Dead in the Water

by Matthew Costello

  “Okay. The windows. All covered from the inside.”

  “Yup. That’s classic. No one can see anything – even if they do brave that driveway. Anything else?”

  Binoculars back.

  “I think I can see more security cameras on the house itself.”

  “Yes. The burger business must be very good. Or, some business.”

  Then Jack noticed a movement in the distance. A car had turned off the road and was now gliding silently down the hedge-lined drive towards the farmhouse.

  “Borrow the glasses?” he said.

  Sarah handed them over.

  Jack put them to his eyes and focused on the moving car.

  Now crystal clear – a black Mercedes, top of the range. And in the driver’s seat Jack saw a familiar face.

  “Well waddya know,” he said, handing Sarah the binoculars. “It’s our pal from Gloucester.”

  Jack could see the Mercedes clearly now as it pulled up to the side of the farm.

  He waited while she adjusted the focus.

  “You see the plate?” he said.

  “Yep,” she said, reading it out.

  Jack jotted it down in his notebook.

  “Grab a photo too,” he said.

  “Wonder why he’s here?” said Sarah, taking a picture with her phone.

  “Meeting of the mob,” said Jack. “He sure looks like a mob boss – if you have such a thing over here.”

  “Think we call them ‘crime lords’.”

  The bald guy in the slick suit got out. Jack saw the side door of the farm open: Rikky stepped out, walked over to the car, said something.

  Bald man nodded to him briefly, then walked past and disappeared into the house.

  Rikky remained outside for a few seconds. Jack watched him scan the fields.

  Then turn towards them.

  “Stay low,” said Jack, pressing himself down into the grass. He could see Rikky now peering up into these woods. He seemed to be looking directly at them.

  “You don’t think he can see us, do you?” said Sarah.

  “No way,” said Jack. But he wasn’t so sure.

  Then he saw Rikky turn – apparently satisfied there was no threat lurking in the fields – and go back into the farmhouse.

  “Interesting,” said Jack.

  “I don’t think Mr. Mercedes is here on a social call,” said Sarah.

  “Agree.”

  “I’d give anything to be a fly on the wall down there.”

  “Yep,” said Jack. “There has to be a very good reason for our Mr. Big to come all the way out here and put himself in harm’s way.”

  Then Jack heard a noise from down below.

  Not a car.

  Something throaty. A noise they had heard before.

  A motorcycle…

  “Well, what have we here?” said Jack.

  And as Jack looked around to see where the noise was coming from, Sarah started scanning all the roads and lanes that wound around the secluded farmhouse.

  “Looks like we have a late arrival for the party,” said Sarah.

  ***

  “There it is,” she said, handing Jack the binoculars while pointing to the narrow road that led to the driveway.

  Jack could see the bike flying on the road.

  “Got him. Can’t make out who, the helmet and all.”

  “Me neither. But Jack – you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Jack nodded. “One of the three stooges from the Ploughman’s? Hmm…”

  “They all had trail bikes.”

  “Whoever it is,” said Jack. “On a machine like that – it’s definitely someone further down the food chain.”

  For a few seconds, Jack lost the biker behind the dry-stone walls lining the road.

  Then: “Okay, he’s slowing, taking the turn, up the driveway.”

  He lowered the binoculars and handed them back to Sarah.

  “Younger eyes. When he gets up near the house, see if you can make out who it is.”

  For a few moments, the motorbike vanished in the hedge-lined driveway.

  “Lost him.”

  “Give him a minute.”

  Then bike and rider popped out onto the gravel courtyard, and pulled tight to the house.

  “Got him again. Engine stopped.”

  “Okay. Let’s see what happens.”

  Then, even Jack could see the small figure below reach up and pull off the bulky helmet.

  He couldn’t recognise who it was.

  “I see him,” said Sarah. “Wow.”

  “Let me guess. Jake?”

  She turned to Jack.

  “No,” she said. “Callum.”

  “Hmm. The quiet one.”

  “Paying a little social visit to Rikky and Ted.”

  “Or maybe obeying orders,” said Jack. “Orders from the boss.”

  And suddenly Jack felt worried.

  “Hmm,” he said. “I don’t like the look of this.”

  “What do you mean, Jack?”

  “Twenty grand’s worth of drugs goes missing, people have a habit of getting violent.”

  “You think they’d hurt Callum?”

  Jack shrugged.

  “But he’s just a kid,” said Sarah.

  Jack saw Sarah take out her phone, flip it on.

  “No signal,” said Sarah. “So no way we can call Alan – even if we wanted to.”

  “I don’t know what we’d say anyway,” said Jack. “Truth is – we’re so close to cracking this, but right now we’ve got nada – on anyone.”

  Jack thought of the stash of drugs sitting in the locker on his boat. If anything happened to Callum Brady – he would forever feel responsible.

  “I’m going to head down there.”

  “How? It’s open fields.”

  “I can use the tree line – over there.”

  He pointed to the edge of the woods that ran diagonally down the slope.

  “See where it hits the wall? Once I get over that, I should be out of view of any cameras.”

  He looked at Sarah. She stared at him.

  “What?” he said.

  “You said ‘I’,” she said. “Think you meant to say ‘we’.”

  Jack paused. Shook his head.

  “Risky, Sarah.”

  “I know.”

  Jack knew he wasn’t going to win this.

  “Your call,” he said.

  “The two of us together – we look like ramblers…”

  He took the binoculars from her.

  “Couple of bird watchers,” he said.

  “That too” said Sarah, grinning. “Come on.”

  And before he had time to take the lead, she was off, crouching and dodging her way through the gorse and bushes towards the far dry-stone wall.

  36. Meet the Boss

  Sarah paused about a hundred yards from the house, the stone wall at the edge of the field giving cover. She could see a camera on the corner of the building, tucked under the eaves.

  “If I can see the camera – can it see us?” she said.

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” said Jack, back against the wall behind her.

  “I guess we’ll just have to risk it, hmm?”

  “Think so. If we keep low, we should be able to reach the back of the farm – see how this wall runs into it?”

  Sarah looked down the gentle slope towards the farmhouse.

  The side of the building facing her had shuttered windows – all closed. She could see a high wall jutting out from the back of the building that looked like it might contain a garden area.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  And crouching low, she ran fast towards that wall. Seconds later, Jack joined her.

  “God – this is killing my knees,” he said quietly.

  “Your knees? Look what it’s doing to my shoes – they’re my absolute faves!”

  She saw him grin at her – and grinned back.

  Shoes or no shoes – I wouldn’t s
wap this for the world, she thought. What fun…

  She turned back to the wall. Dry-stone – and there were gaps in it.

  She found a good-sized hole, and peered through, expecting to see a garden.

  But the area was all concrete, and there – backed up to the side of the house – stood the white van, its doors wide open.

  She saw Ted and Callum carrying crates from inside the house then sliding them deep into the back of the truck.

  “Looks like Callum’s okay,” she said.

  Jack pressed his face against a hole in the wall next to her. He nodded – she could tell he was relieved.

  “What’s in the crates, you think?” said Sarah looking back through the gap in the wall.

  “Not sure. Looks like food.”

  She changed angle so she could see the other side of the house that gave onto the courtyard.

  Here, too, the windows were all closed and shuttered.

  “I don’t see Rikky…”

  “Wait. There he is,” said Jack.

  Sarah shuffled her position again and found another gap in the stone. In the far corner of the courtyard, she could just see Rikky, sitting at a garden table drinking beer from a bottle.

  Opposite him at the table sat the bald guy.

  “Can’t hear them,” said Jack.

  “Me neither,” said Sarah. “We’re going to have to get closer.”

  She looked at him again – no smiles now. This was getting edgy.

  “Okay,” said Jack. “Not a word from now on, okay?”

  This time she let Jack lead the way, as they half crawled, half walked the length of the perimeter wall, all the time getting slowly closer to the two guys at the table.

  Now she could hear them talking; but she still couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Another ten yards, and she saw Jack raise his hand slightly – stop.

  She waited, heartbeat thumping hard, as he turned slowly toward her and mimed – can you hear?

  She waited. Held her breath. Listened – then nodded.

  As quietly as she could, she lowered herself to the ground and sat, back to the wall.

  She took in the fields and distant hillside.

  How odd she and Jack must look, if anyone up in those hills had binoculars. Like two scarecrows propped against the farmyard wall!

  But were they safe hiding here? She had to hope so.

  Unless the two men actually stood up and peered over the wall she and Jack should be invisible.

  She concentrated on listening. With the two men speaking softly, and the wall in the way, all she picked up was fragments.

  First, the bald guy: “Sort the damn teacher once and for all. And get my property back.”

  Now Rikky: “Do it tonight. After we’ve set up…”

  Then bald guy: “Relying on you, Rikky. You got that?”

  “Yes, Mr. Ross.”

  “You’ll do what’s required – yes?” Bald guy paused. Then: “No matter what.”

  So – a name. Ross.

  Then it went quiet – the sound of the chairs scraping on the concrete, the voices receding.

  Someone was leaving.

  A door slammed from inside the house. Then a car started up.

  Sarah looked at Jack. Who had driven off? Jack nodded towards the road, just visible beyond the fields.

  And sure enough – she saw the black Mercedes speeding away.

  So, orders delivered, threats made, Ross had left.

  Sarah knew that if he turned in his seat right now to look back at the farm, he’d see her and Jack – sitting like two targets against the wall of the farmhouse, clearly lit in the late-afternoon sun.

  She kept her breathing steady, until, at last, the car disappeared over the far rise.

  Now she heard Rikky’s voice in the far corner of the yard – and other voices too, arguing.

  She turned and took the risk of looking through the wall.

  Next to the van, she saw a stack of what looked like scaffold boards and tubes.

  To one side, Sarah could also see other open crates and boxes filled with cables and stage lights. A generator. Cans of fuel.

  Big speakers.

  A very large sound system.

  So that’s what Ted and Callum were doing – loading up for a rave somewhere.

  But right now, she saw that they were having a full on argument with Rikky.

  And Sarah had no problem hearing every word.

  “I never signed up for this,” said Ted.

  “Me neither,” said Callum.

  Sarah saw Rikky step forward, prod Callum in the chest.

  “I didn’t hear you complaining when you were raking it in, you little shit,” said Rikky. Then turning to Ted: “Same with you. You done well out of this, gigging all round the place, lots of girls…”

  “I never wanted people to get hurt,” said Ted.

  “I thought it was going to be fun,” said Callum. “I didn’t want–”

  “Don’t give me that crap!” said Rikky. “This mess is all your fault Brady, you little prick. So guess what? You’re going to help clear it up.”

  Nothing from the two younger guys.

  “Got it? Understand?”

  “Yes, Rikky,” said Callum. Then, a nod from Ted.

  Maybe the brother not so sure.

  “Good. So get this crap loaded up. I want it all done and dusted before it gets dark. Then we go sort out Mr. bloody Wilkins. For good.”

  Sarah watched Rikky take a swig of beer from his bottle and disappear into the farmhouse.

  Ted and Callum looked at each other for a moment then carried on loading the truck.

  Sarah turned to Jack and gestured toward the woods – time to head back?

  He nodded.

  And, crouched low, she followed Jack as he made his way back along the dry-stone wall and up across the fields.

  Only when they reached the cover of the trees, did Sarah finally feel safe.

  She turned to look back at the farmhouse.

  “’Sort out Mr. Wilkins’ – you hear that?” she said.

  “Yep. Tonight from the sound of it.”

  “We’d better get going then,” said Sarah.

  And with Jack right by her side, she headed into the woods towards the car.

  ***

  As Sarah drove back to Cherringham, Jack looked down at his phone, waiting for it to pick up network coverage.

  “Jeez, about time” he said, finding Tim Wilkins’s number and hitting dial.

  “Voicemail,” he said to Sarah. Then: “Hi, Tim. Jack Brennan here. Listen. I need you to stay away from your house. More trouble coming – you understand? From the same place as last time. Call me when you get this. Thanks.”

  “Jack – don’t you think we ought to get hold of Alan now?”

  Jack stared out of the window at the fields flying by in the soft evening sunshine.

  “We could. But I don’t think we’ve got it figured yet – have we?”

  “We’ve got the chain – Ross, Rikky, Ted, Callum Brady… And a threat against Tim.”

  Jack nodded.

  Alan’s involvement could scare everyone away.

  The danger to Tim… only postponed.

  “Right. But we don’t have proof that any court is going to buy. Not sure what Alan could do. And I just feel that we’re close, so close.”

  “But it sounds like Tim’s in real danger.”

  “We can keep him out of that danger – give us time, just a little more time…”

  “Okay,” said Sarah. “Soon as we get to my place we can start tracing some of these plates.”

  “Great.”

  Then Jack picked up his phone again, looked for Louise’s number, hit dial.

  “Louise,” he said, “Jack Brennan.”

  “Jack – everything all right?”

  “Sure. Um, question – you still at school?”

  Jack heard her laugh.

  “Seven thirty in the evening? Of
course I am. Actually there’s a big end-of-term staff meeting so I doubt I’ll get away any time soon.”

  Jack laughed too, her voice suddenly a glimpse of the real world out there – a calm world where people stayed late at work and didn’t get killed or threaten violence.

  “Okay, well… just wondering if Tim Wilkins was around?”

  “No, sorry,” said Louise. “In fact, we’re not expecting him in until next week. He had a car accident you know?”

  “So I hear,” said Jack. “Look – if you hear from him, get him to call me as soon as. Okay?”

  The school head hesitated.

  “I will. Jack, this sounds serious. Are you onto something?”

  “Might just be,” said Jack. “And when we’re sure – you’ll be the first to know, Louise. Promise.”

  “Thanks, Jack. See you soon.”

  Jack clicked the phone off and looked out of the window.

  Already, they had reached the outskirts of Cherringham.

  “Be there in a couple of minutes,” said Sarah.

  “Great. Hey – you’d better drop me at my car. Hadn’t realised the time – I need to get back to the boat first, give Riley a run.”

  “Right – and I need to fix the kids’ supper.”

  “Real life, huh?”

  “A mother’s work,” said Sarah. “God knows what I missed in the office today too.”

  She pulled up in the village square next to Jack’s Sprite.

  “Jack, I meant to ask earlier – how’s the boat coming along?”

  “Nearly done,” said Jack. “Another week, I can get the ‘For Sale’ ticket on her.”

  He saw Sarah nod, and waited for her to continue. But she didn’t seem to have any more to say.

  Not happy with that news, he guessed.

  He climbed out of the car.

  “How about that?” he said, inspecting the windshield. “No ticket.”

  He turned back to Sarah.

  “I asked Grace to feed the meter,” she said.

  “You did?” he said, climbing into the little sports car, laughing. “I owe you. And Grace.”

  “You coming over later?” she said.

  “Give me an hour.”

  “Got martinis and macaroni cheese on the menu.”

  “Sounds great,” said Jack. “But hold fire on the martinis – we’ve got a busy evening ahead.”

  “You think so?”

  “Believe it.”

  He started up the engine and gave Sarah a wave. “See you later.”