Peter Corris - Beware of the Dog

I was panting again, belching out steam and feeling pressure build in every part of my body. I licked my lips and tasted blood. The wound on my face was stinging in the icy air and I could feel the blood dripping from my face to join the dog’s blood on the parka. She bucked and heaved like Benny Elias after a tackle. She almost threw me off but I scrabbled for better balance and a better grip with my boots on either side of her wildly thrashing body.

‘Murderer,’ she moaned. ‘Fuck you.’

I let her feel some more of my weight.

‘Give it up, Paula. Give it up.’

‘I’ll kill you.’ Her voice was muffled by grass and dirt. ‘I’ll rip your throat out.’

‘You won’t,’ I said. ‘I’ll put some pressure on your neck and you’ll pass out. Then I’ll unwind your scarf and tie you up. Is that what you want?’

I felt the cold metal against the nape of my neck and simultaneously heard the man’s voice. ‘It’s not what she wants that matters, Hardy. It’s what I want.’

‘Oh, Jesus,’ Paula gasped. ‘Robert! What the hell are you doing here? Get him off me, will you? I’m freezing to death.’

‘Maybe that’d be the best thing all round,’ Robert Crosbie said. ‘If you freeze to death underneath Hardy, who’s found dead with a bullet in the back of his neck.’

‘Don’t be an idiot. Tell him to get off me.’

I could smell him close behind me but I couldn’t tell exactly where he was. He’d moved the gun a fraction so that I wasn’t sure where it was either.

‘Shut up, bitch!’ His voice was nasally harsh. ‘I knew he’d come and anyone with half a brain’d know a fucking dog wouldn’t stop him. If it was anything like the first Rudi, the world’s a better place for it being dead.’

Fury beneath me-squealing, wriggling, heaving.

‘I can’t hold her, Crosbie,’ I said.

He laughed. ‘You’ll hold her, and you’ll do exactly as you said. Get her scarf and tie her up.’

‘Robert!’

She protested but it was me he swiped with the gun. I felt the muzzle cut my scalp and I wanted to get up and take him on, but I didn’t. Tying her up seemed like a good idea. I yanked the scarf free and made a good job of it, lashing her wrists together and making the knots hard and tight. I risked a glance behind me as I did it, but Robert was in control. He’d backed off a metre and his right hand was nicely extended and balanced.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘She’s secure.’

‘Right. Now take off your parka.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t talk, just do it. I learned this in the Reserves. Use the environment to make your enemy as uncomfortable as possible. I’d call this environment cold, wouldn’t you? Strip it off! Left arm first.’

I did it slowly, trying to give myself time to resolve a dilemma. If he felt the weight of the parka he’d know there was a gun in it. I’d only seen his gun out of the corner of my eye, but it might have been a. 38 which meant it might be mine. And that was a one-shot gun at best. Unwise to give him another eight rounds. I slipped out of the parka and threw it away. It landed noiselessly in the grass.

‘Now get off her.’

I eased myself up and turned slowly to face him. He was wearing a balaclava, padded jacket and thick pants tucked into fur-lined boots. The pistol was scarcely visible in his gloved hand. Maybe a. 38, and maybe mine, but only maybe.

He moved very quickly. Before I had time to think about evasion or attack he’d slipped behind Paula and hauled her to her feet. The pistol was jammed into her ear.

‘She’s what you came to find, isn’t she? What you’ll get paid for?’

‘Yes.’

‘Bastard!’ Paula hissed, but at which one of us it was impossible to tell.

‘Well then, do as I say or all you’ll give that old bastard is another funeral to go to. Did you kill the dog, Hardy?’

I was acutely aware of the woman standing like a statue in Crosbie’s grip. Another dilemma. If I admitted to killing the dog she’d almost certainly react and he’d kill her.

‘What dog?’ I said.

Crosbie chuckled. ‘She said you were covered with dog’s blood.’

I was shivering violently. The wind was still blowing hard and without the parka I felt as if it was freezing my marrow. I slapped my arms against my sides. ‘This is crazy,’ I said. ‘Let me get my coat.’

Crosbie’s gun hand didn’t move a millimetre which showed me that he knew what he was doing.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I think we’ll go to the kennels. Paula likes dogs so much, let’s see how she likes being in a kennel.’

He laughed and nudged Paula into movement. We walked slowly along a cement path away from the house, away from my Colt, towards madness. Paula went without a struggle, which surprised me. The thought came to me that it was all an act, something being staged by the two of them to control me. It was a tempting thought, but I had to reject it. Crosbie’s voice and the grip he held Paula in were for real. Accepting that, I began to worry even more. My. 38 has a very light action; if Crosbie stumbled or sneezed, Paula could be history. I thought of telling him so, but the calm assurance of his movements was one of the things that prevented me. Another was the certainty that fear would show in my voice. I was very scared.

And cold. The wind seemed to be separating my ribs and blowing through the gaps. I wrapped my arms around my chest and kept moving. The path ended at a long low building, something like a stable. It was made of brick and divided into compartments, each with a heavy grill gate about a metre high. Above the gates, reaching to the roof, the front of each compartment was made of timber. There looked to be a dozen or so of these stalls; the gates of the first three stood open.

Crosbie stopped at the first gate. ‘Bend over, Hardy, and get in there.’

‘No,’ Paula said. ‘That’s Rudi’s house.’

‘Do it, Hardy. Or I swear I’ll kill her on the spot.’

It was now or never. I had to do something. ‘You won’t kill her.’

‘I’ve killed three people already. What difference will one more make? Or two for that matter.’

I bent and turned slightly, ready to jump at him, but he was still too far away and too poised. ‘I’ll freeze to death in there.’

Again the laugh, sounding slightly crazy now. ‘Old Rudi must’ve had a blanket. Might be a few fleas in it but you’ll be OK. Move!’

I bent double and went through the gate. He kicked it closed and I heard a lock click solidly into place. There was a scuffling noise and the sound of a slap. Then his boot hit the next gate and the lock engaged. I crouched by the gate, looking out at the bricked yard in front of the kennels. Crosbie had put the gun away somewhere and was straightening his clothes.

He looked extremely pleased with himself. I suppose he had a right to be.

‘How did you get here, Hardy?’

‘I flew.’

He disappeared from my sight. I heard a sound I couldn’t interpret and then a stream of icy water hit me in the chest. I banged my head on the low roof as I retreated to the back of the kennel and Crosbie played the hose through the grill, searching for me. I tripped over something on the concrete floor and fell. My head hit the brick wall.

‘Now you are in trouble. I think I’ve wet your blanket.’

‘Robert, Robert, don’t leave me here, please. I’ll do anything you say.’ Paula’s voice trembled and broke.

Crosbie chuckled. ‘You’re a lousy actress, Paula. You always were. You never fooled anyone except that fucking father of yours.’

Paula moaned. ‘If only I had Rudi. I’d like to watch him eat your eyes.’

‘Your cell-mate killed him, remember? I think I’d better go and collect your vehicle, Hardy. You’re a predictable sort of bloke. I think I’ll be able to find it.’