Read Online The Far Side of the Sun by Kate Furnivall - Free Book Online
Authors: Kate Furnivall
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second.
‘The chickens were my warning?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
‘And you expected me to lie down and keep my mouth shut? To do nothing?’ She was advancing on him now, a pulse pumping at her throat.
A bullet hit the sand in front of her feet. It shattered the silence of the bay and sent a flock of gulls wheeling up into the air with a clatter of wings.
‘No further.’ The gun pointed at her chest.
‘Or what? You’ll kill me? You’re going to do that anyway. Like you killed Morrell, I presume. And Sir Harry too? Or was that Christie who… ?’
She saw his eyes narrow a fraction and knew he was about to pull the trigger.
‘Why, Hector? What’s this about? Tell me that much, at least.’
‘What do you think it’s about, Ella? Money. Everything is always about money.’ He gave her a crooked half-smile. ‘Or love.’
The way he said the word
love
. It had claw marks on it.
‘You know about me and… ?’
‘Detective Sergeant Calder? Of course I know. I’ve had you followed.’
Her mouth was dry and words were stumbling on her lips but she tried to talk to him the way she would talk to the old Hector.
‘Don’t do this, Hector. Don’t make things worse for yourself. I am your friend and you know that Reggie and I will do all we can to help you.’
‘Nice try, Ella. But don’t waste your breath. You would tighten the noose around my neck yourself, let’s not fool ourselves.’ He was sweating. ‘Now get down on your knees and say your prayers.’
Ella didn’t move. ‘Sir Harry was right. Gold has rotted your soul.’
‘Like your lover is rotting yours,’ he sneered and stiffened himself to pull the trigger. His mouth tensed and his eyes were no more than slits. She felt a flicker of satisfaction that he was not finding it easy.
‘No!’ a voice bellowed behind her. A great roar of sound charged down on to the beach from the trees and a shadow plunged towards her, racing over the sand. ‘No! Throw down the gun. Now!’
Hector froze for the split second Ella needed to swing round and see Dan coming towards her like a bull. The sight of him, the sound of him, the sheer physical presence of him on the beach wrenched all fear for herself out of her.
‘Dan, don’t, he’ll kill —’
The gun fired. The sound of the shot ripped through her. Then she saw Dan’s knees buckle, heard a strange whistle of thin sound escape from his lungs, felt the vibration under her feet as the full weight of him hit the sand.
Ella couldn’t scream. Couldn’t find any air to breathe. She threw herself on her knees beside him and clutched her hand over the hole in his shirt, as if she could push the blood back inside his chest.
‘Dan!’
She saw his eyes glaze over. Witnessed the life seep out of him into the grains of sand beneath and only then did she start to scream. The blow to her head, when it came, was a relief.
She pedalled fast. But the five-mile ride out of town to Portman Cay felt more like fifty, because each minute seemed like an hour while her mind filled with images of the danger Ella was in. The road was hot and parched, pockmarked with holes, and Dodie had to squint against the glare as the morning sun climbed above the tall pines. An occasional cart or car rumbled towards her, kicking up dust, and she took it as a good sign. No dead bodies on the roadside up ahead. No panic.
If she hadn’t told Ella about Portman Cay.
What then?
What had she done?
No.
Not this.
Not another death. Through the web of trees Dodie saw the body, a dark smear on the white sand, saw the gulls and ran screaming at them down the slope, arms whirling with rage. The birds abandoned their prize at the last possible moment, screeching up into the skies and Dodie hurled an impotent handful of sand after them.
No. Not this.
A moan rose out of her as she dropped to her knees beside the big policeman and flapped her hands over the black ball of flies that whirred and hummed, crawling on the wound
‘The chickens were my warning?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
‘And you expected me to lie down and keep my mouth shut? To do nothing?’ She was advancing on him now, a pulse pumping at her throat.
A bullet hit the sand in front of her feet. It shattered the silence of the bay and sent a flock of gulls wheeling up into the air with a clatter of wings.
‘No further.’ The gun pointed at her chest.
‘Or what? You’ll kill me? You’re going to do that anyway. Like you killed Morrell, I presume. And Sir Harry too? Or was that Christie who… ?’
She saw his eyes narrow a fraction and knew he was about to pull the trigger.
‘Why, Hector? What’s this about? Tell me that much, at least.’
‘What do you think it’s about, Ella? Money. Everything is always about money.’ He gave her a crooked half-smile. ‘Or love.’
The way he said the word
love
. It had claw marks on it.
‘You know about me and… ?’
‘Detective Sergeant Calder? Of course I know. I’ve had you followed.’
Her mouth was dry and words were stumbling on her lips but she tried to talk to him the way she would talk to the old Hector.
‘Don’t do this, Hector. Don’t make things worse for yourself. I am your friend and you know that Reggie and I will do all we can to help you.’
‘Nice try, Ella. But don’t waste your breath. You would tighten the noose around my neck yourself, let’s not fool ourselves.’ He was sweating. ‘Now get down on your knees and say your prayers.’
Ella didn’t move. ‘Sir Harry was right. Gold has rotted your soul.’
‘Like your lover is rotting yours,’ he sneered and stiffened himself to pull the trigger. His mouth tensed and his eyes were no more than slits. She felt a flicker of satisfaction that he was not finding it easy.
‘No!’ a voice bellowed behind her. A great roar of sound charged down on to the beach from the trees and a shadow plunged towards her, racing over the sand. ‘No! Throw down the gun. Now!’
Hector froze for the split second Ella needed to swing round and see Dan coming towards her like a bull. The sight of him, the sound of him, the sheer physical presence of him on the beach wrenched all fear for herself out of her.
‘Dan, don’t, he’ll kill —’
The gun fired. The sound of the shot ripped through her. Then she saw Dan’s knees buckle, heard a strange whistle of thin sound escape from his lungs, felt the vibration under her feet as the full weight of him hit the sand.
Ella couldn’t scream. Couldn’t find any air to breathe. She threw herself on her knees beside him and clutched her hand over the hole in his shirt, as if she could push the blood back inside his chest.
‘Dan!’
She saw his eyes glaze over. Witnessed the life seep out of him into the grains of sand beneath and only then did she start to scream. The blow to her head, when it came, was a relief.
She pedalled fast. But the five-mile ride out of town to Portman Cay felt more like fifty, because each minute seemed like an hour while her mind filled with images of the danger Ella was in. The road was hot and parched, pockmarked with holes, and Dodie had to squint against the glare as the morning sun climbed above the tall pines. An occasional cart or car rumbled towards her, kicking up dust, and she took it as a good sign. No dead bodies on the roadside up ahead. No panic.
If she hadn’t told Ella about Portman Cay.
What then?
What had she done?
No.
Not this.
Not another death. Through the web of trees Dodie saw the body, a dark smear on the white sand, saw the gulls and ran screaming at them down the slope, arms whirling with rage. The birds abandoned their prize at the last possible moment, screeching up into the skies and Dodie hurled an impotent handful of sand after them.
No. Not this.
A moan rose out of her as she dropped to her knees beside the big policeman and flapped her hands over the black ball of flies that whirred and hummed, crawling on the wound
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