The Dead Lie Down (Adam Lennox Thrillers: Book One)

by G I Tulloch

  "Tell me Gerard or I'll break every bone in your body one by one."

  Kemp's words were no more than a whisper when they came.

  "I don't know where it is," he mumbled hoarsely.

  Reilly shook his head with a pretence at sadness.

  "I don't believe you Gerard."

  "Then sod off. I've got nothing to live for anyway. My life is finished," whispered Kemp, and even managed a faint smile. "And we beat you."

  Reilly brought the hammer down again and again Kemp screamed.

  "Gerard, I'm telling you, you're going to tell me everything you know before you die."

  And eventually, he did.

  Chapter 34

  Adam was generally willing to admit that he was fallible, that he occasionally made mistakes, and that sometimes they had consequences. He made one that morning when he suggested that Anna meet him at the office before leaving to drive down to the New Forest for their meeting with Dermot O'Rourke. All in all it hadn't been a good day so far and he didn't envisage it getting much better either. O'Rourke had been insistent that they could settle everything amicably, adding an invitation to his house in the New Forest. Sitting in the car with Anna, in a lay-by just north of Lyndhurst, with the snub nose of the automatic grinding into his left groin he was seriously beginning to doubt the wisdom of this meeting. A sentiment that Bel had declared earlier.

  "You're all crazy." She announced to the assembled company, that being Adam, Gerry, and Anna.

  Adam sat at his desk whilst the others arrayed themselves around the walls of the office, covering up the posters of their greater publicity campaigns. Have some respect people.

  "You're going to meet the guy you now know is behind all this, just casually walk into his den and say "My, Grandma, what big teeth you've got. It's nuts!"

  "As long as he thinks he needs us to retrieve his papers there's no danger," he maintained. "And we do have the element of surprise. He doesn't know that we know that he's behind it all."

  "Now you're sounding like a sketch from Monty Python. You'll be mentioning something about the Spanish Inquisition next."

  Adam glanced quickly at Gerry and gave an infinitesimal shake of his head. There was time for frivolity but this was not it.

  "We're armed and trained for confrontational situations. I'll have back-up on the ground," interjected Anna.

  Bel gave Anna an old-fashioned look. "I'll bet you're good at confrontational situations."

  Mitch put his head around the door, a new participant in the conversation as he had been assaulting the coffee machine with intent, out in the main office. He looked at Adam and raised a Glaswegian eyebrow.

  "You wantin' me to come along in the background?"

  Adam shook his head. "No. I want you here looking after Bel. I don't want to leave the back door unguarded. I can look after myself on this occasion."

  At this point Adam's mobile rang, and having checked the caller ID he stepped out of his office and took the call in the walk-in cupboard that housed their photocopier and printers.

  "So are you going to talk to me or not?" DCI Ford's bedside manner was as scathing as ever.

  Adam grimaced. "That depends on what you're going to tell me."

  Ford's grin could almost be heard down the phone. "I've got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?"

  It occurred to Adam to raise an objection to silly games in the current circumstances but had the distinct feeling that he would be over-ruled. Ford enjoyed these too much.

  "Go on. Give me the good news."

  "You asked me to look into anything that connected Bel and Fran that may be on record. I looked. Zip, zilch, zero, nothing of any consequence. Their names appear on record only twice. On one occasion they were given a formal caution for skinny dipping on Brighton beach late at night." Ford paused to savour the thought. Sad man, but we knew that already, thought Adam.

  Ford continued. "The only other instance was when they were witnesses in a shoplifting incident. Nothing of any significance as far as I can see."

  Adam was disappointed because he knew there had to be a connection and he was unwilling to believe that it was only Bartletts. He sighed. "What's the bad news then?"

  "They found Gerard Kemp half an hour ago. A neighbour called in when they got concerned. He'd been bludgeoned to death with a hammer. Scene of Crime team say it looks like a case of torture. Virtually every bone was broken. It's difficult to tell how much was done before he died but he must have died in agony."

  Adam stared at the wall and cursed himself silently. Who knew about Kemp? Had he told anyone? When he had recovered his equilibrium he began to consider what the point of the attack had been. If it was to extract information from Kemp then what information had he given them and what was the impact? It didn't make any sense. According to Kemp he didn't know any of the information his attackers would have been looking for, that is if Kemp had been telling Adam the truth. Adam began to wonder. He liked the idea of the meeting with Dermot O'Rourke even less now.

  "Are you still there?" Ford's voice was almost understanding in tone.

  "Yes. I've just been thinking. I must have killed him." said Adam.

  "You what?" squeaked Ford's voice.

  "I must have slipped up somewhere. Something I said led them to him. Must have done."

  Whilst being willing to accept fallibility, Adam was always gutted when his mistakes cost lives. Tank commanders in the Gulf couldn't afford to make mistakes because mistakes cost lives. Even now he pictured his crew as they'd set out on their final sortie together, unaware of the outcome but accepting the risks. It didn't make it any easier on the soul.

  "Don't berate yourself, it's a dirty business and no-one is entirely innocent. It was Granger that got Kemp dragged into it, and Kemp himself must have been aware of the dangers. Says something about his loyalty to Granger though," conceded Ford.

  "Let me know anything else you find out," stressed Adam.

  "You'll get me the sack if this comes out, you realise," replied Ford.

  "Like you say, it's a dirty business and no-one is entirely innocent," countered Adam.

  Ford snorted and rang off.

  Adam became aware that Bel was out in the open office and on seeing him put down the phone she approached him. She stopped and leant against the edge of a table, picking up a paper-clip.

  "So you're going to do this. Walk into the lion's den," she started.

  "Yes."

  "To prove just what an asshole you are."

  Adam blinked. "Come again."

  "What are you trying to prove? That sentiment overcomes common sense? Or are you trying to prove something to Miss America. Stand up for the Motherland and all that crap." Her challenge intensified in her body language and tone. The paperclip was losing all identity in her quick fingers.

  "I'm trying to finish this thing once and for all," insisted Adam.

  "Well you're going to do that for sure. Once you're in the grave it'll all be over."

  "Your confidence is underwhelming." Adam's sarcasm was ladled on with a spoon.

  "As long as you don't expect me to come to the funeral," Bel said hotly. "My wreath will be the one with a tribute that says 'I told you so'."

  "I'll treasure it."

  "At least let me come with you."

  "What, so that we can die together," chimed Adam.

  She threw the paper-clip into the bin with a force borne of exasperation, and picked up another one to vent her frustration on.

  "You're a stubborn so and so, you know that. I've never met anyone with such a tough hide on them."

  "Sticks and stones, Trent. Sticks and stones."

  "Give me a break Lennox. You know, I'm glad you kept me at arm's length all these years, you know that? It makes it easier to cope with."

  Adam did a mental double take. If anyone had been distant it was Bel. She had resisted any overtures at maintaining relationship with Adam, hadn't she?

  "You want me to move
on don't you, well this is part of me moving on." His words were quick, no nonsense, don't argue with me words, but she did anyway.

  "No Adam, this is part of you moving away." she accused.

  "I've got to do this Bel. I have no choice." he retorted.

  Bel's tone softened along with her expression. "I know. I understand." She studied the paper-clip carefully now.

  Adam shook his head vigorously now, and his words came with speed and energy. "No you don't, one day I'll explain. When this is over and finished."

  Bel sighed and tossed the clip in the bin. "Will it ever be over and finished?"

  "It has to be." declared Adam.

  Chapter 35

  Adam was brought back to the present by a passing car and he read again the note that Bel had thrust into his hand as he left the office. "Don't die without me." What was he supposed to make of that? It left him uneasy but somewhere deep there was a warm feeling he couldn't suppress.

  Anna held up her watch and drew his attention to the time. Time they were going.

  The New Forest is a place of contrasts, bracken covered rolling open country contrasted with deep wooded forest where daylight was a premium and only bright sunlight brought it to life. The overcast weather gave it a sense of lifeless despondency that did nothing for his overall mood. Kick it Adam, get on with it, buck up. Fran's favourite phrase, not compassionate but often apt.

  Dermot O'Rourke's manor house did nothing for him either, set in wooded grounds, surrounded by trees taller than the house itself, peering in the windows, rattling the panes of the forbidding grey walled mansion, immaculately kept but at the same time exuding a lifeless aspect that sucked at the soul. Adam wasn't a fan, it reminded him of a set from Midsomer Murders or Miss Marple. One of these programs where the body-count was high. He put the thought aside.

  The trees dripped around them as they got out of the car. Adam shook his trouser leg as he stood up, ostensibly to shake the creases out of his trousers but in reality trying to make that snub nosed automatic more comfortable. He failed, so they approached the front door anyway.

  Before they could find the bell, let alone press it, the door opened and they were invited in by your archetypal butler. The only blemish to Adam's eye was that this butler's uniform had been carefully cut to carry the shoulder holster without it being too obvious. Adam began to regret leaving Mitch in London. They were guided without ceremony across a panelled hall that would have cheerfully garaged half a dozen London buses, to a pair of doors which swung open at the touch and the butler announced them to the company housed therein as 'Miss Anna Low' and 'Mister Adam Lennox'. Adam trying to ignore the marginal contempt he could detect in the voice. After all you walk into the lions' den what do you expect, a round of applause?

  Stepping into the room Adam realised that he'd made a mistake. It was neither Midsomer or Miss Marple. They stood in a classical Edwardian Drawing Room and in front of them stood Colonel Mustard. Adam scanned the room for the Lead Piping without success. This was going to be no game, he decided.

  The door closed behind them and Adam realised that the butler had, against all etiquette, stayed with them in the room, in which, in addition to Colonel Mustard, stood bodyguard B, looking slightly ridiculous in a suit. The cropped head and broken nose didn't help his case. Adam imagined him in a rugby strip and agreed the image fitted far better.

  Dermot O'Rourke obviously decided that some civilities had to be maintained.

  "You've already met Mr Brent who showed you in, and this is Mr Holt," he introduced, waving his hand at the cropped head and broken nose combination.

  "Please, have a seat, how was the drive down? The M3 can be such a pig."

  They sat but Adam noticed that O'Rourke himself remained standing. Cunning. This man had obviously done Advanced Intimidation to A Level standard.

  O'Rourke folded his arms and addressed Adam. "Mr Lennox. I won't beat about the bush. I asked you here because you have something that I value very highly, and I intend to do whatever I have to, in order to get it back."

  Adam forced a smile and crossed his legs with a nonchalance designed to give him time to respond. "That much I've come to realise Mr O'Rourke, but it intrigues me why you value it so highly that you are willing to go to such lengths to get it back."

  O'Rourke grimaced slightly. "That needn't concern you in the slightest," he responded, a tad testily Adam thought.

  "But if I'm to hand over the right thing to you I would like to make sure that I don't make any mistakes. After all Granger Bartlett went to extreme lengths to guard it."

  A thoughtful look crossed O'Rourke's face. He turned and walked to the window, surveying the garden before turning back to face Adam.

  "In the 1960's Granger Bartlett was a supporter of the Republican cause in Ireland. He gave the cause financial support and some respectability in Britain. The cause thought that it would be advantageous to encourage his loyalty and invited him to Ireland to see at first hand what the struggle was all about. He came, he saw, but for some reason he didn't like the experience. He started to get cold feet and talked of withdrawing his support."

  Adam interjected. "So you decided to rope him in so he couldn't get out."

  "We needed to ensure his involvement."

  "Because you were already using his ships to smuggle arms for the struggle?"

  O'Rourke hesitated, caught briefly off balance by the bold but true statement.

  "You seem remarkably well informed Mr Lennox."

  Adam was busy scanning the room again, assessing odds. He wasn't sure how he saw this being played out to a conclusion.

  "I am blessed with foresight," he claimed. "Getting back to Granger, you decided to rope him into something he couldn't get out of didn't you?"

  Anna, who had been a silent and somewhat relaxed partner up until this stage, sat upright in her chair as Adam continued.

  "You involved him in an army patrol ambush."

  O'Rourke put down the glass he had been holding and stepped closer to Adam. "He was a fool, as naive as a child. We took him to a remote part of the country. We said that we would leak information on his affairs to the press unless he triggered some explosives."

  Once again Adam butted in. "You told him that you were blowing up a road."

  "Yes."

  "But in actual fact you were blowing up a patrol of seven British soldiers."

  "Yes. We were defending our country against the British army of occupation."

  Adam hesitated. Out of the corner of his eye he could detect Anna getting more and more agitated. He didn't like it because he didn't understand it. The last thing he needed was a loose cannon.

  "So seven soldiers died at his hands, and you knew that would be the hold that you needed over him."

  "That's what we thought."

  "But it backfired didn't it? He wasn't as naive as you took him for. He suspected something and was recording all the orders given to him that day. Given to him by you, the leader of the IRA cell running the operation."

  A twitch started above O'Rourke's right eyebrow. "You know a lot more than you were claiming to."

  "Conjecture, all conjecture."

  "So you say."

  "What you didn't know and what nearly ruined everything for you was that, unknown to you, an American journalist had joined the patrol that day..."

  Adam didn't get the chance to finish the sentence because Anna had jumped to her feet and had brought her automatic to bear on O'Rourke. No sooner had she moved than everyone was on their feet and only a signal from O'Rourke prevented Anna from being hauled to the floor by Messrs Brent and Holt. Her eyes jerked feverishly left and right but the gun resolutely pointed at O'Rourke.

  Adam broke the silence first. "Anna, what's going on?"

  No sooner had he spoken than a new light entered her eyes and as Adam watched she swung the automatic to face him.

  She suddenly became very calm. "Dermot, Mr Lennox has an automatic in a groin holster and a throwing knife i
n a belt sheath. I think we should deprive him of both."

  If ever Adam had doubts about the role of the butler it was confirmed then. Butler training had some very odd aspects to it going by the efficiency with which Brent disarmed Adam without giving any chance of retaliation or recovery. Adam kept his eyes on Anna, all the unanswered questions loaded into a cool-ly raised eyebrow. Very James Bond.

  Anna lowered her gun and again addressed her words to O'Rourke. "He hasn't got the package."

  Adam recovered some outward composure whilst his brain toiled with a problem worse than the Times crossword. "So I appear to have been nursing a viper to my bosom," he said.

  O'Rourke was watching him and appearing to enjoy the moment. "I'm sorry Mr Lennox, you were not aware that Anna and I have had a very successful 'working' relationship for some time. One has to keep an edge somehow," he said modestly.

  Adam resisted the temptation to smack him around the face. He took his eyes away from Anna and turned to him.

  "So Kemp knew you were going kill him and sent you on a wild goose chase after me."

  O'Rourke shook his head. "Hardly a wild goose chase. I'm confident that the package will end up in your hands. All you need to do is to hand it over to me."

  "Somehow I feel disinclined to," said Adam, "Just to save your political neck, for what it's worth."

  He noticed a vein rising on O'Rourke's neck. A hit, a palpable hit.

  O'Rourke's expression changed and the veneer of urbanity slipped slightly, giving Adam a glimpse of the O'Rourke of old that Granger might have recognised. Mr Nasty, thought Adam.

  "I'm not going to bandy words with you Lennox. You will pass that package to me if you don't want to follow the path that Kemp took."

  Adam mulled that one over in his mind. Call my bluff was all very well but the odds were against success. He noticed that the henchmen were slowly edging closer to him, which could be a good or a bad thing. A mental coin was tossed. Tails, it's always tails.