Adrian McKinty - Dead I Well May Be

The house lay on a quiet road, with about two acres around it. A house on each side, all three of them what in Ireland we’d call mansions. The lucky break was that opposite the house was a thick, swampy wood that eventually curved all the way down to the Hudson. I suppose the marsh was why this area hadn’t been developed. It was winter and the cover wasn’t what it would be like in the summer but still pretty substantial flora nonetheless. There were bushes and big old deciduous trees and some pines and because of the water and the muck it wasn’t the place you’d go for an idle walk or take the pet pooch.

Peekskill is up the river, past Sing Sing. It’s famous for being the birthplace of Mel Gibson, the scene of an important 1950s race riot and a 1980s sitcom. It’s also the home of Governor Pataki and a couple of 1930s socialist Utopian communities. Darkey lived quite near one of these communities but in winter almost all of its residents went down to Florida. So really there were very few people around and if you found yourself a convenient little bunker, established yourself in the cover in your bivvy bag, and coated yourself up with snow, you could lie unfound for weeks, months, or maybe even until the spring. Aye, I had to admit that it was a nice wee spot and the only drawback was that it wasn’t that near the house and you’d need at least a 12 × 50 pair of binocs or a telescope. I had the binocs only because they were less bulky.

Things had gone smoothly. Napoleon was invading Russia and having a wry old time of it. A couple of the main characters were dead and this was a relief because I’d gotten a bit mixed up anyway. The lying up had been easy. I’d taken the first morning train from 125th and doubled away from the station and back through the woods. I established the OP in darkness and by first light it was snowing lightly and this made things pretty sweet. It snowed all week, and this suited me fine. Peeing was no problem and because of the cover, if I’d chosen, I could have even stood up to go, but I didn’t. Water was good too. I used the swamp and the snow. I had water-purifying tablets and with them there was a new development: a pill you put in that made it so that it didn’t taste of iodine; this was a terrific invention, and I felt very happy about it. The pork and beans were good too; I ate them cold, but I was warm enough, snug even, and most important of all, I could see a good three quarters of the house through my binocs.

A couple of times, I saw Bridget go in and out. My heart leapt and it was all I could do not to stand up and wave and let her see me. Darkey left and came back every day. He drove the Bronco; Bridget, the Jeep; when they went together they took the Jag. Darkey left early, came back late. He had two personal bodyguards and there were two more who lived on the estate and who came in rotation. There were also two servants: a man in his sixties and a woman about the same age. Four guards, that was all. I was surprised, but not that surprised. Darkey didn’t know for certain that it was me. It had been a long time since Sunshine’s death. No one knew where he lived and besides, he could look after himself, he was a big boy, hadn’t he proved that after twenty years on the street? It took me a full seventy-two hours to be sure of the routine and another three days to check it. I was all ready to go on the 23rd of December, but they’d gone out to a party and they hadn’t come back until early in the morning. I was worried about Christmas Eve, too. Wasn’t that also a party night? But by one A.M. the cars were still in the driveway and I was fairly sure they weren’t going anywhere.

Technically now, it was Christmas Day.

My batteries had finally died. I was three quarters of the way through War and Peace and finally getting into the book but if all went well I’d come back and dismantle my OP and sweep it over and take all traces with me to a dump somewhere. I could finish W &P on the plane ride to wherever the plane was going.

It still wasn’t quite late enough, but there was just enough battery life to listen to the radio. I stuck on classical to calm my nerves. They were doing the nine symphonies and I had enough third-form German to switch off after Alle Menschen werden Brüder …

It was time.

I put away the Walkman and listened to the stillness of the woods.

I checked through the binocs again, but there’d been no change. The domestics had been given the day off and aside from Darkey and Bridget, only one guy was walking the grounds, three other guys in the house. The lights were out and you could assume that Darkey and Bridget had gone to bed. If the three men were in shifts, I guessed one other would be awake in the house. That’s how you’d do it, split the night into two. One man on the grounds and one man waiting by the radio. The other two would sleep until it was their watch. So hopefully there’d be only two people awake to deal with. That was all. Unless, of course, I’d been a complete idiot. But I didn’t think I had. Shifts would be the smart thing to do. Four guys, Darkey, and Bridget. Not one of them had thought to get a dog. Jesus. I mean, did they want to be murdered?

I put on my black sweater, boots, thin black gloves, and combat trousers. I pocketed the duct tape, screwdriver, and Stanley knife. I carried the Glock, too, but I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use it just yet. I left the OP and went to a closer spot where I could see the groundsman. There was a small window of opportunity because they did a radio check every fifteen minutes at night, which at least was something you could give them credit for. I spotted the guard. I walked around the hill, following him in his circuit. I’d tail him until I saw him do his check. I knew this character, guard B. His call-ins were irregular. I assumed he was a young guy. The earliest he’d done a check was thirteen minutes and fifteen seconds and the latest he’d left it was seventeen minutes and fifty seconds. He was in darkness, but I knew him and I was well accustomed to the night now. He picked up the radio and called in and said something about it being freezing. He put the radio down and muttered to himself about the cold. I went quickly to the wall. It was eight feet high and topped with glass. Not a problem. I wouldn’t even need rope. I went up and over and lowered myself onto the snow on the other side.

At this point, you have to ask yourself, was there no indecision? And no, I can honestly say there was none. If there had been, it would have been before I killed Sunshine. Not here with Darkey. Not now, not tonight.

I stood up, braced to see if he’d heard me. But he wasn’t hearing anything. With the radio check done, it would be up to seventeen minutes before anyone would get suspicious. Plenty of time. He was wearing a parka with an enormous hood, so big in fact that it restricted his field of vision to about ninety degrees in front of him. He was walking and muttering and carrying a.38 revolver in a thick woolen-gloved hand. So thick it would make finding the trigger difficult. I mean, I ask you. He turned and the moonlight caught him. I was a bit surprised to see that it was our old chum David Marley from way back when. He’d put on weight. He was humming a Chieftains song and banging the gun rhythmically against his leg. He turned away. I crept up behind him and shoved the screwdriver into his throat at the same time as a knee went into his back and my left hand went over his mouth. I left the screwdriver in and with my right hand I removed the gun from his grip. I had it before he even hit the snow, stone dead. I fell on top of him and we lay for a moment. Blood trickling over the snow. He gurgled for a while, and I removed the screwdriver. I looked at his gun and checked it for cleanliness: in a pinch it would do as an extra. I put it in safety mode and slipped it in my side pocket. I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes to find and kill the other guard. With luck there wouldn’t be a shift change and I could let the other two guards sleep and live. With luck.