She rolled her eyes impatiently. ‘I’m busting you out,’ she said. ‘Get over here. You too, lady.’
‘You expect me to fall for that again?’ he said.
‘You have no other choice.’
‘I trusted you once before and look where it landed me.’
‘Then you’ll just have to fire up your trust again, won’t you?’
Erica came forward. ‘I know you,’ she said quietly.
‘Not me, lady,’ said Caroline.
Tremain’s face had been changing shades, from an angry red to a volcanic puce. ‘I’m going to kill you, you bitch!’ he snarled. ‘Wherever you go I’m going to find you, and then I’m going to watch you die for this.’
Caroline handed over Tremain’s gun to Erica. ‘I know you’re familiar with using these,’ she said. She nodded at Lambert-Chide. ‘Cover him. He may be over ninety but he’s as sharp as a needle and as slippery as a grease- covered banker. I have to take care of some unfinished business with Tremain here.’ The tone of her voice had changed dramatically, dropping instantly from cold to Siberian winter. She went over to him and put the gun to his forehead. Tremain didn’t flinch, his eyes twin balls of loathing. ‘You think I won’t use this, don’t you, Tremain?’
‘You know you won’t,’ he said.
‘You’re wrong. I came here for two reasons. Number two was to get these guys out of your filthy clutches. Number one was to settle an old score. I came to kill you.’
Something in her threat caused Tremain’s self-assurance to weaken. He felt the barrel of the gun press deeper into the skin of his forehead, saw how the knuckles of the woman’s hand whitened.
‘Who are you?’ he said.
‘I’m here on behalf of an old friend of yours,’ she said. ‘You might know her, since you murdered her.’
‘You’re crazy,’ he said, wincing at the discomfort.
‘Crazy? Yeah, maybe you’re right. On your knees, Tremain.’ He gave an obstinate shake of the head. Caroline lashed the gun across his face and he uttered a grunt of pain. He dropped to his knees, blood beginning to drip in a scarlet rivulet from a gash on his cheek. Caroline went calmly around to the back of the man, the gun now pressed against the base of his skull. There appeared to be no emotion in her face; even her eyes looked glassy and lifeless.
The lack of feeling was the frightening thing, like she was on automatic. Gareth had no doubt in his mind that she was going to make real her threat. ‘Jesus, Caroline! What are you doing? You can’t kill a man in cold blood!’
‘No? Watch me.’
‘Don’t do this,’ said Erica, holding out a pleading hand. ‘She wouldn’t have wanted you to do this. If you do you’ll only bring yourself down to their sick level.’
Caroline’s head flashed up, and Gareth thought he detected the tiniest glint of a tear in her eye; or perhaps he wanted it to be there. Her hand was undoubtedly trembling. ‘This man murdered my mother!’ she revealed.
Erica’s voice was calm. ‘Don’t do it, Caroline. Please, don’t let there be any more killing.’
‘You remember her, Tremain? Remember the woman you murdered? She was my mother,’ said Caroline. ‘Stephanie Jacobs. Doctor Stephanie Jacobs. Sound familiar?’
There was a moment’s silence as Tremain absorbed the words. ‘Yeah, I knew her. She was killed in a car accident. Hit a lamppost. Died outright.’
‘Hit a lamp post,’ she echoed. ‘Whilst running away from your goons. And it wasn’t outright, was it, Tremain? You helped it along, as she sat there unconscious and helpless. She might have been saved, but you couldn’t allow that to happen, could you? You killed her to keep her quiet and now I’m here to settle the score.’
‘Caroline,’ said Erica, taking a step closer to the distraught woman, ‘Your mother was a good woman. She was the only one who showed me any kindness. She gave her life rescuing me. Don’t soil her name, her memory, by killing Tremain, no matter how much you think he deserves it. I beg you, Caroline.’
Gareth had had enough. He threw his hands up in despair. ‘Cut the fucking charade, will you? Caroline, she’s admitted she’s a fraud, so don’t listen to her. For all we know she’s still in cahoots with them.’ Then he realised it might sound like an excuse for Caroline to pull the trigger. ‘Just leave the man be. Let’s get out of here and we’ll settle things later.’
Lambert-Chide, who had remained silent throughout the exchanges, now chose to speak up. ‘Well done, Tremain, you buffoon! How the hell did she get through security checks?’
‘She checked out!’ he retorted. ‘Her cover was good…’
‘Now’s the time to beg for your life, Tremain,’ said Caroline, her composure returned.
‘Never!’ he said.
She cracked him over the back of the head with the butt of the pistol and he fell forward, grasping the point of contact. He groaned.
‘You can’t!’ protested Gareth.
‘I can!’ she returned,’ her teeth gritted. ‘He took my mother from me. He deserves to die…’
‘Caroline…’ pleaded Erica.
‘Do it, why don’t you?’ said Lambert-Chide. ‘The man’s an inexcusable imbecile.’
‘You’re next!’ said Caroline, swinging the gun onto the old man. Only a flicker at the corner of his lip gave away any concern he had for his safety. She brought it back to point at Tremain’s back. Her trigger finger appeared to stiffen. Then, with a loud exhalation, she lifted the gun so that it pointed at the ceiling. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘let’s go. You!’ she addressed Lambert-Chide, ‘You are coming with us. Tremain stays here.’ They filed out of the room, Caroline taking one last look at Tremain who sat on the floor rubbing his bruised head. ‘Consider yourself lucky,’ she said.
‘You won’t be so lucky when I catch up with you,’ he growled. ‘I’m going to find you, all of you, and one by one…’
Her expression was frosty. ‘Try it. I warn you, Tremain, if I ever see you again I will kill you. No more chances.’ She closed the door on his vehement protestations. ‘Have a taste of your own medicine,’ she said. ‘Right, there’s a car waiting for us out back. If anyone tries to stop us don’t hesitate to use that thing,’ she told Erica. ‘Move it, you old goat,’ she ordered Lambert-Chide.
The rear of the house was in almost total darkness. It had once been one of the many tradesmen’s entrances, tucked discreetly away so that the owners couldn’t see the comings and goings of the merchants. Caroline made them pause at the ivy-wreathed door whilst she checked everything was clear. A large black Bentley had been dutifully parked not far away from the door. Its gleaming paintwork reflected the stars in the crisp night sky, looking as if a piece of the universe had been laid at their feet.
‘You and Erica in the rear,’ Caroline directed Gareth. ‘You get the pleasure of my company, David. I’ll drive and all I ask from you is that you’re a good boy at the gates.’
‘We can still work this out,’ Lambert-Chide persisted, lowering himself into the passenger seat. We can come to an arrangement.’
She ignored him, or never heard him as she went through the plans in her mind. ‘Keep low, both of you. The windows are fairly well blacked out but we don’t want the guys on the gate suspecting anything.’ She started the engine. ‘Nice motor,’ she observed. ‘How many lives did this cost?’ Lambert-Chide chose to ignore her, his restless eyes looking for a way out, windows on a mind that was feverishly calculating, searching for a way out.
They drove down the gravelled driveway, Gareth looking back and half-expecting a shrill cry of alarm, lights to suddenly blaze around the house. But it remained quiet, the house in almost complete darkness except for one or two windows which offered a tiny warm glow against the night. They reached the twin iron gates. A bright halogen light came on as soon as they approached and someone stepped up to them out of the darkness. Erica let the passenger-side window scroll down, just enough for the security guard to see Lambert-Chide’s face. No words were exchanged. The man stepped aside and the gates swung silently open. Caroline sighed in relief as the window rolled back up again.
‘Where are we going?’ Gareth asked as the car sped away down country lanes, leaving Gattenby House far behind.
‘Somewhere safe,’ said Caroline.
Gareth snorted. ‘I seem to remember you saying something similar, just before you handed me over to Tremain.’
‘Necessity,’ she said.
