Rough Cut: Rosie Gilmour 6 (32 page)

Vanner shot him a sardonic smile.

‘Aw, don’t insult my fucking intelligence, mate. I know exactly what you were going to do, even before that little cunt Paul told me.’

Nikki looked at Julie, shocked.

‘Paul’s a fucking wee grass, Johnny,’ Gordy protested. ‘I knew he’d done something and was going behind my back. I knew he’d phoned you. That’s why I plugged the cunt the other day. But I did it to protect us all. I was going to tell you about it. He was a loose cannon. Couldn’t be trusted.’

‘Paul? You killed Paul?’ Nikki’s voice trembled.

‘He was her husband,’ Julie said.

‘I know he was,’ Gordy spat. ‘Who gives a fuck! He’s a wee troublemaker. A wee rat’s bastard . . . Hey, come on, Johnny. Let’s just calm the fuck down here. Put the heavy metal down and let’s sort this.’ He glanced at the case. ‘Come on. You’ve got the stuff. We’ve got a deal, pal.’

‘I’m not your fucking pal.’

‘So what you going to do here? Eh? Bump the fucking lot of us off? Even the bastard cripple in the wheelchair?’

‘Shut it!’

*

‘Get off my fucking land.’

Rosie’s eyes were closed and for a second she imagined she’d dropped into a dream when she’d rested her head back to break the monotony of waiting for Julie’s text. But no, this was really happening. There was a single barrel shotgun pointed at her window.

‘Oh fuck!’ Matt said. ‘Where the hell did he come from? I nodded off.’

‘Sssh. Jesus Christ! It’s the farmer!’ Rosie turned her body towards the window, a pleading look on her face as she raised her hands in surrender.

‘Get off my fucking land.’

‘Look, mister! Listen! Let me just roll the window down a second. Please. We . . . We’re not here to do you any harm. Sorry. We got lost.’

‘Liar. Who the fuck are you?’ He took a step back as Rosie slowly lowered the window.

‘Rosie. Just tell him, for fuck’s sake. He might use that thing,’ Matt muttered.

She heard it, but ignored him. She couldn’t tell him who they were. Not right now. Who knows what he would do? It was too hard to explain. Too long a story when you’re looking down the barrel of a gun. But she’d better say
something – and fast – because the click of the gun being cocked made her heart miss a beat. Jesus! This silver-haired, middle-aged man, who wouldn’t have been out of place selling his homegrown produce at a farm shop, had a deranged look in his eye.

‘Okay.’ She glanced at Matt and muttered at him to start the engine. ‘We’re going. We’re nobody, honest. We don’t want any trouble. We’re going right now.’

‘You’ve got three seconds to tell me who you are.’

His finger wavered over the trigger, ready to squeeze.

‘Look. Actually . . . Er . . . We’re journalists. We . . . We’re from the
Post
. We’re on an investigation. The girls in your house—’ Rosie hated herself for saying it, but right now she had no choice.

‘Them girls have got a gun pointed at them right now in my house. But my son’s in there. What the fuck is going on? Who are these bastards?’

‘I . . . I don’t know. And that’s the truth. But if you’ve seen someone with a gun in the house, then I think we should call the cops.’ She showed him her mobile.

He pushed the gun into the space on the window almost touching Rosie’s head.

‘No! No cops! Someone’s got a gun pointed at my son. No fucking cops! I’m dealing with this, you just get off my fucking land! Now!’

‘Okay. No cops. We’re going. We’re going right now. Come on, Matt. Let’s move.’

Matt reversed the car a fraction so he could get back onto the tight road and the farmer stood back.

‘I’m sorry. Really. Sorry. We’re going. We won’t phone the cops. I promise.’

Matt’s wheels kicked up mud at the farmer as they spun and he tried to control the car as they took off.

‘Christ! There’s mud all over him. I hope he doesn’t shoot,’ Matt said, looking in his rear-view mirror.

‘Just drive, Matt. Let’s get as far away from here as we can.’

‘You going to phone the cops?’

‘Shit! I don’t know. Something’s gone seriously tits-up in that house, but if I involve the cops right now, they’ll all get done – Julie and Nikki as well.’

‘But if someone’s already got a gun pointed at them, they might all get
killed
, Rosie.’

Rosie bit her lip and looked out of the side window, trying to peer across the field to where the two farmhouses stood side by side. She could see the big black Jag that she knew belonged to Gordy MacLean. What the hell had gone wrong?

‘Matt. Listen. I think we should park the car somewhere and go on foot.’

‘What? Into the fucking line of fire? Are you serious? How many guns do you need pointing at you, Rosie, to tell you the fucking game’s up?’

‘I know, I know. But if we could get close enough to see,
but far enough to be hidden. You know what I mean? That wee outhouse at the bottom of the road. We could park there and nobody can see us from the house. We just have to cross a bit of the field and then we can see.’

‘Then what, Rosie?’

‘We might be able to witness it. You might get a great picture. Come on.’

‘Fuck! This is fucking reckless! Totally crazy. We might get killed.’

‘We won’t. They won’t be able to see us. We were even thinking about parking down there when we did the recce, if you remember, but thought it was too close to the main road up to the house. But we could make it on foot. The farmer won’t come back now. Let’s just dump the car down there.’

Matt shook his head and gritted his teeth as he made his way down the bumpy road. He pulled in and picked up a camera – the lightest one he had.

‘Right. Come on. But when this is over, I might actually punch you right in the face, Gilmour.’

Rosie said nothing. She opened the door and stepped into the road. They went towards a fence and climbed over into the field, their feet immediately sinking into the mud and slush.

‘Fuck me, go gently,’ Matt said. ‘We could get swallowed up by a bog.’

‘Come on, we’ll be fine. We’ve only fifty yards to go till
we get to the outhouse. We can hide there.’ Rosie’s feet squelched and sank in the mud as she struggled to walk.

*

James was at the back of the house, sliding along the wall towards the porch. He’d considered just going to the front door and blasting it off with the shotgun. If Euan hadn’t been in there, he would have. But who knew what would happen if he did that? It was risky now trying to creep in like this, but he knew every corner of this house like the back of his hand. He could get in quietly, slip down the back hall and just appear from the kitchen. That’s where he needed to be. Slowly, he eased open the handle of the porch door and he was in. He stood for a second next to the washing machine and chest freezer, barely breathing. He could hear shouting and arguing. One voice had a Glasgow accent and the other one was from somewhere in the north of England. Whoever these guys were, they were arguing over money, and he thought he heard someone say diamonds. What the hell had he done renting his house to these two women? They’d looked like ordinary girls to him, and his wife had thought maybe they had been beaten by their husbands and were getting away. He never should have allowed them in. And he should have phoned the cops. But he couldn’t. Only
he
knew why he could never do that, and he would take that secret to his grave. Just save Euan, he told himself. The rest are scum. Like the bastards who left his son for dead that night. They got their comeuppance and
these bastards would too. Just a few more steps. Then he was in, silently standing in the kitchen. He clicked on the gun and everyone in the room froze. They looked at him as though he were a ghost. Euan’s face was grey and bloody, and the sight of him sent such a shock through him he had trouble stopping himself from firing the gun.

‘Get fucking out! All of you! Get out of my house, and off my land!’ He raised the gun and pointed it.

Then suddenly a gun went off. Not his, but immediately the big guy in front of him with the shaven head slumped to the floor. Another rapid shot and the man next to him in the Crombie coat hit the ground, blood spreading across his chest. It was happening so fast it was almost a blur, but he was able to see the shooter. It was the driver of the bastard who had insulted Euan the other day. He raised the shotgun to his shoulder and pointed it at the man, but the driver was aiming a pistol straight at him. I should blow your head off right now, James told himself. But suddenly, the driver’s boss pulled a handgun out of his coat and pressed it against Euan’s head.

‘Thanks for that, Terry,’ the big man said. ‘I couldn’t have dropped that pair of cunts better myself.’ He turned to James. ‘Now, listen, you old prick . . . You either get to fuck back to the farm and sit on your hands, or this fucking retard gets it right now.’

‘Stop!’ He lowered his shotgun. ‘Leave him!’

‘Put the fucking gun down and get out.’

‘I’m taking my boy with me.’

‘No you’re not. He’s staying right here until we’re gone, and if you move a fucking muscle, I’ll blow his head off.’

James felt his legs shaking, his whole body trembling, even the muscles in his face twitching. He saw the anger and desperation in Euan’s eyes, and right now he’d have taken a bullet for him. He put his hands up.

‘Okay. I’m going.’ He began to back away slowly, placing the gun on the worktop. He glanced at the two women as he was leaving. Nikki’s eyes were swollen and tear-stained, but Julie’s were blazing with rage.

‘Just keep doing that and you might survive,’ the big man said.

James kept walking back slowly until he was out of the back door. Then he heard a heavy thud and a painful scream from Euan.

‘What the fuck you doing, Gordy?’ It sounded like Julie. ‘Leave the poor guy alone. He’s got nothing to do with this. Come on, let’s just get to fuck out of here.’

James could barely walk as he made his way to the barn. He was heading to get his other shotgun, the double-barrelled one he’d bought at an auction last year, in case of emergencies.

*

Rosie flinched and looked at Matt when they heard the bang.

‘That’s a gunshot. I’m sure of it,’ Matt said.

‘Christ! I know. What the hell’s going on up there? Can you see anything through your long lens?’

‘No . . . Nothing. It’s all happening inside. But they’ll come out, that’s all we can hope for. Because before you suggest it, we’re not going to go up there and announce ourselves.’

‘Don’t be daft. I wasn’t going to suggest
we
, pal. You’re the one who takes the pix.’

‘Aye. That’ll be right.’

‘Only joking. We’ll just sit tight. I hope to Christ Julie and Nikki are alright.’

James stayed in the barn, trying to breathe deeply to calm himself down as his trembling fingers loaded two cartridges into the shotgun chambers. He had to do this. Just hold your nerve, he whispered to himself. They would come out the front door towards the Jag. He knew exactly where to go. He was ready. He crept round to the front of the house and hid behind the big stone coal bunker. He waited, his heart thudding against his ribs. Then after a few moments, he saw the driver come out of the house, carrying an aluminium attaché case. He put it in the back seat of the car, started up the engine and went back inside the house. James watched as the door opened again, and someone pushed Euan outside in the wheelchair. It was the driver again. Then the big bastard they’d called Gordy came out behind them. James waited, held his breath. What about the girls? Surely they were all part of the same
gang. Maybe they’d double-crossed them and that’s why they were on the run? None of that mattered now. James felt his hands begin to steady as he gripped the shotgun. He controlled his breath. The driver went towards the car, pushing the wheelchair, then let go of it, and it rolled down the small incline and came to a halt just behind the car. There was a space of about six feet or so between the wheelchair and the car. Were they going to take Euan with them? Stuff him in the boot? If they did, he was totally powerless. He watched as the driver got into the car. He had to get the direction of the shot right. If he got it wrong, Euan would be hit with buckshot. Then he saw Gordy, looking all around him, suddenly aiming his gun at Euan’s head. James bit the inside of his cheek till it bled, trying to keep from shouting. He watched Gordy’s face break into a grin as he opened the passenger door and backed in, sitting down, half hanging out, his gun still pointed at Euan. They weren’t taking him, but they might shoot him just for sheer badness. James stood up and took aim in one seamless movement. Then he fired. The windscreen shattered into a million shards, and Euan was hit with flying glass as he threw himself out of the wheelchair on to the ground behind the car. James rushed forward. He could see what was left of the two bastards – not much. But he fired the second barrel, then threw down the shotgun and broke down.

As the second shot was fired, Nikki and Julie closed their eyes tight, bracing themselves for the next blast. This is it, Nikki thought. If big Gordy walked in that door, they’d be next. If it was the farmer who’d been shooting, they could still be next.

‘Dad! Dad!’

Julie opened her eyes, straining her neck to see if she could get a glimpse out of the window. But the rope cutting into her wrists was too tight for her to move.

‘I’m alright, son.’

Nikki opened her eyes.

‘Oh Christ, Julie. Is he going to kill
us
now?’

‘Sssh. No,’ Julie whispered. ‘I don’t think he’s a psycho. He only shot them to protect his son. Let me handle this.’

‘Christ, Julie. It’s because “I let you handle this” that we’re in this mess.’

‘Listen. Just trust me. I think the farmer’s a good man.’

‘What if he phones the cops?’

‘With four dead bodies? No chance. If he’d been going to get the cops, he’d have done it before he started shooting people.’

They both froze as the farmer suddenly appeared in the doorway. His eyes were glassy, as though he was in another world.