The Lethal Target Page 7

  ‘It goes up and comes out at the back of a store cupboard in the kitchen,’ said Rona.

  ‘Right,’ said Jake. He looked at Lauren. ‘You up for this?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course,’ said Lauren.

  ‘I’ll help as well,’ said Rona.

  Jake and Lauren exchanged doubtful looks.

  ‘These people are dangerous,’ said Jake. ‘Remember what happened to your uncle.’

  ‘I am a Watcher,’ Rona reminded them firmly. ‘It’s my job.’

  Jake saw Lauren hesitate, then she said to Rona, ‘OK.’

  Rona shone her torch on her watch.

  ‘We’d better be getting back,’ she said. ‘Have a word with Robbie before he starts doing anything silly.’

  They crawled back through the low tunnel, pushed the timber cover back into place over the entrance to the inner cave, and then made their way out into the sunlight again.

  ‘It must have been hard work being a smuggler,’ commented Jake, wiping the rock dust and wet sand off his clothes.

  The sound of Rona’s mobile ringing startled them. Rona checked the number. ‘It’s Mum,’ she said. She clicked on, and listened for a few moments, then said, ‘Yes, they’re with me. I’ll tell her. Thanks, Mum.’

  She hung up, and Jake could tell it was bad news.

  ‘Robbie?’ he asked.

  Rona shook her head.

  ‘Some people from the Department of Immigration have just arrived,’ she said. She turned to Lauren. ‘They’re looking for you.’

  Jake and Lauren looked at one another, shocked.

  ‘They know!’ said Jake.

  ‘Know what?’ asked Rona.

  Lauren hesitated, then she said, ‘I’m here illegally.’

  Rona laughed.

  ‘You and half the workers in Glasgow and Edinburgh,’ she said.

  ‘No, I mean really illegally,’ said Lauren. ‘I was sent into exile in New Zealand.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Rona.

  ‘Because of the books,’ said Lauren. ‘The ones from the Order of Malichea.’

  ‘We found one,’ added Jake. ‘We lost it. The government took it off us, and they sent Laur . . . Helen away to stop us finding any more.’

  Rona turned to Lauren.

  ‘He called you Laur,’ she said.

  Lauren nodded.

  ‘My real name. Lauren.’

  ‘Lauren Cooper?’

  Lauren shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘But it won’t be fair to tell you more about me, otherwise you could be charged with being an accomplice. The less you know, the better for you.’

  ‘What will happen to you now? With the Immigration people?’

  ‘If I’m lucky, they’ll send me back to New Zealand,’ said Lauren.

  ‘If she’s not, she’ll go to jail on some false charge,’ said Jake with a groan.

  ‘You can’t go back,’ said Rona. ‘Not just yet. We need to work out how to get you off the island. Until then, you’re going to have to hide somewhere.’

  ‘In the cave?’ suggested Jake, pointing at the cave they’d just come out of.

  ‘No.’ Rona shook her head. ‘There’s always a chance you might be found. The best place would be Uncle Dougie’s boat shed. It’s got a lock on it and you’ll be comfortable there.’ She patted her pocket. ‘I’ve got a key. So has Robbie.’ She smiled. ‘Uncle Dougie let us use it as a hidey-hole.’

  ‘Is that the place near where Dougie was painting his boats?’ asked Jake.

  ‘That’s the one.’ Rona nodded. ‘No one ever goes in it. You should be safe there until we can get you away.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lauren.

  Rona smiled.

  ‘It looks like we’re all in this together,’ she said. ‘So we’ve got to help one another.’

  ‘I’d better get back to the guest house and keep these people talking, while you two go off to the hut,’ said Jake. ‘We don’t want them roaming around the island looking for you until Rona’s got you safely hidden.’

  Rona looked troubled.

  ‘So much happening,’ she said. ‘Uncle Dougie killed. Immigration looking for you. Are these books worth it?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Lauren firmly. ‘They really are.’

  Chapter 14

  A man and a woman were waiting in reception as Jake walked in through the main door of the guest house. They headed towards Jake as he made for the stairs.

  ‘Mr Jacob Wells?’ asked the man.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jake.

  The man produced what looked like a warrant card.

  ‘Hector Manvers, Department of Immigration,’ he announced. ‘This is my colleague, Susan Webb.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said Jake. He frowned. ‘Immigration? I can’t see how that affects me. I was born in the UK.’

  ‘We’re not here to see you, but your companion,’ said Webb. ‘The woman who calls herself Helen Cooper.’

  Jake stared at them, doing his best to look incredulous.

  ‘Calls herself?’ he repeated, sounding bewildered. Then he laughed. ‘Yes, in the same way that you call yourself Susan Webb.’

  ‘Could you tell us where she is?’ asked Manvers.

  ‘Here, I hope,’ said Jake. ‘Upstairs, in our room.’

  ‘She isn’t,’ said Manvers.

  Jake frowned.

  ‘That’s strange,’ he said. ‘She said she wanted to get back, so she left before I did. I wanted to stay and look at the view a little longer.’

  ‘Did she say why she wanted to come back before you did?’ asked Webb.

  ‘She said she wanted to write some postcards for friends back home,’ said Jake. ‘She’s from New Zealand.’

  Manvers studied Jake, suspicion written all over his face.

  ‘Is that what she says?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s what she says, and that’s what her passport says,’ countered Jake.

  ‘Oh, you checked her passport, did you?’ asked Webb quickly.

  Damn, thought Jake. Don’t give them too much information, he warned himself.

  ‘No,’ said Jake. ‘We showed each other our passports to have a laugh at our photographs. Have you ever seen a passport photograph that didn’t make anyone look a complete idiot?’ He studied the pair of them back. ‘Mind, in your job, I suppose you see a lot of passports.’

  ‘Where exactly did you leave the woman calling herself Helen Cooper?’ asked Webb.

  ‘Look, will you stop describing her as “the woman calling herself Helen Cooper”!’ snapped Jake irritably.

  ‘Where did you leave her?’ pressed Webb.

  ‘I didn’t leave her at all,’ said Jake. ‘I told you, she left first.’

  ‘Where from?’ demanded Manvers.

  ‘Out on the cliffs, near the loch,’ said Jake.

  Manvers and Webb exchanged looks, then Manvers nodded and said, ‘We may need to talk to you again.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere,’ said Jake. ‘Anyway, what’s all this about? What do Immigration want with Helen?’

  ‘We’ll tell you that after we’ve discussed it with Miss Cooper,’ said Manvers.

  ‘Yes, well, right now I’m a bit worried about her,’ Jake told them. ‘She should have been back here by now.’ He headed for the main door. ‘I’m going to see if I can find out what’s happened to her.’

  Manvers moved quickly, joining Jake as he reached the door.

  ‘It might be a good idea if I came with you,’ he said. ‘Just in case there’s been an accident.’

  ‘Yes.’ Jake nodded. ‘Good idea. What about your colleague?’

  ‘She’ll stay here, in case Miss Cooper returns while we’re away.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Jake. ‘Let’s go.’

  Jake walked out of the guest house, followed by Manvers. He headed along the cliff path towards the dig, and the cottage where the Russians were staying, keeping away from the shore and the path down to the boat hut. After his slip about the passport,
Jake decided his best course of action was to say nothing; just respond when Manvers asked a question. But Manvers turned out to be a dour and reticent type, giving nothing away. As a result, their walk along the cliff path was done in silence. Jake used the walk to scan around the area, pretending to be searching for any sign of Lauren. Manvers, for his part, kept his attention on Jake. He obviously didn’t believe that Lauren, or ‘Helen Cooper’, was going to be found anywhere on this walk.

  He’s too clever by half, thought Jake warily.

  As they neared the wire fence surrounding the dig, Jake gestured towards it.

  ‘I’m surprised you’re not taking a look at those Russians,’ said Jake. ‘I would have thought that was more valid than coming all this way just to check on Helen.’

  ‘All the people involved in the dig have Russian passports and valid visas,’ said Manvers curtly. ‘We’ve checked.’

  They continued walking until they reached the far headland. Jake turned to look at Manvers, doing his best to put on a worried expression.

  ‘I don’t understand this,’ he said. ‘We should have seen her by now.’

  ‘Are you sure she was here?’ asked Manvers.

  ‘Of course I’m sure!’ said Jake. ‘There aren’t that many places around here!’ He went to the edge of the cliff and looked down. ‘This is where Dougie MacClain was found,’ he muttered.

  ‘I understand it was you and Miss Cooper who found the body,’ said Manvers.

  ‘Yes.’ Jake gestured down to the shore. ‘With that happening, you can understand why I’m worried about Helen.’

  ‘You think she might have fallen off the cliff?’ asked Manvers. ‘Couldn’t she have gone for a walk in some other direction?’

  ‘If that was the case, why did she head off back to the guest house first?’ demanded Jake.

  Manvers’ face remained impassive.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said coldly. ‘You tell me.’

  ‘I can’t!’ exploded Jake. He turned inland and looked at the expanse of heath and heather. ‘She could have fallen down a crag or something. She could be lying somewhere helpless!’

  ‘In that case I think it would be a good idea to call in search and rescue,’ said Manvers calmly. ‘Do a thorough search of the area.’

  Which would mean looking in every small outbuilding, realised Jake. Including Dougie MacClain’s boat hut. But hopefully he’d be able to get a message to Lauren to give her time to get away from there and hide somewhere else. Perhaps in the secret tunnel up to the cottage where the Russians were staying.

  ‘Yes.’ Jake nodded. ‘That’s what we have to do.’ He turned and set off back the way they’d come. ‘I’ll talk to Alec MacClain. He’ll set things in motion.’

  The walk back to the guest house was at a much faster pace than the walk out, Jake made sure of that, determined to show the urgency he felt about getting the search for ‘Helen Cooper’ under way. He could tell, however, that Manvers didn’t seem impressed. The Immigration officer remained silent all the way back.

  Susan Webb was standing outside in the parking area as they returned, and Manvers broke away from Jake and went to her. They put their heads together and engaged in a whispered conversation, and then the two of them went off again but in a different direction. Jake felt a bolt of fear. Had Webb found something out? Had she discovered where Lauren was hiding?

  As Jake entered the guest house, he ran into Alec and Jeannie MacClain. The worried-looking couple had obviously been waiting for him.

  ‘Can I have a word with you, Mr Wells?’ asked Alec MacClain.

  ‘Of course,’ said Jake.

  ‘Outside would be best,’ Alec MacClain added. ‘Less chance of being overheard.’

  Jake followed them through the guest house, and out the back door into the rear garden. It was obvious that both were under stress. Jeannie MacClain, in particular, looked very strained. Alec followed them past the raised beds with vegetables to the compost bins, a good distance from the house. Alec turned to Jake, his expression grim.

  ‘What are you up to with our children?’ he demanded.

  ‘Both Rona and Robbie have come back in strange moods,’ said Jeannie. ‘Robbie’s angry and Rona . . . Well, Rona’s suddenly very nervous and secretive.’

  Jake hesitated. This was no time for lying, Alec and Jeannie would see through him easily. And the MacClains were already involved.

  ‘It’s about the hidden books,’ said Jake. ‘The Order of Malichea.’

  Alec and Jeannie exchanged concerned looks.

  ‘I know that your brother, Dougie, was a Watcher,’ Jake continued. ‘And that Rona and Robbie are too.’

  ‘But that’s over now,’ said Jeannie. ‘The Russians have got the book. Robbie told us.’

  ‘It’s not over,’ said Jake, shaking his head. ‘We plan to get the book back off the Russians.’

  Jeannie frowned.

  ‘Why have Immigration turned up?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ admitted Jake. ‘It’s all a bit too much of a coincidence, if you ask me . . .’

  He was cut off by a scream, followed by a girl’s voice from inside the house calling: ‘Help! Help!’

  ‘That’s Rona!’ said Alec MacClain, and he rushed towards the guest house, closely followed by Jeannie and Jake.

  Robbie appeared from the side of the house, a look of concern on his face.

  ‘What’s happened?’ he demanded.

  But no one stopped to talk; Alec, Jeannie and Jake were running, into the house, then up the stairs to the first floor.

  Rona stood at the end of the short corridor. There was blood on her dress. At her feet lay the body of a man.

  ‘I thought he’d just fainted,’ said Rona. ‘Then I turned him over . . .’

  Alec and Jake had gone to the body. It was John Gordon, and his throat had been cut. Blood had gushed out and had soaked his clothes.

  ‘Jeannie, get the ambulance and the police,’ said Alec.

  As he spoke, Jeannie was already halfway down the stairs, running to the phone at the reception desk.

  First Dougie MacClain, now John Gordon, thought Jake.

  ‘What’s that in his hand?’ asked Robbie.

  They looked. A torn-off piece of material was clenched in Gordon’s closed left fist. Robbie shot a suspicious look at Jake.

  ‘That looks the same as your jacket,’ he said.

  Jake shook his head.

  ‘There are loads of jackets made of the same material,’ he said.

  ‘Not here,’ said Robbie. And suddenly he had snatched the key ring from his father’s belt and was moving swiftly towards Jake’s and Lauren’s room.

  ‘Hey!’ called Jake.

  ‘Robbie!’ called Alec.

  But Robbie had already unlocked the door of the room and rushed in. Jake hurried after him.

  ‘Now look!’ he protested. ‘You can’t just come in here and . . .’

  Robbie had thrown open the wardrobe door and was rummaging through the clothes hanging up. With a cry of triumph he pulled a jacket from its hanger.

  ‘There!’ he yelled, brandishing it.

  Jake looked at the jacket, stunned. There was a tear in the material, near the pocket.

  And it’ll match the one in Gordon’s hand, thought Jake with a deep sick feeling. I’m being framed!

  ‘Look, Dad!’ said Robbie, holding the jacket towards his father, pointing at the place where the material had been torn from it.

  ‘I didn’t do it,’ insisted Jake, turning to Alec MacClain. ‘This is a set-up.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ demanded Robbie. His face showed a mixture of anger and triumph. Turning to his father, he said, ‘I bet it was him who killed Dougie. Him and his girlfriend!’

  ‘No!’ protested Jake.

  There was the sound of a woman giving an angry shout from downstairs, and then the pounding of feet up the stairs. They hurried out of the room to see Pam Gordon arriving at the top of the stairs. She stopped when she saw
the dead body of her husband, and then moved purposefully towards him. Alec MacClain tried to step in her way, but she pushed him roughly aside. She knelt by the body, her face changing from pain to despair, and then deep deep anger, all in a few seconds.

  ‘He did it!’ shouted Robbie, pointing at Jake.

  Pam Gordon turned and looked up at Jake, and the hatred and anger in her eyes seared into him. If she could, she’d kill me right now, thought Jake.

  ‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t me!’

  ‘We all ought to go downstairs and wait for the police,’ said Alec MacClain.

  ‘I’m staying here with him,’ said Pam Gordon.

  Her tone was flat and obstinate. There was no way she was going to be moved from John Gordon’s body. Alec MacClain nodded, then he shepherded Jake, Rona and Robbie downstairs.

  Chapter 15

  Jake sat in the bar area, his mind in a whirl. Who had killed John Gordon? Someone who’d been able to get into his and Lauren’s room and tear a piece off his jacket to plant in Gordon’s hand. One of the MacClain family? They had the key to his room. No, Jake told himself dismissively. Not the MacClains. The Russians? But there had been no sign of any of the Russians around the guest house. But then a good assassin wouldn’t be spotted. They’d creep in, do the kill, then creep out again. And they’d have the tools to open a simple lock.

  What about Muir? Could it have been the American? He hadn’t been seen since he left that morning for a ramble over the countryside; but that didn’t mean he hadn’t doubled back, killed Gordon, and then slipped away again, unseen.

  He looked up as Alec MacClain came into the room.

  ‘I didn’t do it,’ he said. ‘Someone’s trying to frame me. I don’t know why, but they are.’

  ‘The police are on their way,’ said Alec.

  Jake nodded. They’d arrest him on suspicion, he was sure of that. After all, the only piece of evidence pointed to him being the killer. His main concern was Lauren. He needed to get a message to her, tell her what had happened. But he couldn’t leave the guest house, not until the police had been.

  Rona would tell her, he was sure. But what about Robbie? Robbie was dead sure that it had been Jake who’d killed Gordon; and now he was starting to think that meant Jake had also killed Dougie. Which meant he’d think that Lauren was also involved. Would Robbie give Lauren away to the police? Or to Manvers and Webb?