Philian Gregory

by Simon J. Stephens

  Climbing gently upwards along the single-track lane that would lead them to their destination, Dexter and Dave wondered if perhaps they might have missed the turn-off that they were looking for. The lane grew narrower and the hedges seemed to close in on them every hundred yards, making them slow their speed for fear of heading into a dead end, or over a cliff. Only the sight of a small camera mounted high up in a nearby tree and making its presence known by a slow blink of red, reassured them. The number of cameras increased and Dexter watched as they tracked the car that Dave was painstakingly manoeuvring along the thinning lane. After what seemed like hours, the road once again opened up and they saw a pair of steel gates ahead of them, set into a high, red-brick wall.

  “Not bad for an accountant.”, Dave said as they saw the villa for the first time.

  “If that’s all he is.”, Dexter replied, “Maybe there is more to Mr Jones than we thought. Still, we should be safe enough up here.”

  The gates swung open as they pulled up to them and they took this as a sign that they were to proceed to the main entrance, where they found Jones waiting for them. He was dressed in a flamboyant off-white suit and waving excitedly as he stood between the pale pillars that marked the entrance to his home. As they drew nearer, he pointed off to the left and they aimed the car at a small garage, whose door opened on their approach. Dave eased the car into the space, sensibly noting the flashing sign that greeted them telling them to ‘Remain in your vehicle’.

  “Interesting.”, he murmured, as they obeyed the instruction and felt the car being turned through one hundred and eighty degrees on a turntable built into the floor.

  Another sign told them that they were free to leave the vehicle, which they did, exiting through the garage door that closed behind them.

  “I have something of a gull problem.”, Jones explained as they walked towards him, “And the garage came with the house, so why not use it? Although the turntable was an optional extra. Never could reverse properly without hitting something.”

  “Now, let me greet you formally,”, he continued, shaking them each by the hand and passing across a glass of chilled champagne to toast their arrival, “and say how pleased I am to welcome you to my humble abode.”

  “That’s a novel garage.”, Dave turned up the flattery levels immediately.

  “Just one of the quirks of this place.”, Jones laughed, “I’ll take you on the grand tour shortly, and show you some of the other little touches either bequeathed to me by the previous owner or added for my own comfort. But for now, come on in and let’s relax.”

  They followed him into a cool, marble-floored vestibule, from which a sweeping staircase curved to the next floor. Their footsteps echoed on the stone as they continued through the hall and into the main sitting-room of the villa. The moment they crossed the threshold to this room, the sound of their footsteps ceased and they felt their shoes sinking into luxuriously thick-piled carpet.

  “Come in and settle down.”, Jones ushered them to the large settees that were arranged either side of a huge fireplace, “If it’s okay with you, we’ll have a little snack now and then I’ll show you around the place. That road always takes it out of people on their first visit. I really should have something done about it, but I like being hidden away like this.”

  “It’s certainly a challenge.”, Dexter spoke for the first time, “I’m only glad Richard was driving. He handled it well. But, you’re right, it’s something unique around these parts. Rare to see such isolation still existing.”

  “Once again,”, Jones explained, “a quirk of this particular property. Aside from the terrain being a little too delicate for decent foundations, this was the first villa in the area and the original owner secured a decent deal with the authorities, pretty much guaranteeing his privacy.”

  “Must add a lot to the value?”, Dexter couldn’t help but show his professional interest.

  “I suppose it does.”, Jones settled himself opposite them and reached under the table for a tray of assorted nibbles, “Please, help yourself. No, I’m very fortunate in having this place. It was one of those things that just sort of happened. I’d done a lot of accountancy work for the owner, built up a strong relationship with him, and saved him a lot of money in tax. Then, he suddenly decides that he wants to move to England. That was just about the time that I was having a little bit of trouble with the revenue. My pad in Kingston had shot up in value, it suited him perfectly, so we swapped.”

  “Nice when it works out like that.”, Dave replied, “And, speaking as a professional, not a bad deal by the looks of it.”

  They continued with the small talk and drank more champagne, the two visitors yielding to their host and allowing him to talk away at them, pretty much uninterrupted. They’d agreed that approach on the journey in, trusting in Jones’ loneliness and need for someone to listen to him, to help them gain his confidence. It worked nicely and an hour passed as Jones talked about his excitement about Harrison Hall and some of the ideas that he’d like to share with them. That was followed by a number of scrapbooks that detailed his theatrical career and showed him in numerous well-known roles.

  Despite this being a job of work for Dexter and Dave, they began to warm to their host and enjoy his various anecdotes and experiences. The darkness of his past was more than outweighed by his evident joy in having lived a life that seemed, on the surface, to be one of fun and fulfilment.

  “But enough of me.”, he finally concluded, “Time is moving on and I can’t wait to see the stuff that you’ve bought along.”

  “It’s all here.”, Dave tapped the large bag at his feet, “But we’ll need about fifteen minutes to get it all set up. What we were hoping, is that you had a space where we could leave it all in place. That way, you can invite potential patrons over to look at the plans. Does that work?”

  “That’s perfect.”, he replied, “And I have just the space you need in my office. We’ll take a walk around the villa first, then I’ll leave you to set it up whilst I prepare our supper. Are you both okay with paella? It’s a bit predictable, I know, but it is one of my specialities. The secret is to make it fresh and then let it settle to cook itself.”

  “Sounds great.”, Dexter said, “But let’s not delay. I can’t wait to see the rest of this place.”

  They began outside, circling the large pool which glittered in the evening sun. Behind the compact changing block, rows of terraced gardens seemed to flow far into the distance, the small pathways that connected them lit gently by LED lights set into the ground.

  “I let one of the locals tend to that.”, Jones told them, “I like the greenery, but I couldn’t grow a thing myself. Further back, it links to the original village, so they tend it for nothing and I let them have the run of it past the security fence. It’s an arrangement that works.”

  Turning away from the garden entrance, that they now realised was bisected by a continuation of the wall that circled the property, they marvelled at its being almost invisible in its discrete camouflage of vegetation.

  “I’d rather have the comfort of the security,”, Jones explained, “than the open gardens. More because it keeps out the wildlife than anything else.”

  Heading back towards the pool, they slipped through a previously unseen passage and walked up an outside staircase and back inside the villa. Off to their left, Dave and Dexter noted that that same staircase continued up to the roof.

  “I think the term that best describes this place is Modernist.”, Jones led them along a landing that terminated at the staircase they’d seen earlier, “I like the cleanliness of it all and the lack of clutter. It just works, if you know what I mean.”

  “It’s marvellous.”, Dave enthused, “Not only clean but incredibly cool as well. How many bedrooms?”

  “Just the three, but that’s more than enough. Here, let me show you the Master Suite.”

  They let
him walk them through his bedroom, and they let him show off the numerous gadgets and gizmos that raised tables from the floor and which revealed a range of audio-visual equipment that emerged from the walls. The same level of specification was seen in the other bedrooms and the bathrooms he walked them through, although the final room he showed them was much more traditional.

  “This is my office. This is where you can set up your presentation. It’s the most English of my rooms and still the one I spend most of my time in. It’s the books you see. I just love to read.”

  They stood and gazed at those books in wonder. Three sides of the large room were covered with bookcases, each one stretching higher than they would have believed possible given the dimensions of the property.

  “It’s not a trick.”, Jones responded to their curious looks, “If you look closely at the outside, you’ll see that the roof has been extended upwards to accommodate my library. Now, I really must crack on and get supper moving. I’ll pop up as soon as I’m done.”

  As the door closed behind him, the two visitors looked at each other, speechless for a moment.

  “Don’t get too attached.”, Dave finally broke the silence.

  “It’s hard not to.”, Dexter replied, “The guy isn’t what we thought he was.”

  “Not now, maybe, but we have to remember what he was in the past. Come on, let’s start setting this up. You put it all together, there on that table, whilst I make the most of our being alone.”

  Lifting the holdall onto the table, Dexter began removing their hastily-crafted models and plans, taking his time to ensure that putting them all back together would be a smooth process. Dave meanwhile, began the proper work of the evening.

  “That’s handy.”, he pointed to the wall of videos screens off to their left, “The whole of the building’s covered by cameras. Look, there’s our host bumbling around in the kitchen. Keep an eye on the one to the right, we need to see him approaching.”

  Reaching into the side pocket of the holdall, Dave removed a number of small items and set to work with his own duties. An infra-red scanner located the safe almost immediately and it was a matter of minutes to work out how to swing out the section of fake books that covered it. Dave smiled as he saw the familiar door.

  “Perfect,”, he whispered to himself, “a simple combination lock. Seems that Mr Jones either has little of great value or relies on his cameras too much. I’ll need silence now, but please, don’t lose track of Jones.”

  Dexter was struggling more with his own work than his companion. He rarely had to work to these sort of time boundaries and certainly never under the critical conditions that this project involved. He had to get the presentation ready on time, and he had to ensure that Jones saw nothing of what Dave was up to. A thin line of sweat developed in his forehead as he carefully pieced together the model of Harrison Hall and the panels that displayed the fictitious plans.

  “How are we doing?”, Dave asked.

  “Struggling, but it’s getting there. You?”

  “Just another couple of minutes. Keep looking at that camera.”

  They worked in silence. Both breathing gently as if the world was watching their activities. Time was running out and they couldn’t risk being caught before completing what they’d come to do. They had alternatives if they needed to use them. Already they’d slipped a mild sedative into Jones’ wine which they could add to if they needed him to be even more out of it. It was only delaying his cooking just a little. Every second counted just now.

  “He’s on his way.”, Dexter relayed the information to Dave who was struggling with the last turn of the lock.

  “Remember the contingency.”, Dave replied, “Keep him at the door as long as you have to. Get him singing hits from Oklahoma if necessary. Just don’t let him in.”

  With the presentation fully assembled, Dexter moved to the door and watched the cameras. His heart was pounding in his chest and he found himself counting the steps as Jones approached. Dave cursed and tried the lock again without luck. They were in trouble now and they had no excuse if they were caught in the act.

  “Nearly there.”, Dave muttered, “Come on baby, open up for Papa.”

  Dexter’s gaze flitted from door, to cameras, to Dave. Then it flew back to the cameras as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Jones was at the top of the stairs now, but another camera revealed a shadowy figure reaching the top of the outside flight of steps.

  “We may have a problem…”, he began to speak, his heart racing as he saw Dave swing the safe door open and reach in to remove its entire contents in one swoop. Then the lights went out.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Emergency lighting flicked into action within seconds. It lit the room dimly and allowed Dexter and Dave to see each other in the half-light. Everywhere was silent and the banks of monitors, all now blank as the computers that controlled them were rebooting, offered them no help.

  “Lock the door.”, Dave whispered.

  “Already done.”, Dexter replied, “What the hell’s going on?”

  “How certain were you that you saw someone else?”

  “Pretty certain, but that doesn’t explain the power outage.”

  “It may be the safe.”, Dave sighed, “It may be linked, but I can’t see any signs of that. Something’s not right here. And where’s Jones? He should have been at that door by now.”

  They waited in the silence. Hearing nothing, and having been in much worse situations before, Dave assumed control and began to plan their defence against this unseen and unknown enemy.

  “We’ll get out of this.”, he reassured Dexter as he walked silently over to the holdall that had been placed under the large desk and retrieved several items from a hidden pocket in its base, “But Bob, I need you to stay calm and do exactly as I say. Okay?”

  His friend nodded his agreement.

  “Good, now we need to assume that the lights are down to another person or persons, rather than Jones’ actions. Somebody else is here and they are either after us or Jones. If it’s us, that makes it more challenging. If it’s Jones, then they may not even know we’re here. I need to get out there and see what we’re up against. While I do that, you may as well make yourself useful and take a look at these files. Get a feel for what they contain and copy them if you can.”

  He handed Dexter the large wad of documents and photographs that had been the sole contents of the safe. Passing him a penlight torch, he moved towards the door and slipped the lock open without making a sound.

  “If I’m not back in ten,”, he whispered, “you’ll need to make your own way out.”

  The rest of the house was lit softly by the emergency lights and they provided enough illumination for Dave to be comfortable that he would be able to see any threat before it saw him. Having removed his shoes, he walked stealthily across the plush carpets that absorbed his movements easily and made his way to the top of the grand staircase. To his side, he saw the outside door was open. A gentle evening breeze blew in through it but he chose not to look any closer, having heard the squeak it made when they had come in that way.

  Edging slowly down the stairs, he paused as he thought he heard a shuffling noise coming from the lounge, a noise that was accompanied by heavy breathing and what seemed to be a whimpering, muted voice of protest. He remained stationery, considering the option of fight or flight. The shot that rang out helped him make his decision. He headed down the stairs and took cover behind a side-door that led to a utility cupboard. The shot was followed minutes later by a loud splash, and then all was silent.

  Dexter heard the shot too. It drew him away from the sickening folder that he’d been forced to review and left him wondering what to do next. He trusted Dave and fully understood his expertise in the sort of situation that they were in, but that counted for nothing if the shot had targeted him. Taking the decision that seemed r
ight at that moment, he bundled the papers together and returned them to the safe, stopping himself from swinging the door shut and locking away the degraded filth that would forever be burnt into his consciousness.

  Having heard no further sound, Dave eased himself out of his hiding place and walked slowly towards the rear terrace and the pool. There was a faint smell of slowly cooking seafood coming from the nearby kitchen, a smell that was overlaid by the unmistakable hint of gunpowder that he was all too familiar with. The lounge was empty. The doors leading out to the pool had been left open and the light that shone in from the full moon revealed thick trails across the carpet that he knew to be the signs of a bleeding person being dragged along. From the far side of the lounge he saw the pool, the water black now that the underwater lights had been extinguished, but not black enough that he couldn’t make out the unmistakable form of Jones floating on the surface.

  Just as he was about to ease out onto the pool terrace, the lights came back on. Instinctively, Dave threw himself behind a raised border of native perennials and waited. Far away, he could just about make out the softest footsteps. They might have been from a stray animal, but the likelihood, given everything else, was that they belonged to whoever had been responsible for Jones’ late-night swim. Reassuringly, they were heading away into the distance, that reassurance building as the gentle put-put of a scooter built into a high-pitched whine and he heard the sound of their attackers leaving the area.

  Retrieving a long pole from the far side of the pool, Dave used it to draw Jones towards him. They weren’t close enough for him to want to dive in and give him mouth-to-mouth if it was necessary, but still, he needed to know if the man was salvageable or not. As he drew the form nearer, he understood that any attempt at resuscitation would be futile. As Jones rolled over, the bullet hole in the centre of his head and his wide, staring, lifeless eyes told Dave that he was beyond saving.

  Choosing to see if the high ground would yield anything, Dave moved swiftly away from the pool and ran silently up the outside staircase. He ignored the door into the villa and continued up and onto its roof, from where he could just about make out the form of a moped angling its way through the vegetation, its two occupants huddled closely together.