Peter Helton - Rainstone Fall

‘That’s exactly what I’ll do, get away. Internal affairs have been sniffing about, I was warned by a loyal soul at Manvers Street. Time to get out, we thought, with a good starting capital. You’d be surprised what sterling still buys in some countries. Just a sec.’ Deeks tore a hole into the covering of the Rodin bundle and felt about until he had the envelope containing the Penny Black. ‘Carry on.’

I lifted the Rodin off the back and squelched across to the van. ‘You might find that the proceeds from this lot won’t go very far,’ I hinted.

‘That won’t matter much. I only wanted the stuff in Telfer’s safe because after we put his brother away he claimed to have video evidence he would use against me if he was ever arrested. Which was possible since I’d taken a bung from them more than once. I hate that arrogant shit so I came up with the idea of killing two birds with one stone, and you’re just as arrogant a shit as Telfer.’

The van was crammed full of boxes and one or two small pieces of antique furniture but there was just space for the Rodin near the door. I dropped it heavily into the van. ‘That haul disappeared into the night, presumably back to Telfer’s. So where’s your starting capital coming from?’

Jill waved the gun towards the shepherd’s hut. Deeks pulled an irritated face and took it from her, then pointed it firmly at me. ‘Go on, in the hut. Speed is of the essence, as they say. Amphetamines, Honeysett, is what they made at Lane End Farm, supplying Bristol and half the West Country. A nice little laboratory hidden among all those shipping containers. Only they’re a load of chemistry nerds, so Blackfield and I managed to rip them off to the tune of half a million each. Then I managed to rip Blackfield off, only he doesn’t know it yet, and now it’s time to go.’

Shivering and dripping, with Deeks prodding me from behind with my own revolver, I stumbled up the little steps and into the shepherd’s hut. Gemma, wearing nothing but black knickers and T-shirt, had been firmly tied with rope to the narrow armchair in the corner. Her black eye had turned a hellish shade of yellow now but I was glad to see there was no fresh evidence of violence on her face.

‘Take a seat, Honeysett,’ Deeks invited me.

I sat on the chair by the little table full of books. Jill squeezed into the overcrowded hut with a roll of nylon gardening twine and started by tying my hands behind me, then winding the thin but strong twine around me with an irritating grin on her face. ‘There you go, you can keep each other company for a while.’

Deeks growled. ‘Stop enjoying yourself and get on with it.’ There came a dull rumble, like distant thunder. ‘There goes the lab. Bit early. Time to go.’

‘Okay, I’m done.’ Jill ruffled my hair. ‘Nice knowing you.’

‘Just one thing,’ I asked. ‘Who killed the old guy, Albert?’

‘No time to chat, I’m afraid, that little woomph was the speed factory catching light.’ Deeks scooped up an armful of Gemma’s books. ‘You won’t need these any more.’

The moment the door was slammed shut, leaving us in semi-darkness, we both started trying to struggle out of our bindings. Jill really had enjoyed herself too much, the cord cut deeply into my chilled skin.

‘It was Blackfield,’ said Gemma.

‘What was?’ I was too busy wriggling to pay attention. I hadn’t liked the sound of ‘You won’t need these any more.’

‘Blackfield hit Albert to discourage him from cycling along his fence in search of mushrooms. He came off his electric bike. But he didn’t kill him, at least that’s what Deeks said.’

I could hear van doors sliding and slamming, then the sound of the big engine starting. Deeks and his girlfriend were leaving.

‘I’m a bit ahead of you in the wriggling game,’ Gemma said, grunting with effort. ‘I had a lot of time to try and get out of these while they were waiting for you and this is rope, there’s always some give. I think I’m nearly there.’

The engine of the van surged outside as Deeks turned and churned it up the hill, taking most of the light that fell through the little window with it. I had stopped shivering, not feeling quite so cold now. It took me only a few seconds to realize why when the first wisps of smoke rose from the floorboards.

I stated the obvious. ‘Shit, we’re on fire. I can smell paraffin, too.’

‘I use it for heating the greenhouse. At least it’s not petrol.’

The nylon cut my skin as I pulled and pulled. I didn’t manage to snap it but the twine stretched a little around my ankles. ‘It’s still raining, that’ll slow it down a bit.’

‘It’s not raining under the hut, though, is it?’ Gemma argued.

‘Good point.’ The hut began to fill with smoke and both of us started to cough. We’d die of smoke inhalation about five minutes before burning to a cinder. ‘Those gas bottles outside, they’re empty, right?’

‘Yup. All except one.’

‘Great. If I know Deeks at all then he’ll have stuffed it under the hut. At least it should be quick.

‘ I rocked the chair back and forth on to the front legs, hind legs, front legs, until on the last swing I ended up on my feet with the chair attached to my behind. I waddled the short distance across and threw myself at the cast-iron stove as hard as I could. I heard an encouraging crack and despite the pain joyfully threw myself at it again. One chair leg came adrift. It was enough to loosen the entire net of twine around me and I managed to kick and pull myself free. I opened the door. Flames were kindling the steps. The inrush of cold air helped me breathe easier, though every lungful made me cough. I grabbed Gemma’s armchair and dragged it to the door, yanked it outside with one big heave while the flames licked about us and we both tumbled over.

An eerie light reflected on to the Hollow from the rim behind the polytunnel, far too bright for just one burning laboratory. I ran into the caravan.

‘On the draining board!’ I heard Gemma call. I grabbed the bread knife and seconds later had cut her free of the tumbled armchair. I was trying to drag her away from the fire while she dragged me the other way. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘The gas bottle’s not in the fire, we can save the hut!’

She ran off towards the nearest water trough while I cut off the rest of the twine from my limbs, then I followed her.

‘What are those lights?’ she asked, throwing an empty watering can at me.

I could now see two blinding light sources shining down into the valley further on where Blackfield’s stalag amphetamine lab was. Had been. I wondered if the chemists had been inside when that went up. ‘No idea what they are.’ We ran back and started throwing water on to the fire, Gemma from a bucket, me with the plastic watering can. The floor of the hut was completely on fire now.

‘What’s that sound?’ she asked.

‘Helicopter.’ Even as I spoke the word a helicopter swooped across the Hollow, turning night into day with its powerful night-sun focused on us. I presumed it was friend, not foe, so I gave it a quick wave, then went on firefighting. A combination of rain, mud and Gemma’s determination to save her hut eventually defeated the fire. The helicopter remained hovering above the rim of the Hollow, shedding light on our labours. At last we realized we had done it and stopped. We were both still coughing, we were wet, covered in mud, and steam rose from our bodies in the cold light of the night-sun. We sank against each other, not quite in an embrace, just keeping each other from falling over. I was still too hot from running back and forth to feel the cold, despite being half naked. There were emergency sirens in the air.

A leather-clad Annis arrived on the Norton only half a minute ahead of her pursuers, slithering the Norton to a stop beside the Land Rover. ‘Blimey, looks like your usual style, Chris,’ she called over the helicopter noise. ‘I won’t ask why you’re both half naked but where’s Jill? Where’s the boy ?’