Simon Kernick - The Business of Dying

The house was about fifty yards in front of me, a large three-storey rectangular structure that looked like an attempt to recreate, with some success, one of those country houses of old. There was a drive that went right down to it before widening to encompass the whole facade of the building. Raymond's blue Bentley was parked outside, along with a Range Rover that I think belonged to Luke. What immediately caught my attention was the fact that Raymond's boot was open, as was the front door to the house. There were a lot of lights on inside and I got the feeling that something was going on.

The lawn leading up to the house was peppered with apple trees, giving enough cover for me to make a cautious approach. When I got to the edge of the driveway, about ten yards from the front door, I crouched behind one of them, shivering against the wet, pondering my next move. I didn't want a confrontation, not if I could help it. Far better to let Illan do the dirty work.

The sound of voices came from inside, and Raymond emerged with Luke in tow. Both were carrying suitcases. Raymond was complaining loudly about the inclement weather, though quite what he expected of England at the end of November was beyond me.

'I'll be glad to fucking get away,' he told Luke as they placed the cases in the back of the Bentley. 'I'm not fucking bullshitting you, I've had enough. It's no wonder our ancestors conquered the fucking world. Anything to have got out of this shithole.'

They turned to go back inside, Raymond still moaning, Luke still grunting in a weak effort to sound interested in what his boss was saying. So, my guess had been right. He was fleeing the coop. An intelligent move. The only problem from Raymond's point of view was that it wasn't going to happen.

I moved out from behind the tree and crept over the gravelled driveway until I was up at the house. Then, slowly, I made my way round towards the front door. Because of the way the porch jutted out a few feet from the rest of the house, I had good cover. So much so that neither Raymond nor Luke spotted me when, a few moments later, they came striding out to the Bentley with two more suitcases.

Without warning, I stepped out of the shadows, raised the MAC 10 and walked towards them, my feet crunching on the gravel. They both turned round at exactly the same time. Raymond looked momentarily shocked, but quickly regained his composure. Luke just glared and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket.

'Get your hands where I can see them. Now!' I pointed the weapon directly at him.

He continued to glare, but slowly raised his hands. Raymond did the same.

'What's the problem, Dennis?' he asked. 'What's all this?' His voice sounded genuinely surprised, but then Raymond had always been a good actor. At one time he'd even convinced me that he was nothing more than a loveable rogue.

'I think you know what the problem is, Raymond. Firstly, I'm not best pleased that you've tried to have me murdered-'

'Dennis, please. I don't know what-'

'Shut the fuck up, and stop playing me for an idiot. And secondly, and more importantly, I've unearthed some disturbing information about you which I want to discuss in more detail before I fill you with holes.'

His expression didn't change. It was all still hurt and shock, as if he truly couldn't understand why he was being held at gunpoint by someone he'd always trusted. 'Look, Dennis, I've always tried to-'

'Alan Kover.' This time a flicker of concern crossed his face. 'I've just finished having a chat with him. He filled me in on some interesting details regarding the work he did for you.'

'I've never heard of an Alan Kover,' he said loudly, but with a marked lack of conviction.

'Details about kidnapping young kids-'

I heard movement on the gravel behind me. Immediately I knew I'd made a mistake by addressing Raymond and Luke with my back to the front door. I started to turn round, but before I could fully react my head seemed to explode with pain as something hard struck it with a lot of force. I felt my legs buckle beneath me and I sank to my knees as I was hit again. I tried to hold on to the MAC 10, knowing that it was probably my only chance of survival, but it seemed to slip effortlessly from my grasp. My head spun and the whole world felt like it was floating away from me. All the time I cursed myself for being so stupid.

I fell forwards on to the gravel but managed to roll on to my side. Above me stood Luke's younger brother, Matthew, an iron bar in his hand and a less than Christian look on his face.

Raymond came into view and gave me a nasty little kick in the ribs. 'Fucking hell, Dennis, you're beginning to really annoy me now. You keep popping up like a fucking unwanted jack-in-the-box. Why can't you just get out of my face?' I wanted to tell him that I would have done if only he'd left me alone, but the act of speaking seemed one effort too far, and it would have been futile anyway. 'Get him inside, Matthew. Out of the fucking way.'

'What do you want me to do with him, Mr Keen?'

'Lock him in the cellar. I'll phone Illan. His boys can come and deal with him. It's their fucking fault he's still here in the first place. And make sure they don't do anything to him here. I don't want any mess in my house.'

'No problem, Mr Keen.' He leaned down and pulled me up roughly by the shoulders. Although conscious, I wasn't in much of a position to resist.

Raymond put his face up close to mine. 'Goodbye, Dennis. I'd say it's been a pleasure knowing you, but it hasn't been. Not at all. You were always a miserable cunt. You strike me as the sort of bloke who'd be a lot happier dead, so maybe I'm doing you a favour.' He gave me a patronizing slap on the cheek, enjoying my helplessness. 'Ta ta.'

He stood up and turned away. 'Have we got everything then, Luke?'

'Seems so, Mr Keen,' Luke mumbled in reply, slamming the boot shut.

'Then let's get out of here. I can't stand another fucking day of this rain.'

They both clambered into the car while Matthew picked up the MAC 10 and, with his free hand, dragged me backwards along the gravel and into the house. He hauled me through the porch and set me down in the large inner hallway, by the rather grand-looking staircase that led up like some Hollywood film set to the main balcony. For some reason, I couldn't help thinking what a sumptuous place it was that Raymond owned.

He turned and went to open the door under the stairs, but it was locked. He fiddled in his pocket for a key and ended up producing a whole bunch of them. As he searched for the one he wanted, still holding both the gun and the iron bar, I felt my strength slowly coming back.

'Don't you fucking try anything, son,' said Matthew, seeing a flicker of movement in my legs.

'I wouldn't do this if I were you,' I told him in a strained voice. 'Getting involved in the murder of a police officer. You could go down for twenty years for this.'

'Shut up and don't fucking speak!' he snarled, but I could hear the nervousness in his voice.

'And what's your boss doing while you're organizing my murder? Running away, like he always does-'

'I told you to shut up!' he snapped, and turned back to his task, this time leaning the MAC 10 against the wall in front of him so that he could hunt through the keys more easily.

I remembered the gun in my other pocket. It struck me that in his hurry to get away, Raymond had been very slipshod, and Matthew was obviously no pro. Slowly, I started to reach down into the pocket. At the same time, Matthew found the key he wanted and placed it in the door. He turned round quickly to check what I was doing, and I think he saw that my hand had moved. He started to say something, but suddenly the angry crackle of gunfire came from somewhere outside. Another burst followed, then several individual shots, then through the open front door came the sound of a car reversing rapidly. It seemed Illan had taken my advice. And quickly, too.