Read Online Times of Trouble by Victoria Rollison - Free Book Online Page B

someone has a problem they need
sorted.’
    The visitors nodded.
Vince felt a sudden flare of irritation. The men were obviously
nervous, but did they have to look so spineless? He couldn't stand
wimps.
    ‘ Take those
ridiculous sunglasses off. I wanted you to come here so I could
firstly congratulate you on your excellent work. You saw a
situation might get out of hand, and you acted to ensure it
didn’t.’
    One of the men
started to relax, letting a small grin slip onto his face, enjoying
the praise. The other man, however, still looked petrified. Maybe
he heard the note of sarcasm. Or maybe he knew about these
‘meetings’, and how unlikely it was they had been summoned to the
beach house for a pat on the back.
    ‘ Secondly, I would
like to ask you whose idea it was to dispose of the target in front
of so many witnesses?’
    The small grin
disappeared. The men's eyes met, each urging the other to say
something. The seconds ticked by, and neither of them found an
answer. They each secretly blamed the other.
    ‘ I had a suspicion we
might have this problem, two mute men. Don’t worry. I won't hold it
against one of you. I’ll just hold it against both of
you.’
    Before either of them
had time to protest, Vince saw Jared appear on the deck. His right
hand man always had impeccable timing. Sometimes it was like he
could read Vince's mind. Jared was older than Vince, and shorter
and thinner, with an impassive face. He was, as always, dressed in
a suit, which today looked incongruous at the beach.
    ‘ Jared, good to see
you,’ said the one with the sunglasses – now in his pocket, relief
in his voice. But Jared didn’t react. He held a gun in his hand,
with a silencer on the end of it. The silencer was probably
unnecessary, since the beach house was so isolated. But this was
another old habit Vince insisted on keeping up. Jared lifted the
gun, directing it at the face of the more timid of the two men, who
had gone as white as a sheet.
    ‘ What are you doing?’
In his panic, he suddenly had his voice back. His eyes were frozen
on the gun.
    ‘ The witnesses didn’t
see how she got on the tracks. The news, the police, they all said
it was just an accident, she must have tripped. Honest, it was a
clean hit.’
    ‘ So you watch the
news do you?’ Vince asked. His tone was patronising. ‘But do you
read the newspaper? Obviously not.’
    He reached for the
paper that lay at the end of the table, and flipped to the second
page. He looked at an article for a moment, reading the first few
lines to himself, the silence excruciating for the frightened
men.
    Then he started to
read aloud, his voice emotionless: ‘Police are yet to identify the
woman who was struck by a train at Central Station yesterday
afternoon. Although police initially assumed her death to be a
tragic accident, subsequent investigations, witness statements and
evidence at the scene suggest she may have been pushed onto the
tracks. Police are now treating the death as highly suspicious.
There is no known motive or suspects, but police are anxious to
interview two men who were seen with the woman moments before she
fell. If members of the public have any information, please phone
Crimestoppers....’
    He looked up from the
paper. The two men stared at him, their faces white, their eyes
filled with terror. Jared took a step towards them. His voice was
cold and clear.
    ‘ So, as you’ve heard,
I’m afraid you couldn’t call that a clean hit. This is a clean
hit.’
    One bullet each,
straight into the forehead. His experience was obvious in the speed
of his actions. The two men slumped backwards, their chairs close
enough to the edge of the deck to ensure the bodies hit only sand,
not polished wood. Neither required a second bullet. Vince watched
as Jared efficiently dragged the bodies down the side of the house,
heaving them into the boot of the car they had arrived in. Then he
washed his hands at the tap and joined Vince on the
deck.
    ‘ Any news