Майкл Ридпат - Fatal Error

‘I said, shut the fuck up!’ Guy screamed. ‘Owen’s got it dead right. I should never have hired you. I shouldn’t have listened to you whining about Owen and Henry and my father. I shouldn’t have let you sell Ninetyminutes out from underneath me. I should have fired you months ago.’ He leapt out of his chair, placing his face inches from mine. It was full of hate. I had never seen him like this, even in his worst moments.

Guy had cracked.

‘You speck of shit. You’re going to die, Davo, and I’m going to enjoy it when you do.’ He stepped back and spoke to his brother. ‘But we’ve got to think about this, Owen. Give ourselves time. Kill these two and then get out of the country before anyone realizes they’ve gone.’

Owen nodded his head. He didn’t actually smile, but you could see him swell with pleasure. His big brother was on his side. They were going to run off together, just the two of them, looking after each other as they should have done all along.

‘I’m gonna shoot the fucker,’ he said. Just to be clear.

‘Yeah, I know. But not here. Not now. We need to take them away somewhere.’

‘We can shoot them and move the bodies.’

‘Hey, let me do the thinking, will you?’ snapped Guy. ‘I sorted things after Dominique, I can sort things now. People will see us shifting bodies around. I’ll go and get your car and bring it back here. We’ll put them in alive, and take them somewhere a bit more remote. Maybe somewhere on the way to Dover. Give me the keys.’

Owen thought for a second and then reached into his pocket. He threw Guy a bunch. ‘I’ll get your passport while I’m at it. I’ve got mine here.’ He reached down into the bag by his desk and pulled out his own passport, showing it to Owen. ‘I won’t be long. Keep them covered. And if they try anything, shoot them. It’ll be messier, but we’ll figure something out.’

He was gone.

Ingrid and I were left facing Owen and a gun.

How long would Guy be? Owen’s flat was in Camden, not too far away. It wouldn’t take him long to fetch the car if he took a cab there. Twenty minutes maybe? It would be a long twenty minutes.

Ingrid was still perched on the desk, beside me. She moved her hand out to mine. I held it.

‘How cute,’ said Owen. He shifted his aim slightly away from my head and towards our hands. ‘But let go, or I’ll blow your fingers off.’

We let go.

I cursed myself for allowing her to come, even though it would have been impossible to stop her. Owen wanted to kill me. He didn’t care about Ingrid, but now she would die too.

I still couldn’t believe the transformation I had seen in Guy. He had turned from confused and suicidal to focused and murderous. Something had snapped. This was a Guy I did not recognize, a Guy I did not know.

I wondered where they’d take us. Probably to some woods somewhere in Kent. They’d shoot us, dump us, and drive on to the ferry and the Continent. Would they escape? Between the two of them, they were pretty resourceful. They might.

I thought about dying. About my parents, how distraught they would be. About what I had achieved with my life. To my surprise, I found myself thinking about Ninetyminutes. That was something. Something good. Then I realized it was all going to be over. Sometime in the next hour or so, it was all going to be over.

I glanced at Owen. He saw the fear in my eyes. He smiled.

I tried to get a grip of myself. I had no intention of giving that bastard any pleasure.

We sat there a long time. It seemed longer than twenty minutes, but I didn’t want to check my watch in case it provoked Owen. He sat solidly still. If he was impatient or jumpy, he didn’t show it. His eyes never left me. He had the ghost of a smile, a complacent, self-satisfied smile. He liked to watch me sitting there in fear. He was enjoying this.

Then Ingrid spoke. ‘Owen?’ she said softly. ‘You could just leave us, you know. You could easily get away, just the two of you. We wouldn’t call the police until the morning.’

‘Quiet,’ Owen said. ‘Don’t even try to talk your way out of this.’

‘But, Owen—’

‘I said, quiet!’ He raised the gun.

Just then, we heard the sound of Guy running up the stairs, two at a time. He banged open the door.

‘You took your time,’ Owen said.

‘Come on,’ said Guy. ‘Let’s go. Give me the gun. I’ll cover them.’

‘No, I’ll keep it.’

Guy reached out towards the weapon. Owen pulled it away. ‘I said, I’ll keep it. If anyone’s gonna shoot these fuckers, it’s gonna be me.’

Guy stared at his brother, who stared back. He wasn’t going to budge. Guy shrugged. ‘OK. The car’s outside. Let’s go.’

Owen waved the gun at Ingrid and me. Reluctantly we stood up and followed Guy out into the hallway and down the stairs, Owen a couple of feet behind us.

Guy was first through the door on to the street. Everything was quiet. I looked for Owen’s black Japanese four-wheel drive, but I couldn’t see it.

‘Where’s the car?’ Owen asked.

‘Just round that corner,’ Guy replied, pointing to an alley on the other side of the road.

We crossed the street.

Then several things happened at once. Everything exploded in a bright whiteness. Guy screamed, ‘Down!’ He dived to the ground, pulling Ingrid with him. As I dropped too, pressing my face against the hard road surface, I heard the sharp crack of two shots, then a sharp scream from Owen behind me, and the clatter of his gun falling to the tarmac.

I rolled over. I saw Owen slumped in the road, an outstretched hand reaching for the gun, only inches away from his fingertips. I scrabbled over to it and snatched it away from him. All around me I could hear the sounds of running.

I pulled myself to my feet, still holding the gun. I looked down at Owen, illuminated by the bright lights. Blood seemed to be pouring out of two holes, one in his shoulder and another in his side. Policemen wielding rifles and handguns and wearing bulletproof vests bent over him. A siren wailed with increasing intensity as an ambulance barrelled down the little street towards us.

I turned to look for Ingrid. She seemed unhurt, but she was shaking violently. Wide-eyed, she staggered towards me and I wrapped my arms around her. She clung to me, tight.

Guy was hovering behind the group of policemen who were surrounding his brother, watching them as they tried to stanch the flow of blood. I recognized one of them: DS Spedding. Seconds later they were joined by paramedics in green overalls. Within a minute, Owen was on a stretcher and being lifted into the ambulance.

‘Is he going to be OK?’ Guy asked Spedding, whose hands were covered in Owen’s blood.

‘He’s still alive. He’s bleeding heavily, but he’s a big strong guy. He’s got a chance.’

Guy tried to get into the ambulance with Owen, but Spedding stopped him. There were questions to answer.

I walked over to Guy. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. Spedding stepped back.

‘Thanks, Guy,’ I said.

He tried to smile. ‘Did I fool you?’

‘You fooled me. I knew you were a good actor.’

‘I had to be to fool Owen.’ He turned to watch the ambulance disappear up the road, siren blaring. ‘I hope he lives.’

I hoped so too. For Guy’s sake.

‘I had to do it, Davo. When I saw he really meant to kill you, that even I couldn’t talk him out of it, it all suddenly clicked. He may be my brother, but he’s evil. I’ve tried to hide from that fact all my life. Blame my parents, blame anybody but Owen. So it was up to me to stop him.’

‘I thought you were away a long time.’

‘I called Spedding. He was pretty quick in the circumstances. I knew I couldn’t keep Owen waiting too much longer.’ He shook his head, looking along the street to where the ambulance had long since disappeared. ‘I wish he’d given me the gun.’