The Winter House

by P. R. Black

  Crispin trotted down the ski-trail progress of the wheels down the driveway into the snow.

  The boy looked like he wanted to burst into tears, and Seth felt the need to comfort him, calm him down. Just a kid.

  ‘You uncouple the caravan from its berth?’ Seth asked. ‘You did that?’

  The boy nodded. ‘I am so, so, sorry about your windows. I didn’t mean for that to happen…’

  ‘Never mind that, son,’ Seth said. ‘We’ve got to get in that house. There’s one left.’

  Then the music, and the lights, cut out in the house. The sudden silence was shocking. Seth cringed, completely exposed in the front of the house. The glare might have prevented anyone from seeing him inside; now, he would have been obvious to anyone watching.

  ‘Grab that clown’s shotgun,’ he hissed. ‘And help me find Jay’s gun – the one I threw over there.’

  ‘Don’t bother,’ came a new voice. ‘Both of you, stay where you are, and keep your hands where I can see them.’

  Wherever Leonard, the police officer, had chosen for a hiding place, it had been a good one. Now he strode across the lawn, padding confidently through the snow. His progress wasn’t the steadiest, but his aim with the pistol was. He moved it between Seth and Crispin, picking them out expertly in darting, lizard-like movements. ‘You, Junior Commando – get over there beside him. Right now. And how about you tell me what’s going on here, Seth?’

  55

  Cramond yanked Vonny to the side; she rebounded against a wall, crying out. It was lost in the thudding music.

  He pointed the gun at Susie and Whelan. Their expressions matched.

  ‘Get inside,’ Cramond yelled. ‘Now!’

  They complied, hands up. Whelan seemed to have difficulty walking; he stumbled forward like a new-born foal.

  Cramond stepped back, the better to keep the three of them covered. He gestured to Susie to shut the front door, which she did.

  ‘Now you, beanpole – you see that fuse box? Turn everything off.’

  Still on the floor, Vonny saw the look of utter fear on Whelan’s face. Pity for the young officer gave her a new, strange impetus. Poor boy, she thought. Utterly terrified.

  ‘This one?’ Whelan had flipped over the fuse box, on the wall opposite the front door.

  ‘All of them!’ Cramond shrieked. ‘Right now!’

  Whelan did as he was bid, and the house was silenced; and plunged into darkness.

  Vonny thought to make a dash for one of the spare rooms; Cramond anticipated this, and the gun barrel stabbed into her shoulder. ‘Now that the noise is over… Let’s head into the kitchen. I think I recognise you, young lady,’ Cramond said, returning to his previous condescending manner, a middle manager at a company barbecue. ‘Yes, we’ve spoken, haven’t we?’

  Susie cleared her throat, and composed herself before saying: ‘Whatever’s going on here… It’s over. You must see that. There’s the front door – get out. Leave. Just split. The cops are here.’

  ‘I don’t see any cops,’ Cramond said. ‘Unless he’s one. Which I doubt. I think I can see piss running down his leg.’ Whelan actually whimpered, as Cramond turned to him and Susie. ‘Here’s what will happen. You two – get down on the floor. Face down, hands over the backs of your heads.’

  Whelan followed the instructions to the letter, burying his face in the carpet. ‘Do what he says,’ he said, voice trembling on the top note. ‘Follow his instructions.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Susie grumbled. But she followed suit. Her eyes locked with Vonny’s. Did she have a plan? Something up her sleeve?

  But all Vonny could think to do was shake her head. They were helpless.

  ‘Starting with the girl, I’m going to shoot bits off them. I’ll give my man a call. He’s out there with your man. You can tell him what’s happening. Let’s make it a live broadcast. That might help jog his memory. Apparently he’s having trouble finding my gear.’

  Cramond pulled out a mobile and dialled, still keeping the gun on Vonny. They all heard the dialling tone. No response. Cramond frowned. Then there was a flickering outside the front door; a change in the light, nothing more.

  Then, concussion; the windows along the east side exploded; the house shook.

  Cramond hesitated for a second, in as much shock as the rest of them. Vonny frowned…

  He had dropped his gun.

  As he darted forward to retrieve it, Vonny saw her chance, running for the staircase. ‘Pick a room! Split up! He can’t follow us all!’ she screamed.

  Following the curve of the staircase, clothes still sodden and clinging to her, sudden uplift in cold, everything electric; and she had to be quick because he actually fired at her. She heard the thunderclap, saw the stairs spit at her; realised the expectoration had splinters and shards in it, red pepper mist across her arm, shrapnel from the gunshot.

  She did not stop. Cramond fired again – a close thing this time, something patting the outside of her right thigh and poking a hole in the wall. Once more around the curve, and she was on the balcony. His footsteps, right behind her. Below, Susie’s face, stricken, calling out to her, even as the tall lad dragged her away out of the door. Long drop. Designed that way. Vonny would take her chances. She placed her hand on the balcony. Felt something; remembered something; then stopped.

  Cramond had her covered as he reached the top. He was angry now. He pointed a gun at her but looked as if he would keep on going, piling right over the top of her. She set her jaw; she stayed standing. She did not raise her hands.

  Cramond jammed the gun underneath her chin. ‘Any last requests?’

  ‘You’ve lost. You’re going to jail. That’s if you don’t get shot. Leave me in peace. I had nothing to do with it. Nothing.’

  He removed the gun from her throat. ‘You’re probably right. I knew I should have gone with your lump of a man. He’ll break, all right. No question.’

  ‘He won’t break,’ Vonny said. ‘But you’re about to.’

  Then she launched herself at him.

  He managed to throw up a hand to ward her off; the one with the gun in it. He did not fire. Vonny threw her arms around Cramond’s neck, planted one foot on the balcony floor, then arched backwards, using her weight, using the element of surprise.

  Seeing the balcony approaching, Cramond used his spare hand to brace himself against it, and shifted his weight onto the standing leg. Assuming the metalwork rushing towards him was fixed in place. Braced for an impact that never came.

  The balcony simply fell away, just as Seth had feared it would. A tinkle of screws fell alongside them as they plunged towards the stone bench by the water feature. Just over three metres to fall, head-first, not even long enough to scream, but long enough. They both fell, Vonny’s limbs entwined with his.

  Then impact. Then silence.

  56

  Whelan dragged Susie outside. When he turned around, he shrieked. There were three people stood in front of them in the snow. Whelan recognised one of them.

  ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘that’s gunfire – there’s a suspect in the house. We think he’s…’

  ‘Settle down,’ Leonard said, and that’s when Susie and Whelan noticed the gun.

  Whelan saw the significance now in Susie’s earlier observation. He raised his hands. Susie misread it; misread Seth’s tense expression, despite the wreckage of his face, and that of the bulging-eyed boy who appeared to have smeared himself with army camouflage make-up. ‘The guy you want’s in there!’ Susie cried. ‘He’s got Vonny!’

  ‘Get out of the way,’ Seth said. When he hobbled forward through the snow, his face compressed into tight lines and sharp angles, and he hissed through his teeth, clearly in pain.

  ‘Stop where you are,’ Leonard said.

  ‘Shoot me if you have to, dickhead,’ Seth said, and tore open the door.

  It was dark and silent inside. The water feature was stilled thanks to the electricity being off. On the black marble slabs in front of the fountain, t
wo bodies were entwined.

  ‘Oh no, no, no, no!’ Seth lurched forward; he fell before he reached them.

  Behind them, Whelan flipped open the fuse box and pulled the switch. The lights came back on. Perhaps mercifully, Motörhead did not.

  The two bodies sprawled across the black marble were those of Cramond and Vonny. They were frozen in a dance, arms and legs splayed, heads lolling. Vonny’s head rested on the edge of the slab, her cheek against Cramond’s bent knee. Water pooled under her chin.

  As Seth sank to his knees, she blinked.

  Seth scooped her up. She sobbed and wailed when she saw him; they held each other tight.

  Behind them, Susie, Whelan, Crispin and Leonard came forward, Leonard with the gun in his hand. Crispin looked back for a moment. Leonard said: ‘Good Lord, is that a crossbow?’

  Crispin nodded. ‘I know how to use them. They’re legit.’

  ‘I’ll decide what’s legit, Robin of Loxley,’ Leonard said, as a grin carved open his face. The gun he held on the boy was, however, deadly serious. ‘Put it down on the floor, and get up against that back wall. On the double. Whelan, and his blushing bride-to-be – join him. Make friends. Link hands if you like.’

  Whelan said: ‘Sir, we believe there was a kidnapping situation here. Miss McCracken and I came over, and…’

  ‘Shut your trap or I’ll put some holes in it,’ Leonard said tersely.

  Whelan did as he was told, gazing helplessly at Susie.

  Leonard, keeping the gun low but maintaining a convenient angle to turn the gun on anyone in front of him, came close to Vonny and Seth.

  ‘He had a gun on me,’ Vonny babbled, against Seth’s chest. ‘He had lost the plot. He wanted drugs. He was going to kill us, whether he got them or not. Him and the other men. There are two others out there…’

  Seth hugged her closer still – a gesture of warmth and tenderness, ostensibly, but Vonny instantly understood what he meant. Keep schtum.

  Leonard cocked his head and stared at Cramond’s – perhaps in mock imitation of the angle of the latter’s own posture. Cramond’s neck was twisted like an action figure’s, and his sightless eyes and wide-open jaw were all the proof required that he was dead. He had landed on his head, and Vonny’s weight on his back, added to the impact on the black marble, had finished matters. Conveniently for Vonny, his body had absorbed most of the shock of the fall. Vonny was dazed, frightened, freezing cold and wet to the skin, but alive and unharmed.

  ‘You did a number on old Cramond,’ Leonard said. ‘No doubt about that. Well.’

  ‘There were two others,’ Vonny said, ‘a stocky, heavily built one, and a little guy who looks like, I don’t know, a pleasure boater or something, older guy…’

  ‘The older guy’s name is Vinnicombe, and he’s stone dead, love. Had a disagreement with a caravan, of all the things. Had his guts squeezed out. Nasty. And I think I saw Jay’s body bobbing around in the lake, just at the back of the woods. Clever move to put a body in water. That what you did with the other two boys, Seth?’

  ‘We don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Seth said. ‘Our house was invaded. We’ve defended ourselves. There are witnesses.’ He nodded towards Crispin, Whelan and Susie. ‘They’ve seen and heard everything. Then there’s you.’

  Leonard tutted. ‘That’s true. Absolutely right. That’s the problem, isn’t it? I’ll have to figure something out, here.’

  Then Leonard felt the shotgun touch his back. He flinched – then stopped.

  ‘Drop that gun,’ said a polite, but firm voice.

  Fulton, the farmer, had crept in at his back through the front door. None of them had made a sound as he had crept in behind them, a finger to his lips, the long-barrelled shotgun slowly brought down to bear. They hadn’t even moved their eyes.

  ‘Do it quickly. If I stick both barrels into you, then your best outcome is being a hemiplegic. And I don’t think that’s your preferred option, is it, sir?’

  ‘I’m a police officer,’ Leonard stammered, trying to turn his head to get a good look at the newcomer.

  ‘Armed police?’ Fulton asked. ‘That’s a very strange-looking weapon to have, even if you are an armed police officer. Which you aren’t. Drop it. Throw it across the floor. Now.’

  Leonard let it fall out of his hands. Fulton stepped forward, using the gun barrel to push Leonard forward, then kicked the gun into a corner. ‘You’re making a big mistake,’ Leonard said.

  ‘Am I?’ Fulton said. ‘In what way?’

  ‘We have a very odd situation here, and you’re making it ten times harder.’ The tension was clear in Leonard’s voice. There was anger in it, as well as fear, and this gave it a rough edge. ‘Throw your own gun down and let’s talk about what’s happening here.’

  ‘Call the police,’ Susie said. She turned to Whelan. ‘Put a call in, now. That’ll get to the bottom of it.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Leonard said. ‘Nobody do anything. Whelan, take your phone out and throw it on the floor. You too, lass. And Action Man over there. If you’ve got one, drop the phones.’

  ‘Sir?’ Whelan looked from one face to the other – seeing conspirators, all of a sudden.

  ‘You should do what he says,’ Fulton said, with the tone of a games teacher who might have seen someone with athletic talent. ‘This is fascinating. A little strange that I’m responding to your orders, when I’ve got the gun. All the same, it gives me an idea.’ Fulton’s gaze fell upon Vonny and Seth, particularly the latter. ‘Good Lord, old man… What’s happened to you? You look like something I snagged in my combine harvester.’

  ‘Long story,’ Seth said. ‘I’ll live.’

  ‘You just might. And you, my treasure… Please tell me no one’s hurt you.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Vonny said. ‘Now please, for the love of God, get the police round here. I want this nightmare over with, now.’

  ‘Of course,’ Fulton said. ‘Now, our senior police officer, you pick up the phone. The one closest to you. Doesn’t matter which. Come on – your move, old bean. Pick it up. That’s right.’

  Looking uncertain, Leonard picked up Whelan’s phone.

  ‘Now, it’ll have an emergency function on it, although I’m sure the tall poppy here won’t mind giving us his security code, if there’s a problem.’

  ‘I can’t see one,’ Leonard said.

  ‘It’s the big red button on the right-hand side,’ Whelan said, helpfully. ‘Just press it and it’ll make the call.’

  Leonard smiled. Then he let the phone drop to the floor.

  ‘He’s not going to call for back-up,’ Susie McCracken said. ‘He could have done it half an hour ago, but he didn’t do it then, either. That tells me one thing. He’s in on it. He’s on the force, but he’s dirty. I don’t think Whelan is – he deliberately recruited the dumbest policeman I’ve ever met as his sidekick on this job. And maybe that was the point.’ She turned to Whelan, and whispered: ‘Sorry.’

  Returning to Leonard, Susie said: ‘You’re in on this, whatever it is.’ She addressed Seth. ‘What was it – drugs in the car? The one you found?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Seth said – in a listless tone that implied the exact opposite.

  ‘Your bollocks,’ Susie said. ‘Sorry, you’re a nice guy, but you’re an awful liar. I heard gunshots, here. Then I saw this guy here carrying a gun out of an action movie. Detectives don’t carry guns. So why don’t you talk us through it?’

  Leonard pressed his hands together as if in prayer, and looked towards the atrium, foamed over completely with snow. ‘Now, look, folks. We can all very calmly work something out.’

  ‘Oh, I think I’ve done that for you,’ Fulton said. He levelled the gun at Leonard. Everyone held their breath; Fulton had the satisfaction of fear in the other’s eyes, and a mumbled entreaty that sputtered out. ‘Over there, with the other two,’ he said. ‘Stand just apart from them. Thank you. Everyone, keep their hands in the air.’

  �
��We can come out of this smiling,’ Leonard said. ‘Everyone.’

  Fulton nodded absently. Backing up and turning slightly, he asked Vonny, gently: ‘Is that the man who hit my wife?’

  Vonny nodded, as he gestured towards Cramond’s broken body.

  ‘Pity.’ He sighed. ‘I should have enjoyed killing him. I should thank you for doing the job. Prill’s awfully upset, back at the house. Not badly hurt. All the same, it’s upsetting.’

  ‘He was a psycho. They all were. I regret nothing. I regret…’ She choked on the last word. She did regret. She regretted it already. She would hear Cramond’s last scream, and the awful crack that silenced it, for the rest of her life.

  ‘Quite,’ Fulton said, as he picked his way over the remains of the balcony. ‘I have to say – that bannister was a bad job, Seth.’

  ‘Sorry. Didn’t get round to fixing it,’ Seth said, his face blank. ‘I’ve been awful busy.’

  ‘This his gun?’ Fulton asked, deftly scooping up the weapon no one had noticed.

  ‘Yeah,’ Vonny said. ‘He let a few rounds off… He missed me. I think he missed me…’ She began to tear at her sleeve and the leg of her trousers, frantically searching for a wound. ‘I mean it was close, but he didn’t hit me. I think.’

  ‘You’re fine.’ Fulton weighed up the gun in his free hand. Vonny noticed he had thick green gardener’s gloves on. ‘If he’d hit you with this, you’d know it, all right. They do a lot of damage, these things.’

  ‘Make sure the safety’s on,’ Leonard said.

  ‘I can’t be sure it is,’ Fulton said. ‘Let’s find out.’ Then he fired the pistol.

  Everyone ducked; Vonny, and possibly Whelan screamed.

  But Leonard screamed harder. He was on the floor, holding what was left of one foot. A red explosion below it had detonated across the carpet, a scarlet star gone supernova. Blood seeped out from between his fingers. Vonny covered her face, and turned away. Seth stood in front of her, hands raised. Leonard remembered to scream.