A New Dawn Rising

by Michael Joseph

'People change,' said Sam. 'Especially when money is involved.'

  Taylor grunted. Sam could see he wasn't convinced.

  They passed a road sign declaring they were leaving the district of Bursleigh. As they headed out into remote countryside, Sam could see nothing but darkness ahead of him. Behind were the headlights of the Freelander, faithfully keeping its distance.

  'We're about five minutes away,' said Taylor. 'It's a big farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. But, remember, we could be coming out here for nothing. I don't know if Starkey still owns the place.'

  The middle of nowhere sounded promising to Sam. Lucy had told him she couldn't hear any noise where she was being held. If she was there, then Sam was going to have to play things by ear. That didn't worry him particularly. He was used to working like that. What did concern him were the unknown factors. The one sat next to him in the car, currently chatting away like an excited schoolboy on a day trip, and whoever was in the vehicle behind.

  'I'm looking forward to seeing the look on Starkey's face when we-'

  'Martyn, I want you to stay out of it,' said Sam. 'If you want to see justice done, then lie low and I'll shout if I need help.'

  When Sam got no reply, he glanced across at his passenger. Taylor was almost sulking.

  'Do you understand?' said Sam. 'We don't know what we're going to find there and I don't want to put Lucy at any risk by making a rash move.'

  Taylor shrugged.

  'Okay, my friend,' he answered, giving Sam a mock salute. 'If that's the way you want it. So, who's this Lucy then? She must mean a lot-'

  'None of your business,' Sam told him bluntly. 'Anyway, you're going to have problems of your own when you return home. I wouldn't have thought your mates are going to be too happy with you jumping in a car with me. Not after I laid two of them out.'

  Taylor laughed.

  'They do as I tell them,' he told Sam matter-of-factly.

  Sam suddenly felt uncomfortable. He could find nothing at all to like about Martyn Taylor. Not his methods. His way of life. Nothing.

  Sam sighed and pushed his foot down even harder on the accelerator.

  Chapter 68

  Sam's phone burst into life.

  They both jumped.

  'We need to pull over here, anyway,' said Taylor. 'The house is only up the road.'

  Sam drove on a few more yards before parking in front of a metal gate and switching his lights off. Almost immediately, the headlights on the vehicle behind also went off. Sam reached inside his jacket and pulled out the ringing phone.

  It was Richie calling him back.

  'Sam, I've found something.'

  'What have you got for me, mate?'

  'The bloke you were asking about,' said Richie. 'I've found two properties listed in his name.'

  'That was quick,' replied Sam. 'Go on...'

  He listened as Richie reeled off the first address to him. Sam recognised the street name. It was on the other side of Bursleigh.

  'Okay,' he said. 'And the other one?'

  'It just says Middlemarch Farm, near Bursleigh. There isn't a number.'

  Middlemarch Farm. That's where they were heading.

  'That's the one,' said Sam quietly into the phone. 'We're on the right track.'

  'What do you mean, bud?' asked Richie. 'You're not going after this fella alone, are you?'

  'Look, I've gotta get off, mate,' replied Sam hurriedly. 'I appreciate-'

  'You are, aren't you?' butted in Richie. 'Even though you're in the clear?'

  Sam didn't have time to justify himself. Nor did he wish to.

  'Trust me, mate,' he said. 'I don't want to be doing this but needs must.'

  Sam sensed Richie hesitate. They had worked on so many undercover operations together over the years. Both men knew the score. Things didn't always go to plan.

  'Okay, bud,' sighed Richie. 'But you're going to have to be careful with this guy. I've looked him up. He had plenty of form years ago. Used to hang around with a local villain called Martyn-'

  'Bloody hell, mate,' said Sam quickly. 'It's getting cold out here. I'm gonna have to go.'

  Sam held his breath, hoping Richie still remembered one of the little nuances they had developed during their partnership. Talking randomly about the weather basically meant shut up because you're dropping me in it.

  Thankfully, Richie had a good memory.

  'It's that time of the year,' he told Sam, playing along. 'Okay, I'll let you go. But, Sam?'

  'Yes, mate?'

  'Whatever you're doing...watch yourself.'

  Sam rang off and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

  'Well, at least we know Starkey still owns the farmhouse,' he said to Taylor. 'I just hope this is where he's lying low.'

  Martyn Taylor was studying Sam with great interest.

  'Very impressive, I must say, ' he said, raising an eyebrow. 'Useful contacts. Friends with weapons. Are you sure you're not a copper?'

  Sam shook his head. Taylor's look had turned to one of suspicion. Sam couldn't care less. He didn't trust Martyn Taylor any more than Taylor trusted him.

  Sam had a feeling he was going to need eyes in the back of his head tonight.

  Chapter 69

  Sam could see three cars parked outside the farmhouse. Squinting through the darkness, he recognised Molly's Range Rover immediately. Next to it was a light-coloured car with a dark door on the driver's side. That would be Dave Starkey's. Sam had more trouble with the third vehicle. An expensive looking sports car that Sam had definitely laid eyes on recently.

  Outside the office block. It had been parked there earlier in the evening.

  Sam cursed quietly. Seymour had hoodwinked him back at the office after all. He was in on this as well. He must have raced out here after fleeing his office, desperate to warn Starkey that Sam was on to him. Sam supposed it made sense. Molly and Starkey needed someone to organise the substantial windfall that would be coming their way from Carl's estate. Yet, Sam had thought better of Bill Seymour. His instinct had told him the accountant was a decent man. Another character he had misjudged.

  Sam heard a noise behind him. He turned around to see who was there.

  'I thought I told you to stay in the car,' he whispered angrily.

  Martyn Taylor hunched down next to Sam. Even in the gloom, a wide grin was visible on his face.

  'We agreed to leave the exciting stuff to you,' he said. 'We didn't say anything about watching the fun from a distance.'

  Sam rolled his eyes. It was bad enough knowing the occupants of the Freelander could be roaming about right now without having this idiot doing the same.

  'This isn't a bloody game, you know!' he hissed. 'Right, stay here. I'm going to have a scout round.'

  ***

  Sam couldn't see a light on anywhere in the farmhouse. He had done a circuit of the building while keeping to the shadows. It was a sprawling property, with a barn and outhouses attached to the main house. Sam had no doubt it had once been the hub of a thriving working farm. Not anymore. There wasn't an animal or piece of machinery in sight.

  Gazing at the front of the house, he wasn't fooled by the deathly silence and lack of lights. They were in there, Sam was sure of that. And Lucy was in there with them. The problem for Sam was how to get in. Knocking on the door and rushing whoever answered was no good. He couldn't afford to alarm them in any way. Not while they were holding Lucy. No, he needed to think of another way. One that would enable him to keep the element of surprise.

  It would have to be the kitchen window at the back.

  Sam crept back the way he had come until he reached the back garden. Keeping low, he dashed across the lawn and ducked underneath the kitchen window. Slowly, he withdrew a small implement from his pocket. An extremely sharp glass-cutting tool he kept for no particular reason from his undercover days. Taking a deep breath, Sam stood up and peered in through the window. He saw nothing but darkness. Wasting no time, he started cutting the pane in a steady, circular motio
n. It was a laborious and time-consuming task, but eventually he felt the small piece of glass give. He pushed it gently, then carefully popped it out, catching it in his palm. He stopped and listened for a few moments. Still no sound from within the house. He slid his arm through the hole he had made, carefully lifted up the latch and pulled the window open.

  Suddenly, the kitchen was partially lit up by a light from further within the house. Sam quickly pushed the window back against its frame and ducked back down under the sill. He held his breath and waited. If the person inside turned on the kitchen light and looked over at the window, they could hardly fail to see the hole he had made.

  To his dismay, the kitchen light did come on. Sam ducked down even further, pressing his back up against the wall in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. Someone entered the kitchen, whistling. Sam heard a fridge door open and close, followed by footsteps leaving the kitchen. Seconds later, the light went off.

  Sam blew out his cheeks in relief. The hole hadn't been spotted. He pushed himself back up and looked over the window sill. In the kitchen, all was dark and still again. He re-opened the window and hauled himself through it, landing noiselessly on the kitchen floor. Sam extracted his flash-light from his pocket and switched it on. Scanning it across the walls, he could see two doors leading off the kitchen, both of which were slightly open. The first one revealed only a small pantry. Sam turned his attention to the other door. He presumed it led to the living-areas. Taking a grip of the handle, he pushed the door open. A musty smell hit Sam as he waved his light around a dark sitting-room.

  Suddenly, he was blinded by a light being shone directly in his face. He raised an arm to shield his eyes from the dazzling beam.

  'You just couldn't leave it alone, could you, Sam?'

  Dave Starkey's voice.

  Sam had walked right into a trap.

  Chapter 70

  The light shining in Sam's face went off, and another, softer light came on in the room. Sam lowered his arm. In the armchair opposite him sat Dave Starkey, bathed in the glow of a floor lamp standing next to the chair. Starkey had a smug look on his face. He held an unlit torch in one hand and a gun in the other. A small black revolver.

  Starkey was pointing the gun straight at Sam.

  'You thought I hadn't noticed the window was broken?' he sneered. 'What do you take me for?'

  Sam didn't reply.

  'I thought you might turn up here,' teased Starkey. 'I've been waiting for you.'

  'Seymour, I suppose,' said Sam glumly. 'He didn't waste any time, did he?'

  A flicker of a smile played on Starkey's lips.

  'No, he didn't. In fact, Bill Seymour's been very helpful, turning up the way he did. You'll be seeing him again very soon, by the way.'

  Sam didn't like the sinister tone in Starkey's voice. Nor did he care to see Bill Seymour, soon or otherwise. The whole lot of them disgusted him. Starkey. Seymour. Molly.

  'Come on, then, Dave,' he said, determined not to show Starkey any fear. 'Are you going to tell me why you killed Carl?'

  Sam had no interest in hearing Starkey's motives, but he needed to keep the man talking to buy some time. However, Starkey said nothing. He just shook his head slowly.

  'Well, there's no point trying to deny it now, is there?' said Sam. 'I mean, murder? Arson? Kidnap-'

  'Shut up, Sam!' shouted Starkey, getting out of his chair. 'You don't know what you're talking about! If you hadn't stuck your nose-'

  'Why, Dave?' asked Sam, raising his own voice. 'Why didn't you want me sticking my nose in, eh? I'll tell you why. You were happy for me or anybody else to take the blame. As long as no-one suspected you. All so you and Molly could escape scot free and start a new life with Carl's money.'

  'I told you to shut up!' exploded Starkey, taking a step towards Sam. 'You think you've got it all worked out, don't you? You think you're so clever!'

  Sam stared down at the gun in Starkey's hand. It was still levelled at Sam's mid-riff, but it was shaking wildly. Starkey couldn't keep his hand still. Sam had got him rattled. For the next few seconds, neither man spoke. A tense stand-off ensued. Starkey was clearly fuming, irritation spread all over his face. The gun continued to waver in his hand.

  'Go on then, Dave,' said Sam coolly. 'What are you waiting for? You've already murdered one person. Shooting me as well isn't going to make much of a difference.'

  Sam knew he was taking the gamble of his life. These could be his last moments. He looked into Starkey's eyes and saw a man losing his bottle. Someone way out of their depth, trying to decide what to do for the best.

  'What's the matter, Dave?' asked Sam, putting his hands out, showing Starkey his own steady palms. 'It's no so easy shooting a man in cold blood, is it? Not when he's facing you. Was it easier knocking Carl over the head and dousing him in petrol? Then dropping a match on him?'

  Anger flickered in Starkey's eyes. His nostrils flared.

  'Why, you-'

  He stopped talking and tilted his head. Alarm spread across his face. Someone was coming downstairs. Running quickly. Sam could hear a muffled voice calling out. Suddenly, the door to the room burst open.

  'Dave, who are you talking-'

  Molly Renshaw stopped in her tracks when she saw Sam.

  Chapter 71

  'Oh, Sam. I didn't-'

  'Hello, Molly,' said Sam evenly.

  Molly's face flushed with embarrassment. She couldn't meet Sam's eyes. Instead, she turned her attention to Starkey.

  'Dave, what is Sam doing here?' she asked angrily. 'And why is Bill's car outside?'

  Sam watched Starkey's reaction with interest.

  'Just leave things to me, Molly,' replied Starkey, looking increasingly flustered. 'I thought you were leaving, anyway.'

  'I am,' she told him. 'I've just finished getting the girls ready. We're-'

  Her mouth fell open as she spotted the gun in Starkey's hand. She stared down at it, transfixed by the weapon. Then she looked back up at Starkey, shaking her head in horror.

  'I'm getting out of here right now!' she hissed at him. 'I don't want to stay in this house a minute longer!'

  She turned to leave the room, but Sam wasn't going to let her walk away that easily.

  'What's this, then?' he asked her. 'A lover's tiff?'

  Molly and Starkey gave him identical scornful looks.

  'What are you on about?' asked Molly.

  Their reaction told Sam he had come to the wrong conclusion somewhere along the line. However, his predicament hadn't changed. He was still looking down the barrel of a gun, and Lucy was still missing.

  'Forget it,' he said, looking from Molly to Starkey. 'I just want to know where Lucy is. That's all I'm here for.'

  'Well, you'd better ask him,' snapped Molly, flashing another angry glance in Starkey's direction. 'He's the one who brought her here and-'

  'But why did you let him bring her here?' asked Sam, genuine wonder in his voice. 'Why would you hold her here in the same house where your daughters are staying?'

  'I didn't know he was bringing her here!' protested Molly. 'He panicked when he thought you were onto him, and now he seems to be messing everything else up as well.'

  The look of contempt Molly gave Starkey confirmed to Sam the two of them were most definitely not a couple.

  'Well, whose fault is it she's still here?' shouted Starkey, returning Molly's accusation back at her with venom. Sam could see he wasn't just finding his voice again. He was beginning to rage.

  'Don't you dare blame-'

  'It's you and your daughter's fault, that's who!' roared Starkey, cutting Molly down. 'They heard you ranting and raving about her being here and felt sorry for her. They're the ones who gave her the phone-'

  'That's it!' screamed Molly, fighting back tears. 'I'm going!'

  She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Sam heard her stomp angrily up the stairs. Seconds later, the faint sound of children's voices drifted down through the ceiling. Frighten
ed and questioning.

  'Come on, you,' growled Starkey, his gun still trained on Sam. 'Let's get going...'

  Chapter 72

  'Is that why you didn't ring me back?' asked Sam, blindly feeling his way down the steps. 'Because Molly pointed out you'd dug yourself in a hole by bringing Lucy here? I suppose once you started thinking straight, you realised you couldn't just let her go. Not when she'd seen you and your car-'

  'Shut up and keep moving,' said Starkey, shoving the barrel of his gun harder into Sam's back.

  'Okay, take it easy,' protested Sam, almost losing his footing. Starkey was forcing him down a stairway in complete darkness. Sam could feel the air getting colder. He presumed they were heading for the basement. He wondered what would be awaiting him there.

  The floor underneath him levelled out before he bumped into something solid. A door. He heard someone scramble about on the other side. Was he finally going to be re-united with Lucy? A terrible thought crossed his mind. What condition was he going to find her in?

  Starkey shoved Sam aside, pushing him face first into a wall while keeping the gun firmly wedged into his back. Sam heard a key turn and the door swing open. Then Starkey turned him around and pushed him through the open door. Sam stumbled down a step and fell to his knees on the damp concrete floor. The basement was as dark as the stairway he had just walked down.

  'Hello?' he whispered, as the door slammed to behind him.

  A tearful voice replied from feet away.

  'Sam?'

  Sam Carlisle had never felt such relief in his life. Never.

  'Lucy?' he replied.

  Then, much to his surprise, a male voice also spoke out.

  'Sam? Sam Carlisle? Is that you?'

  Sam was taken aback. What was Bill Seymour doing down here?

  ***

  They found each other in the darkness and hugged warmly. Sam felt Lucy's tears roll down her cheeks and trickle onto his own face. Bill Seymour could wait a moment. Sam had seriously wondered if he was ever going to see Lucy alive again.

  Eventually, he released himself from her embrace and tried to make her out in the darkness.