“But we’ve finished with all that, Joe. Let’s have a look at the safe and sort my share out.”
When Bruce was in Australia Joe had begun to think of all that gold and silver in the safe as his. Now that he was back, Joe was decidedly uncomfortable with the idea of sharing. If it turned out that they had been stitched up by Lord Farleigh’s friend, then he would need all the money he could lay his hands on to clear the outstanding mortgage on the garage and live the life style that he had always dreamed about. The little garage there was all fine and good, but he wanted a chain of garages across Devon and Cornwall, and with himself as the boss. He had plans to buy himself a yacht and a Bentley or a Rolls Royce. Now Bruce was back and his contact had done a runner with their dosh, he might as well forget it.
“A mate down the town told me about Seth Raines being killed by a hit and run driver,” Bruce said, his voice interrupting Joe’s reverie.
“What’s that?” Joe asked as he pulled himself back to the conversation.
“You know, that hit and run. The old man. Seems the police never got anyone for it.”
“Who was it?” Joe tried to appear disinterested as he put the beer aside and poured himself a cup of tea.
“It was old Seth. Remember? We saw him and his sister Megan at the pub. You thought they were spying on us. It was the night before I went -----.”
“I bloody well remember, Bruce. For god’s sake shut up.” He shouted as his cup fell to the ground. He put his head in his hands.
“Joe? You all right?”
After a few seconds Joe stopped shaking.
“No I’m not bloody alright, you fool,” Joe said. “You’ve no idea what’s involved in all of this. You just go buggering off to Australia and I’m left to sort things out. If you must know, we’ve been screwed by that bloke who was goin’ to take care of getting us the money and on top of that someone was blackmailing me.”
“By who? The bloke?”
“No, you idiot, by Seth bloody Raines and his crabby damn sister.”
He told Bruce what had happened; how he had given Seth’s sister the money.
“I didn’t have a choice, Bruce. He was goin’ to tell the police about us; what he saw out there on the moor; weren’t nothing else I could do.”
“What you trying to say, Joe? You mean you’re the one the police are looking for?”
“I had to stop him, Bruce; weren’t no other way to keep him quiet.”
He skimmed over the fact that he had planned it all: the chat in the pub; waiting until Joe was half drunk; and then hitting him with the truck. He phrased everything in vague terms.
Bruce stood up and put his hand on Joe’s shoulder.
“It was an accident, Joe. You can still go to the police; say you never saw him. It was rainy and dark. These things happen.”
“But what about the sister? She’d tell the police about what Seth was up to, and that I’d given her money to keep him quiet. I’d get 10 years or more. I’ve seen it on the tele. They’d say I did it with intent; that’s what they’d say. I might even get life. My God what a mess.”
They sat there, each trying to work out what they should do through a haze of beer.
“What if we just take what we got in the safe and just disappear? Who’d ever now?” Bruce suggested. “Megan’d still believe that old Seth’d just had an unfortunate accident. Why would she suspect anything?”
“She musta known that I was goin’ see Seth that night when he got killed. For all we know she could just be waitin’ before she puts the grip on us good an’ proper. She’d have us over a right barrel.”
“We have to go to the police, Joe. Yu’ll think a somethin’ to tell ‘em. Say it was an accident; Jes tell ‘em you had too much to drink ---.” Joe cut him off.
“I’m not goin’ to no damn prison. We’ve got to make sure that old crone, Megan bloody Raines don’t say nuthin’ to nobody.” He stood up and gripped the edge of the table. He leant towards his friend, almost willing Bruce to see his point. “If I could get her to come into the garage, I could fix it so she tripped on some tools or some oil or somethin’.”
“I’m not gettin’ involved in no murder, Joe.”
“Too bloody late,” he shouted. “You’re already in for fraud, money launderin’, smugglin’ gold into Australia, the lot. I’ll say you knew everything includin’ about the blackmail. So don’t think you can bail out now. You Aussies got no bloody guts; just a flamin’ bunch of bloody convicts. An’ that goes for you an’ that bloody wife a yours. You’d a looked after her better she’d a bin alive now. You’re just a bloody loser; always was and all always will be.” It had all come tumbling out. He wanted to swallow the last five minutes of his tirade, but it was too late.
Bruce jumped up and took a swing at Joe. The surprise knocked him off balance. As he fell back against a side table, his hand felt the shaft of a hammer. Weeks of pent up anger flooded through his veins. Before he knew it, he had struck out with it, and Bruce crashed to the floor. As he fell
