Carl shifted nervously on the spot.
'I had no choice, Sam. Business was bad. I couldn't raise the money-'
'So, you faked your own death!' retorted Sam. 'Leaving me to take the blame for it!'
'That was never meant to happen!' wailed Carl. 'I didn't know you'd try and rescue me from the fire! I thought you'd just stay in the car and ring the fire brigade.'
'Why did you really hire me, Carl?' asked Sam. 'If it wasn't to set me up.'
'He's telling the truth,' chipped in Starkey. 'You weren't brought in as a fall guy. Even I didn't know it at the time, but he just wanted someone to watch his back because-'
He stopped and pointed at Taylor.
'Because this nasty fucker here wouldn't let him do a few deals to raise some extra income. He threatened to hurt his family if-'
'Oh, yeah,' said Sam, turning his attention from Starkey back to Carl. 'The drugs.'
Carl raised his eyebrows at Sam, then shrugged his shoulders.
'It was my only option,' he explained feebly. 'How else was I supposed to get more money in? It was only ever going to be a short-term thing.'
'I can't believe you dragged Molly and the kids into it!' exclaimed Sam, remembering Molly's suspicion of Carl at the time. How right she had been.
'I had to tell her in the end!' protested Carl. 'What was I supposed to do? I tried to keep it all from her, but when I got that final phone call telling me my house was being watched and my kids were going to be hurt, I had no choice.'
Sam thought of the mysterious phone call Carl had received. The one that had caused such a change in his behaviour. No wonder Molly's attitude had turned distant from then on. The poor woman had been trying to come to terms with all the revelations. Left with no choice but to go along with such a desperate plan.
'So, you told Molly everything and the three of you came up with this idea?'
Carl looked down at his feet.
'Molly didn't want any part of it,' he muttered. 'But I told her nobody was going to get hurt. She would get all the insurance money and we were going to start somewhere afresh. Move abroad. Get as far away as possible.'
Sam felt his cheeks blush a touch. He had been so sure it was Molly and Starkey planning a future together.
'What about the dead body found in the factory?' he asked.
'You can blame him partly for that,' said Starkey, nodding in Taylor's direction. 'We dug up someone he bumped off years ago.'
Taylor threw back his head and laughed maliciously. It was the first noise to come out of his mouth for a while. Sam preferred him quiet.
'Well, you messed up big time,' said Sam. 'Dropping the ring so far away from the body. The police would have picked up on it eventually.'
'Yeah, well, we're not professional arsonists, are we?' said Carl, looking across at Starkey. 'We forgot about the ring and had to go back. The fire was too strong to drop it right by the body.'
'It wasn't the only mistake you made, was it, Dave?' said Sam, staring at Starkey. 'The photo?'
Starkey winced at the reminder.
'It was a good job he did drop it, Sam,' said Carl. 'Or you might not be alive today.'
'What do you mean?' asked Sam, recalling the vague memory of being dragged away from the fire.
Carl looked at him long and hard.
'We went back to look for it and saw you in the doorway. Dave ran off. I was going to do the same until I saw you knocked off your feet by that blast.'
Sam gaped at Carl.
'It was you?' he croaked. 'You're the one who pulled me away?'
Carl nodded solemnly.
'I couldn't leave you there,' he explained. 'Like I said, you shouldn't have been anywhere near the fire.'
Sam said nothing for a moment. He was gob-smacked by the irony of it. Pulled to safety by the man he had been trying to rescue.
'Where have you been hiding all this time?' he asked, finally finding his tongue.
'Up there,' answered Carl, raising his eyes to the ceiling. 'On the top floor.'
'What about you?' asked Sam, turning his attention to Starkey. 'What's in it for you?'
Starkey didn't answer. Blood was still seeping from his head wound. His eyes remained locked on Taylor, but they looked glazed over. As though he wasn't fully there anymore.
'He was going to get a generous cut of the insurance money,' Carl answered for him. 'Enough to retire on.'
Sam was overcome with disgust. The three men in front of him made him sick.
'You had it all planned out, didn't you?' he said to Carl. 'And sod anybody who got caught up in it.'
'I said I'm sorry, Sam,' bleated Carl. 'It was never-'
'Save it!' yelled Sam. 'You're pathetic. All of you. Have you got any idea of the mess you left behind?'
Carl stared back at him, stony-faced.
'Well, I'll tell you,' hissed Sam furiously. 'I've been interrogated by the police. Your dopey mate here raided my home and kidnapped my friend. I've been lied to, followed-'
As Sam raged, he noticed a slight movement out the corner of his eye. Martyn Taylor was on the move again, inching his way up the stairs once more. Neither man above him had noticed. Despite looking directly at Taylor, Starkey was too concussed to register the subtle movements, while Carl was preoccupied with bowing his head in shame.
All of sudden, Martyn Taylor was almost at the top of the stairs.
Before Sam could shout a warning, Taylor made his final, decisive move and threw out his free hand, hitting the light switch on the wall. As the stairway was plunged into darkness, Sam dived back into the basement. A split second later, the world was filled with the sound of gunfire.
Lucy screamed. Seymour gasped in fright. Carl shouted out from up above them.
And the shots rang out.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Bullets whined and ricocheted off walls.
Sam heard someone fall.
Groaning.
More groaning.
Then, silence.
A deathly silence.
Chapter 76
Low moaning. Gunsmoke. Frightened breathing. An air of uncertainty.
Sam lay spread-eagled on the floor. He wriggled his arms and legs. No damage done.
He scrambled to his knees. 'Lucy?' he whispered urgently. 'Are you alright?'
A feeble moan resounded from the other side of the room. He crawled over.
'Lucy?'
'Sam?' she replied groggily.
'Are you hurt?' he asked.
'No-No, I think I'm okay.'
Seymour coughed next to her.
'Bill?'
'I'm okay, Sam,' he wheezed.
'Right, stay here,' ordered Sam. 'Both of you.'
He went to move. Lucy's small hand rested on top of his own.
'Please,' she begged. 'Don't go.'
'I have to, Lucy. I've got to find out what's happened up there.'
He felt her hand slip away. In that moment, Sam felt a strange sensation of losing something more profound.
He started towards the doorway.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the light came back on. Carl was stood by the switch. Sam couldn't see a graze on him. The same couldn't be said for the other two. Martyn Taylor had clearly taken bullets to the chest. His upper half was covered in blood and he was writhing in pain on the stairway, each pitiful groan getting weaker than the last. Starkey had fared slightly better. He was kneeling on the top step, clutching a bloodied shoulder. It looked to Sam like a flesh wound, but combined with the earlier blow to the head, Starkey was struggling to maintain consciousness. Carl was staring down at him in distress.
Sam shook his head. What a sorry sight.
'I'll ring for an ambulance,' he announced, causing Carl to jump. 'And the police.'
'No, Sam, you can't.'
Sam took his phone out.
'Carl, look around you,' he said. 'One man's nearly dead and the other needs hospital treatment.'
'You can't ring
anybody!' shouted Carl, panicking.
Sam ignored him and started punching in numbers.
'Put that phone down!'
He looked up with the intention of telling Carl to shut up once and for all.
Sam closed his mouth.
It was Dave Starkey who had spoken. Somehow, he had struggled to his feet and propped himself up against the wall. Carl stared at Starkey with a mixture of awe and astonishment. Sam rolled his eyes. Every time he thought it was over...
'I said, put the phone down!' barked Starkey. He still had hold of his gun. Only now, he was pointing it at Sam.
'Come on, Dave,' said Sam. 'Think about what you're-'
With unsteady hands, Starkey raised the gun until he had it aimed at Sam's head.
'Okay, I'm putting it away.'
Sam bent down and placed the phone on the floor.
'Good,' said Starkey, clutching his blood-soaked shoulder and wincing in pain. 'Carl,' he grimaced. 'We're going...'
Carl started to protest.
Starkey swung around and pointed the gun at him. Carl's eyes widened in fear.
'Dave, what are you doing?'
'You're coming with me,' Starkey told him. 'Now, get moving.'
'Come on, Dave,' pleaded Carl, holding out a hand. 'You're not thinking straight. You've had a bang on the head. You've been shot.'
Gingerly, Starkey removed his hand from his bloody shoulder and pointed a red-stained finger at the prostrate figure breathing shallowly on the stairs.
'He's not going to make it,' he remarked groggily, nodding at Taylor. 'And I'm not hanging around here to get done for murder.'
Carl looked down miserably at Martyn Taylor and sighed. Then he gave Sam a hopeful look. Sam could only reply with a resigned shrug. Starkey may not be thinking clearly, but he was the one calling the shots. Taylor's weapon lay halfway up the stairs, tantalisingly out of Sam's reach. Too far away for a quick dash.
Sam watched Carl half-heartedly move to the front door. Starkey followed him, but not before he had given Sam one final, lingering look.
'You're out of it now, Sam. Make sure you keep it that way.'
And then they were gone.
Chapter 77
Sam took off his jacket, rolled it into a ball and slid it under Martyn Taylor's head. The man was barely breathing. Sam took his wrist and found a faint pulse. He went down the stairs to retrieve his phone.
'Sam? What's happened?'
'It's okay, Lucy,' he replied. 'It's safe to come out now. They've gone.'
Lucy and an ashen-faced Billy Seymour appeared in the doorway. Lucy peered up the stairs and gasped when she saw Martyn Taylor's lifeless form.
'Is he going to be-'
Her tentative words were drowned out by the sound of shots being fired outside the front of the house. Sam counted three shots, all fired from the same weapon. He picked up his phone and handed it to Lucy.
'Here...ring for an ambulance.'
For a split second, they locked eyes, searching each other, looking deep into one another's souls. In that moment, something unspoken passed between them. Lucy lowered her head and took the phone off him without a word.
It was Seymour who went to protest. Sam cut him off, insisting the farmhouse was safe for them now. All they had to do was sit tight and wait for the emergency services to arrive. Seymour nodded reluctantly. Sam turned and climbed the stairs, picking Taylor's gun up along the way. At the top, he glanced back down.
Lucy had turned her back on him.
***
Sam opened the front door just in time to see Starkey's car speeding off. Two men were running towards the house. Sam recognised DCI Carter first. Sprinting alongside him was another figure he had seen plenty of recently.
Peter Canning.
Canning was a police officer.
Sam could have kicked himself. No wonder there had been a familiarity about the man. He had been working undercover at the Renshaw's house.
Neither policeman looked surprised to see Sam, confirming to him they had been following in the Freelander. In fact, Canning had probably been following him since the factory burnt down.
'Did Starkey fire at you?' asked Sam.
Canning reached him first.
'Yeah,' he replied grimly. 'We shouted for him to stop, but he just opened up. It's a good thing he can't shoot straight.'
'Right,' said Sam, pulling Taylor's gun out of his belt and checking it for ammunition. 'There's a critically injured man inside who needs immediate medical attention. Two other people are in there as well. Go easy on them. They're-'
'Whoah, hold on there!'
Carter arrived at the door, breathing hard. Sam watched him bend over and place his hands on his knees.
'You're not going anywhere, Sam,' said Carter in between gasps.
'Try and stop me.'
Carter stood up straight with some difficulty and stared at Sam. The detective was aware Starkey was getting farther away with each wasted second. There was no time for arguing.
'Peter,' he sighed. 'Deal with things here. I'll keep in touch.'
Canning raised his eyebrows but accepted the order without protest.
Sam was already moving.
Chapter 78
Sam was in the Clio, belted up and ready to go, while Carter was still halfway to the car. The DCI stopped for a moment, shrugged, then continued jogging. No sooner had he climbed in and slammed the passenger door shut than Sam had the vehicle screeching out onto the main road.
Suddenly, they heard the sound of brakes being slammed on behind them.
'Whoops!' exclaimed Sam, realising he had pulled out onto the road without looking.
'Don't worry about it,' growled Carter. 'We're still in one piece.'
Sam began to build up speed while keeping his eyes on the set of headlights away in the distance. As long as Starkey kept his own lights on and stayed on these roads, Sam knew he could use them as a marker. However, he hadn't accounted for what was going on behind. The vehicle he had nearly collided with was right up his bumper, the driver flashing his headlights and sounding the horn.
'Just what we need,' sighed Carter. 'Someone with road rage.'
Sam took a glance in his mirror. The flashing and blaring continued unabated.
'That sure is one annoyed road user,' he said.
'Forget him,' instructed Carter. 'We haven't got time to reason with the guy. If we stop, we'll lose Starkey for sure.'
Sam nodded and slammed the car into fifth gear. The Clio whined in protest as it fought to give Sam the speed he desperately needed.
'Yeah, forget him,' seethed Sam through gritted teeth. 'Let's talk about you instead, Detective Chief Inspector. Let's talk about why you've been following me for the last few days.'
***
'What you're telling me is I've been doing your job for you. Is that right?'
'I wouldn't put it that way,' said Carter, grimly hanging on to the door handle as Sam steered the Clio round a bend at speed. 'I just let things run their natural course. Mason had got his knickers in a twist over you. He was never going to look at the case objectively. You've got a proven track record, and once you were put under the spotlight, I knew you'd go looking for answers yourself.'
Sam pushed the car even faster. They were catching up with the vehicle ahead. He glanced in his mirror. Alarmingly, the raging driver was still hot on their trail.
'So, while Mason was running up a blind alley,' said Sam bitterly, 'you had me followed instead.'
'Look, take it as a compliment, will you,' sighed Carter. 'I read your police record. You never failed to come up with the goods until, well, you know...'
Sam thought of his wife and daughter for the first time in what seemed an eternity. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
'And don't forget,' added Carter, 'we came to your rescue when you pushed things too far at that pub.'
'That's very big of you.'
'Oh, come on, Sam,' said Carter, sounding slightl
y exasperated. 'What are you doing right now if you don't want to be involved?'
Sam said nothing and concentrated on the road ahead. He knew Carter was right. Given the choice back there, he had left Lucy behind, vulnerable and scared. Sam could offer all the excuses he wanted about rescuing Carl from the clutches of an unstable gunman, but his first instinct had still been to follow the danger.
***
They were gaining rapidly on Starkey, the injured man's speed having dropped dramatically over the last couple of miles. What concerned Sam was how erratic Starkey's driving had become. His car was veering dangerously from side to side. Starkey was losing control, putting himself and Carl in grave danger. Sam eased off the accelerator a touch.
Carter's radio crackled into life. The detective unhooked it off his belt and put it to his mouth.
'We're closing up behind him. Yeah, just going back into Bursleigh. Is the back up anywhere near, yet?'
Sam glanced at his passenger. Carter was pulling a face.
'Well, keep me up to date,' sighed Carter, before switching the radio off.
'The nearest police car is still a distance away,' he informed Sam in a low monotone. 'We'll have to settle for containing him for now.'
'We'll take it as it comes,' Sam countered, paying little heed to Carter's suggestion. 'What's your interest in this case, anyway?'
He sensed Carter hesitate before answering.
'I'm part of the drugs squad up here in the North. A few months ago we heard a rumour Carl Renshaw was putting out feelers with a view to dealing again.'
'Again?' said Sam, watching Starkey's car up ahead narrowly miss an oncoming vehicle. 'You sound as though you've had previous with Carl.'
'I have,' said Carter. 'I worked in Bursleigh years ago when I was just a constable. I was part of the raid on the Withdean estate that took down Martyn Taylor and his mob.'
'Small world,' muttered Sam.
'It is in this part of the country,' agreed Carter. 'A colleague of mine...a good friend...was stabbed in the chest during the raid.'
'Did he survive?'
'Yeah, he survived. But he never worked for the force again. In fact, he was never the same man again.'
'So, is this about revenge?' asked Sam. 'Your chance to get the one man who got away unpunished?'
A New Dawn Rising Page 24