Майкл Ридпат - The Predator

He approached the front door. It opened when he was still a couple of steps away. A tall woman with long greying hair eyed him suspiciously.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.’

‘What do you want?’

‘To see Marcus.’

The woman hesitated. Finally, her sympathy overcame her suspicion, and she let him in. She led him through to a warm living room and asked him to take a seat. He did so, on a strange-looking squat wooden chair that was surprisingly comfortable. The woman sat on the floor near a stove. The room was adorned with wild Indian-style fabrics. There were other pieces of furniture in a similar style to the chair Chris was sitting on, and at least a dozen pots of various sizes and shapes, all decorated in primitive browns and greens. And no TV.

‘One of Marcus’s?’ Chris asked, tapping the chair.

The woman nodded. She had a smooth face, serene. Despite her grey hair, she didn’t seem to be much older than Chris.

‘Is he here?’

‘He’s out back. He’ll be here in a moment.’

Chris heard a metallic click, and looked up. A tall man wearing a long coat was standing in the doorway. In his hands was a rifle. The rifle was pointing straight at Chris.

Chris slowly rose to his feet, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. He knew it would be difficult to talk to Marcus. The barrel of the gun didn’t make it any easier.

‘There’s no need for that,’ Chris said gently.

‘I think there is,’ Marcus growled. He sounded like Alex. He looked like him, too, only much taller. He had the same thin face and dark eyebrows. The stubble on his cheeks reminded Chris of Alex on a Sunday evening. But of course Marcus looked older, more than ten years older, and he lacked Alex’s sense of humour. At least while he was holding a gun.

‘Marcus, please,’ the woman said.

‘Be quiet, Angie. I don’t trust this guy.’

‘Put the gun down,’ she said.

‘No. I’m keeping hold of the gun. Now, what’s your name?’

‘Chris. Chris Szczypiorski.’

‘I thought so. Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want to talk to you?’

‘Yes, you did. But I want to talk to you. And I’m here now.’

‘Well, just turn around and go right out the way you came in.’

Chris took a deep breath. ‘Please, Marcus. I’ve travelled a long way to see you. Give me ten minutes.’

Marcus thought this over. His eyebrows knitted together in a frown. ‘Since you’re here,’ he said. ‘Talk.’

Chris returned to his chair, and Marcus sat opposite him. Angie watched carefully from her position on the floor. The gun rested on Marcus’s knees, pointing at Chris.

‘Tell me what happened on the boat.’

‘Right.’ Chris found it impossible to take his eyes off the rifle, and very difficult to get his thoughts in order. But having come this far, there was no point in prevaricating. He told Marcus about the evening on the boat in some detail. Marcus’s intense brown eyes hung on every word. When he had finished, Chris fell silent.

‘And that’s it?’ Marcus asked.

‘That’s it.’

‘You haven’t left anything out?’

Chris shook his head.

‘If that’s what happened, why didn’t you tell the police?’

‘We didn’t want Duncan to get into trouble.’

‘Why not? He killed my brother didn’t he?’

‘It was an accident. He didn’t mean to knock Alex into the sea. He was drunk, and provoked.’

‘So you covered it up. I thought Alex was a friend of yours.’ The anger and contempt seethed in Marcus’s voice.

‘He was,’ said Chris. ‘That’s why three of us, including Duncan, risked their lives to try to save him. It was very lucky they weren’t all drowned. I thought we weren’t going to find Ian in the end.’

‘Shame you did,’ Marcus muttered.

Chris ignored the comment.

‘Trouble is,’ said Marcus slowly. ‘That’s not what happened.’

Chris shrugged. He had told Marcus the truth. There was nothing more he could do.

‘You investment bankers never quit lying, do you?’

‘I’m not lying, Marcus.’

‘How am I supposed to believe you? You lied to the police, didn’t you?’ A contemptuous smile flickered on his face. ‘I know about the police investigation. A few months ago I was going through some of my mother’s old stuff and there was a letter to her from my aunt talking about how the police suspected Alex’s death was murder. I called my aunt, who said that there were all kinds of suspicions right after the death, but nothing ever came of them. I go to New York from time to time to sell my furniture, so the next time I was there I tracked down a detective who worked on the case. He said he was suspicious. There was bruising on Alex’s jaw that was consistent with a blow. He thought you guys were all lying. Then suddenly his boss told him to forget all about it. So he forgot it. But I haven’t.’

‘That’s why you went looking for Lenka?’

‘That’s right. I tried Eric Astle first, but he wouldn’t even see me. And the guy who ran the training programme wasn’t much help either. Pretty soon, I realized that most of the people on that boat were in London, so I went over there to find them. You were out of the country somewhere, but I spoke to the Czech woman. Lenka.’

‘Who told you the same as I just have,’ Chris said.

‘More or less.’

‘And then you found Duncan and screamed at him?’

‘Yes.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Marcus. ‘But there is one.’

‘Is it something Lenka told you?’

Marcus didn’t answer.

‘I know Lenka sent you an e-mail saying she had something important to tell you. You said you’d phone her. Did you?’

Marcus nodded.

‘What did she say?’

‘She said she was planning a trip to America in a couple of weeks, and she wanted to come out here to see me. We agreed on a day.’

‘Did she say what she wanted to talk to you about?’

‘I asked her. She said it was something to do with Alex’s death. But she’d only tell me the details when we met.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘I asked her that, too. She said she had something to tell me that I had a right to know, but that she was worried about what I might do with the information. She said it would be better to discuss it face-to-face.’

‘So you have no idea what this “something” was?’

‘All she would say was that what she had told me happened, didn’t happen. I asked her whether Duncan knocked Alex into the sea or not. I mean that seems a pretty difficult thing to get wrong. Lenka said he had, but that wasn’t how Alex had died.’

Chris was stunned. ‘What could she mean?’

‘I don’t know. I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me more. But you tell me.’

‘What?’ said Chris.

‘How did my brother die?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘You were there. What happened? Did you all throw him in together? Is that what happened? Did you beat him senseless and toss him into the sea?’ Marcus raised his voice. ‘Tell me, for God’s sake!’

‘I don’t know,’ said Chris. ‘If what Lenka originally told you is wrong, I just don’t know.’

‘How can that be?’ said Marcus. ‘You were there.’

Chris shrugged.

‘You’re all going to cover this up, aren’t you? And then one of you is going to come out here and kill me too.’ His eyes lit up as the thought took hold. ‘Is that what you’re doing here? Stand up!’

Chris didn’t move.

‘I said, stand up.’ The end of Marcus’s rifle twitched.

This time Chris did as he was told.

‘Frisk him, Angie.’

‘What?’ Angie looked at him as if he was mad.