Читать книгу Conspiracy Thriller 4 E-Book Bundle - Scott Mariani - Страница 34
Chapter Twenty-Five
ОглавлениеAs Ben talked about the crash, the colour left Jude’s face and his jaw hardened. He closed his eyes. Finally he whispered, ‘May I get out of the car, please?’
Ben nodded, waiting to see how the young guy was going to respond. He’d had to break bad news before. It was never nice, but it was always different. Sometimes the reaction was complete shock, physical illness, collapse. Other times it was denial – sometimes furious and aggressive denial. Shooting the messenger brought some kind of relief. Ben could understand that. He’d been through it himself, more than once in his life.
Jude hurled open the Mazda’s passenger door and staggered out. He paced in a circle on the frosty grass. Let out several gasping breaths, his face contorted in pain. Turning back towards the car he yelled hoarsely at Ben, ‘How the fuck do you know this? Tell me! How come you’re telling me this?’
‘Because I was there when it happened,’ Ben said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’
Jude shook his head wildly. ‘No, no. No. It can’t fucking be.’ He ripped open the zipper of his fleece jacket pocket, took out a phone and started stabbing at it.
Ben knew what number he was calling. ‘There’s nobody at home, Jude.’ He watched as the young man stood there with the phone clamped to his ear, shoulders bent, waiting for an answer, willing with all his might for this to be just some cruel, crazy joke being played on him. After a few moments Jude gave up, then an afterthought hit him and he thumbed more buttons on his phone. His eyes brightened momentarily. ‘No, no. Wait. I’ve got messages.’
‘They’re all from me,’ Ben said.
Jude waved at him to shut up. Listening intently to each message in turn, his face grew steadily more and more pallid, as if hope was a colour that was slowly draining out of him with every passing moment.
The hand clutching the phone fell limp at his side. He leaned against the stone wall. His shoulders sagged. Then he bent over and was violently sick.
Ben got out of the car and walked over to where Jude was doubled up by the wall, gasping and gagging. Ben laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not possible,’ Jude croaked through his tears. ‘I’m never going to see them again. It’s just not possible.’
‘They’re in a better place now,’ Ben said.
Jude spun around to face him, red-eyed. ‘You believe all that shit about heaven, do you?’
Ben said nothing. He didn’t know whether he believed it or not. He said no more, and let the young man be for a few minutes. Leaning against the side of the Mazda he lit a cigarette, watched the smoke whip away on the cold wind and wondered how the hell he should break the rest of the news. Telling Jude that the crash had been no accident was going to be even tougher than just telling him his parents had died.
‘I’m stranded here,’ Jude said after a while. ‘We came in Robbie’s car. He’s too pissed to drive. Will you take me back?’
‘I came to fetch you,’ Ben said. ‘Get your things.’
‘My things don’t matter,’ Jude said.
‘Yes, they do,’ Ben said. ‘Go and get them.’
‘I have to tell Robbie what’s happened.’
‘Tell him, but be quick.’
Jude slunk back to the farmhouse with his head low, wiping his eyes as he went. Ben felt guilty, as he’d known he would. He’d spend the next month questioning whether he’d broken the news in the right way. Maybe there was no right way. He smoked the rest of his cigarette as he let Scruffy run around the yard. The dog hunted about, cocking his leg over everything in sight.
A few minutes later Jude returned from the farmhouse carrying a rucksack. His eyes were redder than before. Without a word, he stuffed the rucksack in the boot and climbed into the passenger seat. Scruffy bounded in at his feet.
‘I’m ready,’ Jude whispered. ‘Let’s go.’
Ben bumped the Mazda back down the track to the road. Jude was silent for a long time as they drove though the darkness. The mist was settling more thickly than ever across the moors now, and visibility was down to about twenty yards. Ben focused carefully on the winding road as he drove. The heater roared on full blast, filling the car with hot stale air.
Beside him, Jude fidgeted about for a while, then felt for the seat adjustment and started reclining his backrest. ‘I need to sleep,’ he said. ‘Wake me when we get to Oxfordshire.’
‘We’re not going there,’ Ben said, and steeled himself for what was coming.
Jude sat up in his seat. ‘What are you talking about? Where are we going?’
‘I can’t take you back home, Jude.’
‘I don’t understand. You said you’d come to fetch me.’
‘That’s right. But I didn’t say where to.’
Jude’s brow furrowed. ‘Hold on a minute—’
‘Listen, I haven’t told you everything.’
‘So tell me.’
‘This isn’t easy for me either,’ Ben said.
‘What?’
Ben glanced away from the road and looked him in the eye. ‘Your parents’ death wasn’t an accident, Jude.’
‘But you just told me they died in a crash,’ Jude replied, aghast.
‘They did. But somebody else caused it. Deliberately.’
‘You’re saying they were murdered?’ Jude burst out. ‘But why?’
‘Because of your dad’s work.’
‘He was murdered because he was a vicar?’
‘No, something else he and some other people were working on. Some kind of secret project that got them into trouble with some bad people. People who obviously mean harm to your family.’
‘What secret project?’ Jude yelled. ‘What bad people? He was a vicar! This is total bullshit! What are you, some kind of fucking nutter?’
‘I wish I was,’ Ben said evenly. ‘I wish none of this were true. But whether you believe me or not, your dad would have wanted me to keep you safe. He knew he was in trouble, and he asked for my help.’
‘Why?’ Jude demanded.
‘Because helping people is what I do,’ Ben said. ‘And that’s why, until I figure out what’s happening and who these people are, we’re not going back.’
‘I have to go back! I have to see them.’
‘No, Jude.’
‘What about the funeral?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ben said.
Jude’s eyes glistened in the darkness of the car. ‘You’re saying I can’t go to my own parents’ funeral?’
‘You can’t bring them back, whatever you do.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘So where is it you think you’re taking me?’
‘To France,’ Ben said. ‘I have a place in Normandy. You’ll be safe there.’
Jude glowered at him with the deepest suspicion. After a moment of silence he muttered, ‘They never once mentioned anybody called Ben.’
‘We knew each other a long time ago, before you were born. We were all at college together.’
Jude kept glowering at him. ‘And I’m supposed to accept that, without any evidence, and let you take me off to some place in France, just like that? No way. And besides,’ he added, ‘I can’t go anywhere because I don’t have my passport with me.’
‘So you swam all the way back from New Zealand, did you?’ Ben asked him. In a softer tone he said, ‘Listen, Jude. This’ll go a lot easier if you let me help you, all right?’
‘I don’t need your help. I need to get back home. Stop the car.’
Ben said nothing. He kept on driving.
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ Jude yelled. ‘I said stop the fucking car. Now!’
When Ben still didn’t reply, Jude made a grab for the steering wheel. Ben slapped his hand away and shoved him back in his seat. The dog started barking wildly. Jude lashed out. His fist connected with Ben’s jaw.
It was a solid punch, and for a moment, Ben reeled. Jude lunged at the steering wheel again, and Ben didn’t react in time to stop him yanking the Mazda violently off course. The wheels ploughed into the slush and mud at the side of the road and lost traction. The car went into a slide that Ben only just managed to control before they went spinning off the road and smashed into a dry stone wall. The Mazda slithered to a halt in the ditch and the engine stalled.
‘Well done,’ Ben said, rubbing his jaw where Jude had punched him. ‘That was really mature.’
Jude didn’t speak. Before Ben could stop him, he shoved open his door and leaped out of the car.
‘Jude!’ Ben shouted.
But Jude was off, racing away into the darkness. The dog sprang out of the car and went belting after him, barking excitedly as if this were some fun new game the two-leggeds were playing for his benefit.
Ben swore furiously and flung open the driver’s door. ‘Jude!’ he yelled. ‘Jude!’ His voice sounded flat, muffled by the impenetrable mist.
‘Fuck it,’ he muttered. There was nothing for it but to go after him. Ben broke into a sprint. The mossy, rocky terrain sloped steeply upwards from the road. Jude was already lost in the smoky fog, and Ben was terrified of losing track of him. He ran faster. As an icy gust parted the mist for a moment, he caught sight of him up ahead, darting over the craggy landscape like a man demented. Ben called his name again. Jude didn’t look back, and then he was lost in another swirl of mist.
Ben kept running, scrambling up a rough sheep track that carried him steeply upward, stones and dirt sliding underfoot. Had Jude come this way? Ben paused, listening – then heard the dog bark from somewhere beneath him and to the left, and realised that Jude had taken a different path. Ben peered down the slope and spotted him twenty yards away, just visible through the mist. Jude had skidded to a halt, his progress blocked by thick brambles and a mound of enormous moss-covered rocks that must have come down in a landslide centuries earlier.
Jude hadn’t seen Ben standing above him. He hesitated, glanced back, then seemed to decide that he had to clamber over the rocks, as though convinced that there was a perfect escape route or a handy getaway car waiting for him on the other side.
Ben raced down the slope, and before Jude managed to scramble more than a few feet up the rocks, he’d grabbed him tightly by the arms and hauled him down to the ground. ‘Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?’
Jude wriggled violently in Ben’s grip, showering him with foul curses as he tried to throw him off. Ben held him down tightly. ‘You’re determined to make this difficult for both of us, aren’t you?’
‘Let me go. You’re a fucking weirdo.’
‘And you’re a stubborn little bastard.’
That was when the first shot cracked off the rock just a few inches from Ben’s head.