandered out onto the veranda, and looking around the main gate area, caught the eye of the guard, but the man only coughed into his fist and looked away.

  Eddie smiled, 'yes, my son, you stay nervous, that’s a good boy.’

  Leaning against a pillar, he checked his watch one more time, and looking along the avenue, saw flashing blue lights coming up fast through the trees as the sleek shape of the private ambulance hurtled towards them along the avenue, its headlights flashing.

  Wandering over to the guard, Eddie leant down casually on the red and white barrier.

  ‘Looks like an emergency, you’d better let it go straight through.’

  ‘I can’t do that, sir, we’re looking for someone, so I’ll need the passenger details.’

  ‘Well you could get that from house security, and anyway, I don’t think your sergeant would want another death here, he’s in enough trouble already, but it’s up to you.’

  As the siren began to scream, sweat appeared on the guard’s face as he glanced round in a silent nervous question, but Eddie only shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Well you can stop it if you want to, but if the poor sod dies, that’s more paperwork, and you can kiss goodbye to your pension, along with Sergeant Jenkins.’

  The guard twitched, and stabbing the button, the ambulance hurtled under the barrier.

  ‘It should be alright, shouldn’t it, sir? What do you think?’

  ‘Well, son, if you really want my honest opinion, I think the security at this Station is fucking appalling, anyone could have been in that ambulance.’

  Tara sat in the bay window of the sergeant’s tavern, her fingers tying knots as she looked out over the sunlit parking area, her cases standing neatly beside her.

  Duncan watched from reception. He’d tried making conversation but her thoughts seemed miles away and wished there was something he could do, but through the open front door he heard the growl of a powerful engine and tyres crunching over the gravel, and looking back, saw she’d risen from her seat and was fumbling with her cases.

  Looking around from the high seat of the Range Rover, Ted glanced back to the road and watched as Sammy checked out the area.

  Stepping out onto the gravel, he locked the car and slipped the keys up the exhaust, and watching, saw Sammy drive the big old saloon up to the front door of the pub.

  Watching from the window, Duncan knew instinctively that these men were not from normal life, and everything about them was telling him they were professional hard men who knew exactly what they were doing.

  Casting a watchful gaze over them, he saw the big, older man had broad shoulders, a bull neck and fists the size of hams, while the younger man had a swarthy appearance, and although not as big as the older man, was muscular and athletic, but what seemed most striking about him was his mass of dark black windblown hair, and though his face was handsome, his mouth was cruel, even when he smiled.

  Duncan nodded to his thoughts.

  It would take a brave man or a fool to willingly go up against these two men.

  As Tara walked out with her cases, Sammy loaded them into the boot while Ted settled her in the back of the car. Jumping in, Sammy drove off across the gravel, and in less than two minutes, they’d arrived and driven away from the tavern.

  Lucinda watched as Martha hung by her hand, and as she slipped away unconscious, turned to gaze through the window and saw Arthur working on the compost heap, and as her dark thoughts began to form a plan, walked out into the fresh air.

  ‘Arthur, it seems quite a while since we’ve had any fun, so it might be nice if we introduced a new playmate to the hole.’

  Staring, he began to chuckle, his breath disgusting, ‘Another one?’

  ‘Yes. And can you guess who the little playmate will be?’

  He shook his head, ‘No ma’am, I can’t think of no-one.’

  ‘You can’t? Well let me help you. She’s slim, quite tall and very pretty, she has wonderful long blonde hair and just the kind of boobs you like, she’s enormous, and that’s not all because she has the most gorgeous American accent. So can you guess who?’

  Arthur looked unsure, ‘Are you sayin’ it’s Miss Chrissy? Is she goin’ in there?’

  Lucinda smiled, ‘Yes Arthur, well done, Christiana is going into the hole, and just think of all the fun we’ll have with her first, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, she has the most adorable body and you can do anything you like with her, anything at all, and you can have her right now if you want to, have her in my bed, you’d like that, wouldn’t you.’

  Arthur grunted, his sweaty face breaking out in a leery smile, ‘…Yeah, I sure would.’

  ‘Good, now give me at least five minutes, then fetch her from the summerhouse and bring her up to my bedroom, and Arthur, when we start, I want you to enjoy yourself, so do everything with her. Understood?’

  He nodded, his smile becoming vicious, and as he walked away, Lucinda began to run, because this was going to be the best party ever, and she just couldn’t wait to film it.

  Running to the terrace, she dashed through the French windows and snatched up the camcorder, and quickly making her way to the priest hole, took the can of Mace, and rushing to her bedroom, smiled … Oh lord, this was just so incredibly exciting!

  Arthur stepped onto the hidden path, and walking silently along to the summerhouse, peered through the window, but Christiana was nowhere to be seen.

  Looking up from the rose garden, Christiana saw Arthur peering through the window, and moving silently up behind him, whispered in his ear.

  ‘And what the hell are you doing, you dirty old man.’

  Arthur jumped, ‘Ugh.’

  She looked him hard in the eyes, ‘Well? So what are you up to?’

  He took a step back, ‘It’s ma’am, she wants to see you, I’m to take you to her.’

  She puzzled at his choice of words, ‘Take me?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what she said.’

  ‘Arthur, I’m a big girl now, no-one takes me anywhere.’

  ‘But that’s what she said, we’ve both got to go to her bedroom.’

  Memories suddenly came swirling back of that disgusting scene in Lucinda’s bedroom.

  ‘Her bedroom? Both of us?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Oh really. So why didn’t she send Martha to find me, she usually does.’

  ‘I don’t know, maybe she’s busy cooking.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe. Well let’s go and see if you’re telling the truth.’

  Walking up to the house, alarm bells started to ring, because although Lucinda was crazy she’d never tried giving her orders before, and certainly not through this hideous old man, so something was different, things had changed, she could feel it, but what did it mean?

  As Arthur marched on she realised the whole atmosphere had changed, but why, and when the old house came into view, a dark thought began to wriggle through her mind, remembering that it was only yesterday she’d been inside Lucinda’s revolting priest hole.

  Thinking ba
ck through every tiny detail, she remembered Martha opening the door, then the darkness, that smell and the spiders, and having found the light switch she’d climbed the stairs and found the hi-tech office with the pad and alphabet, and having copied them she’d waited impatiently for Martha, and when the door had been pulled open, she’d put out the light and raced down the stairs … But wait, something was missing …

  Oh my god, the photocopier, she couldn’t remember switching it off.

  With her thoughts jumping, she followed Arthur along the crazy paving pathway, but when they came to the kitchen there wasn’t a sound from within.

  Standing back, he waved her through, but she hesitated.

  She had a lousy feeling about this, and wondered if she could be walking into bad news.

  Arthur brushed against her bottom, ‘Well, go on then.’

  ‘Alright, back off.’

  Pushing the door open, she walked inside, but the kitchen seemed empty, then Arthur rubbed his crotch against her, ‘Up you go then. Up to the bedroom.’

  Turning, she saw the glint in his eyes, ‘So what’s the rush?’

  He looked down to her breasts, ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  In that moment she knew it had all gone wrong, but a groan came from the far end of the kitchen, and peering round the edge of the door, saw Martha laying slumped in the corner, but her left arm was pointing straight up, and held there by the huge butcher’s knife.

  ‘Jesus Christ …’

  Walking quickly across, she took firm hold of the handle, and yanking out the blade, swung round to Arthur, ‘Well don’t just stand there, do something.’

  ‘She’ll be okay, it’s not the first time. So come on, get upstairs.’

  Looking away in disgust, she began wrapping a clean towel around Martha’s hand.

  ‘You sure are some kind of a bastard, she’s your sister for god’s sake.’

  Martha suddenly came more awake, and scrabbling to her feet, held her hand, and as she crouched over in pain, glared up venomously into Christiana’s eyes.

  ‘It’s not his fault, you stupid bitch, it’s yours ‘cos you went snooping in the hole, and now my lady knows of it, she don’t love you no more, not even one tiny little bit, so what do you think of that then, little miss big tits?’

  Christiana stood back on her heels, her thoughts racing wildly.

  Everything had seemed normal just an hour ago, so is that how long Lucinda might have known about the priest hole? And now, having had an hour to think and make her plans, she’d sent the revolting Arthur to bring her up to her bedroom.

  No way, my fine assassin, the time to get the hell out of here had just arrived.

  But the keys for her car were in her purse, up in the bedroom, and as she wouldn’t get far on foot, she would have to immobilise Arthur and deal with Lucinda when she got there.

  ‘Alright. Come on. Let’s go.’

  Climbing the long stairs, she’d decided to take Arthur out on the landing, but she felt his hand on her bottom, and when his fingers slid between her legs, it was just too much.

  Without thinking of it she was back in the Dojo where she’d spent so many happy years perfecting her beloved Shotokan Karate.

  She swung round, and in a split second, delivered to him the destruction of Enpi Uchi.

  The elbow strike up under his chin had been delivered with the perfection and focus of perfect kime, the blow, the focus, the timing and the target all coming together in one pure shattering moment of the most peaceful and controlled violence.

  Arthur’s head shot up with the force of the blow, his mouth crashing shut to break his teeth and jaw, and falling back, he tumbled unconscious into Martha, and the two of them rolled in a tangle all the way down the long staircase.

  Christiana cursed, and watching them fall down the stairs, heard the door to Lucinda’s bedroom being snatched open, and there she was.

  ‘Hello bitch. So you’ve come to see me have you? Come for more diaries?’

  Christiana stared wide eyed, the sight of her totally bizarre as she stood dressed as a sexy version of a cowgirl, with long shiny black boots and jangling spurs, then white stockings, suspenders and tiny white knickers, around her hips a beautiful black leather gun belt with a pearl handled Colt .45 in the holster, and a tiny white laced bra that lifted her full breasts in a balcony platform, and a chic, creamy white cowboy hat that allowed her cascading coal black hair to fall and swirl in glistening waves around her softly tanned shoulders.

  Christiana watched as she moved along the landing towards her, the tall boots clicking, the spurs jangling, hips swinging, her smile beguiling, but it was her intense dark eyes that told the story as they held the uncaring, dull cold shine of death.

  Coming closer, Lucinda raised the can of Mace in her left hand, and when Christiana recognised the markings, she began to back away down the stairs, but Lucinda moved quickly and ran with the small can held outstretched towards her.

  Reacting without thinking, Christiana pulled her T shirt up to cover her nose and mouth, and turning, ran back down the stairs with Lucinda screaming in a fury. Glancing back, Christiana saw her draw the Colt .45, and when she fired, there came a thunderous sound as the banister, just inches from her hand, flew into shards of splintered wood.

  Leaping over Arthur’s body, she saw Martha rush to the kitchen, and as the thundering sound came again, a beautiful vase next to her head, suddenly exploded in a million fragments. Dashing to the kitchen, she saw Martha blocking the doorway to the gardens.

  Skidding to a halt, she looked more closely, and saw in her right hand, the same knife that had impaled her to the worktop, and knew this crazy woman would use it.

  Slamming the hall door shut, she grabbed a chair and jammed the high back under the handle, and turning back to Martha, moved from one foot to the other and let her hands hang loose in a shaking dance.

  Lucinda pounded on the door as Christiana advanced towards Martha, and in a lightning strike, delivered yoko geri keage, the side snap kick to Martha, full across the throat, the force lifting her up and out through the door.

  Standing back, Lucinda fired the heavy revolver through the kitchen door until every chamber was empty, but Christiana was already racing headlong along the pathway, and crossing the courtyard, dashed past the Ferrari, and with her chest bursting, ran for the cover of the woods, but although now well clear of the farm, which way should she run?

  34

  Her breakfast finished, Felicity sat quietly in thought at the kitchen table, and as usual, she’d eaten alone.

  Absentmindedly sipping her coffee, she heard the front door being roughly closed as Dmitri went off wandering for the day.

  Looking out through the window to the late summer flowers, she had the strangest feeling she’d lost control of everything around her, but then again, if she were honest, didn’t she know why?

  Of course she did, it was the arrival of that bitch, the American agent from the CIA.

  She’d rekindled an old flame within him and he was now openly defying her with a new confidence, as if a purpose had entered his life.

  As she wondered how she might bring everything back under control, she heard the cheery whistle of the postman as he walked to the front door, and going through to the hallway, saw a small white envelope being pushed through the flap of the letterbox.

  She watched through cold eyes as it fell silently to the floor, and it was strange, she already knew who it would be addressed to.

  Walking up the hall, she stooped forward and snatched up the envelope, but stood quietly in thought before returning to the kitchen, and when she looked, all her fears came true.

  The delicate hand of a woman had indeed addressed the letter, her eyes narrowing as she thought of that bulging red T shirt, and those clinging, tight yellow leggings, but although the envelope was addressed to Dmitri, it was thin and carried no letter, and holding it up to the light, all she saw inside was just one word. VALKERIE.

&nb
sp; When the Counter Intelligence Corps finally left Thornley Manor, Sergeant Jenkins felt ten years older, and now he had to tell Mrs A, that over two hours ago, Montague had read a top secret file and then disappeared.

  Angela picked up the red phone, and having listened in silence, slammed it down.

  Samantha, winced, ‘Problem, ma’am?’

  Angela swung round, ‘Yes, and that could be the understatement of the year, because I’ve just been informed, that over two hours ago, that bastard Montague went into Leonardo, read that damned file and vanished.’

  Samantha stayed silent.

  ‘And Jenkins couldn’t tell me because he was under arrest by the CIC, and that was probably arranged by Montague. So it’s pretty obvious he’s been scheming against me all the time, and probably working for that other bastard, Glenndenning.’

  Samantha, knew, that right now, whatever she said would be jumped on by Angela.

  ‘So call in every operative that’s not on essential duties and circulate Montague’s file, with his address, habits, contacts, relationships and anything else you can think of.’

  Samantha opened her notebook, ‘Yes ma’am, and do we alert the authorities?’

  Angela glared at her, ‘Samantha, this is not the time to go stupid on me.’

  ‘No ma’am. I was only thinking of the channel crossings and airports.’

  ‘Oh yes, I see what you mean. But leave that to me, I don’t want the plod or the spook agencies involved, so I’ll arrange something with the anti-terrorist squad.’

  ‘Okay. Anything else?’

  ‘Yes, find Frank Lewis and tell him to get back here, he’s got a lot of explaining to do.’

  ‘Right. So is that it?’

  ‘No. Alert DC to Montague and say she’ll have immediate action on confirmation, then find out who the hell swiped him into Leonardo.’

  Samantha wrote it all down, her thoughts churning.

  There had always been rumours that Angela’s private assassin was the stuff of nightmares, and now she’d just confirmed that her angel of death was a woman.