Hoping against hope that the youngster was the one member of his family who could swim, Daniel was robbed of the opportunity to attempt a rescue by the need to deal with Johnny who, though a little the worse for wear, was still on his feet and heading his way.
In his own slightly battered state, Daniel had no wish at all to be drawn into hand-to-hand combat with the bigger man, rock or no rock. He wasn’t at all confident that he could succeed where Shane had failed, even though he would have no scruples about using all the dirty tricks in his repertoire.
As Johnny started to move Daniel spoke two words to Taz.
‘Take ’im!’
Taz was only too willing. He’d been watching the fight in a fever of frustration, only his rigorous training keeping him at Daniel’s side, and now he shot forward like a bullet and fastened his jaws round the big man’s forearm, his thirty-eight kilos of muscle pulling Driscoll off-balance and dragging him to the ground.
The Traveller uttered a roar of pain and fury and, excited by the noise, Taz leaned back, tugging enthusiastically. Daniel saw Driscoll’s free hand scrabbling on the ground and moments later his fingers closed round another chunk of slate.
A couple of swift steps and Daniel put his booted foot firmly on the man’s wrist, removed the rock and flung it away into the long grass and brambles.
‘Get the fucking dog off me!’ Johnny demanded through clenched teeth.
‘Daniel!’ Zoe’s voice, high and panicky.
Daniel glanced across and saw her standing, knee deep, in the water.
‘Where is he? Daniel! I can’t see him!’
‘Shit!’ Daniel scanned the water’s surface but there was nothing aside from a few shining ripples to suggest that anything had disturbed it.
‘Call your bloody dog off! He’s breaking my fucking arm!’
Daniel came to a decision. The dog would be in far less danger of being clubbed if his jaws weren’t already engaged.
‘Taz. Out!’
With a final shake of his head, the German shepherd reluctantly unlocked his jaws but stayed poised just inches from his prisoner, licking his lips to rehydrate them.
‘Now, watch him.’
Driscoll wriggled back a few inches.
The dog moved forward by the same amount.
‘Stay still!’ Daniel warned. ‘And don’t even think about picking up another rock or he’ll go for your throat next time.’
It was a lie but the other man didn’t know that.
Driscoll froze.
Leaving him in the dog’s more than capable paws, Daniel turned back towards the pool. With a jolt he saw that Zoe had waded in waist deep, her coat floating on the surface, and was stroking the water with her hands as if by doing so she could clear it and see into its depths. Nothing else broke the black stillness.
‘Zoe! Get back!’ Daniel shouted, acutely aware of how steeply shelving the quarry sides were likely to be. He tore off his jacket, kicked off his shoes and went into the water in an arching dive, aiming a little to the side of where he had last seen Shane. If by any chance the lad was returning to the surface under his own steam, a head-on collision would be disastrous.
Even though Daniel was already soaked through, the water closing around him was shockingly cold. It was also completely and utterly dark.
He resurfaced and looked across at Zoe, who had retreated to knee depth. He held his hands up.
‘Where?’
‘I don’t know – there, I think.’
Daniel followed the line of Zoe’s pointing finger, upended in a duck-dive and kicked sharply for the depths.
The water rushed past his ears and his lungs immediately felt under pressure as he strained to see something, anything, in the inky black world below the surface. Keeping his arms outstretched, he kicked again, helplessly aware that he could miss Shane by inches and never know it.
As he went deeper, Daniel’s lungs began to burn, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He kicked once more, spreading his arms and fingers.
Nothing.
Could he risk another kick? How far under was he? How long would it take to get back up? He longed to empty his bursting lungs but knew, if he did so, the reflex action of his diaphragm would cause him to draw in water.
His ears were buzzing now and he bowed to pressure and let a few small bubbles of air escape his lips. The relief was instant but fleeting, replaced by an even greater longing. As his chest contracted involuntarily, he felt panic setting in and halted his descent. His mind urged him to keep trying but his body and all his survival instincts were screaming at him to kick for the surface and the life-saving air beyond.
How long had Shane been under? Two minutes? Three? Even if he did find him, would he be beyond help?
Finally acknowledging defeat, Daniel turned upwards and kicked for the faint silvery glow above him. Even with the natural buoyancy of his air-filled lungs the ascent seemed to go on for ever and he was still some six or eight feet beneath the surface when something bumped his shoulder.
Daniel turned, still rising, and saw a dark shadow drift between him and the light. Reaching out, he grasped the first thing his questing fingertips touched – the hem of a jacket – and when his head finally broke the surface, he pulled with him the limp, drifting form of the young Traveller.
Gasping in lungfuls of sweet air, Daniel turned Shane until his back was against Daniel’s chest and his head on his shoulder, then, sculling with his free arm, kicked for the edge of the pool.
As his feet found the steeply shelving quarry side and he had increasingly to take Shane’s weight, Daniel’s lean reserves of strength threatened to desert him and it took the combined efforts of Zoe and himself to haul the lad’s waterlogged body out onto the slate scalpings of the quarry floor.
Once there, the youngster lay frighteningly still, his face an alabaster mask and water draining steadily from his hair and clothes to join the puddled rainwater beneath him. Fighting to steady his own laboured breath, Daniel took the lad’s arms and began to pump them to and fro, hoping to force the quarry water from his chest.
A trickle ran from the corner of his mouth and with an urgent, ‘Help me!’ to Zoe, he turned Shane onto his side, at which point a good deal more fluid ran out.
Knowing that it might very well be too late, Daniel turned him onto his back again and began to perform CPR, counting the chest compressions between the life-giving breaths. As he did he stole a glance around the slate workings and was relieved to see that Taz was still in control of his man.
‘Good lad, Taz!’ he panted, but the dog was taking his duties very seriously and only the very tip of his tail waved to show that he’d heard.
On the far edge of the lighted area, Davy was crouched, hugging himself and rocking to and fro. Frankie had returned and now stood nearby, watching the drama with round eyes.
Gradually it dawned on Daniel that something had changed.
It was quiet.
The Transit’s engine was no longer revving; Billy or whoever was at the wheel apparently accepting that it had gone as far as it was going to.
For a moment, all they could hear was the wind rushing in the trees but it was only moments before the relative silence was shattered by the sudden, insistent blaring of the vehicle’s horn. Someone was leaning on it, clearly trying to attract attention.
Continuing to work on Shane, Daniel glanced across towards the gate and the fact that it was his attention that was wanted became depressingly clear.
Coming towards them at a shambling run was Billy Driscoll, moving as fast as his bulk and heavy work boots would allow, and in his hand he carried a knife.
Heartily regretting not having hit the man harder or even searched him for weapons when he had had the chance, Daniel faced an impossible decision: abandon his efforts to resuscitate Shane and face up to the trainer or stay where he was and hope that a hitherto unexhibited family affection would stay the man’s hand while Daniel worked on his nephew.
In the event, the decision was taken away from him.
Billy slowed to a walk as he approached the group by the waterside.
‘You’re wasting your time, country boy,’ he said, his lip curling. ‘The boy’s dead to his people, anyway. May as well let him go.’
Daniel was aware of Zoe moving away from her position at Shane’s side, but while still continuing to work on the youngster, his mind was occupied with trying to guess what Billy’s next move would be.
The shout from Johnny took him by surprise.
‘Billy! Look out! She’s got the gun!’
‘Stay back!’ Zoe shouted and looking up, Daniel saw her on her feet with Johnny’s pistol held shoulder high, braced in both hands.
‘Going to shoot me are you, girlie? I don’t think so,’ Billy sneered, but he came to a halt, nonetheless.
‘I will.’
‘Go on, then,’ he taunted. ‘Might as well get on with it. What’re you waiting for?’
Daniel slowly stood up.
‘Zoe, don’t,’ he said quietly. ‘Give the gun to me.’
It was not that he cared overmuch what happened to either of the Driscolls, but he did care about Zoe and he knew that if she were to shoot Billy, the psychological impact would almost certainly be severe and long-lasting.
A sudden strong gust of wind rushed through the clearing with a noise like an express train and with its passing the heavens opened, throwing rain down upon the scene in silver spears that felt like needles on the skin.
Blonde hair flattened to her head and eyes huge in her white face, Zoe’s hands began to shake and all at once, Billy lunged towards her, reaching for the gun.
In the same instant, the gun went off, jerking skywards, and Zoe stepped back, dropping it as if it had suddenly become hot.
Daniel stepped over Shane’s body and aimed a kick at the gun, sending it skittering in the direction of the pool. He was too slow to intercept Billy, though, and once more Zoe found herself taken hostage, this time with a knife at her throat.
Daniel stopped dead, raising his hands pacifically, but Billy’s attention was all on the girl for the moment.
‘Gonna shoot me, were you, bitch?’ he demanded, half lifting her off her feet.
Zoe whimpered, her eyes on Daniel, pleading.
‘Don’t!’ Billy advised Daniel. ‘Try anything and I’ll cut her. Now call the fucking dog off my brother!’
Daniel hesitated. Once both the Driscolls were free again, the game really would be over, but what was the alternative? With Shane out of it, perhaps permanently, his only back-up was Taz.
‘Do it, country boy! Before I mess up her pretty face!’
Zoe was sobbing openly, now, her face crumpled and streaked with mascara.
‘Daniel?’ she breathed. ‘Please …’
Please, again the flashback and the stifling panic. It couldn’t happen again; he wouldn’t let it.
The rain continued to lash down, drumming on the ground and turning the surface of the pool to an agitated dance of droplets.
‘Come on, country boy …’
Daniel’s brain raced, searching for a way out.
‘Why? You’re going to kill us anyway. We’ve seen too much,’ he pointed out, more to stall for time than with any expectation of a deal. ‘Go ahead, kill the girl. My dog will tear your brother’s throat out before you can do a damn thing about it!’
‘Daniel …’ Zoe pleaded brokenly.
Even from where he was, some eight or ten feet away, Daniel could see the shudders that were shaking Zoe’s slight frame, and he hated what he was doing.
‘I think you’re bluffing, country boy,’ the trainer hissed. ‘You’ve got ten seconds. Call the fucking dog off or I’ll cut her throat!’
Daniel was between a rock and a hard place. He clenched his fists, his heart racing, poised to try and take Billy Driscoll down before he could carry out his threat. It was a chance so slim as to be anorexic, but he could see no other option.
Then, over Billy’s shoulder, he caught sight of movement. Davy was approaching, his eyes intent; fixed firmly on his brother’s back.
Hoping that his arrival on the scene might prove the distraction he needed, Daniel waited and Billy began to count down. By the time he had got to four, Davy was only feet away, but Daniel was pretty sure the trainer hadn’t heard him above the rain, so intent was he on counting and watching Daniel.
At three, Zoe screamed; ‘Daniel! Please! Help me!’
As if the sound of her distress was a catalyst, Davy ran the last few steps and grasped his brother’s arm with both hands.
Billy was caught entirely off his guard. For a moment he quite clearly had no idea who his assailant was. As Davy forced his knife hand away from Zoe’s face, Billy let go of the girl and whirled to face the new attack.
In a flash, Daniel had reached Zoe and pulled her out of danger, pushing her behind him as the two brothers struggled for possession of the weapon.
‘For Christ’s sake, Davy! Leave go of me!’ Billy said through gritted teeth. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’
Davy hung on grimly, his face contorted with conflicting emotions.
‘You were hurting the girl. The pretty girl. You mustn’t hurt her! She was crying.’
Billy tried to tug his arm free but to no avail. Furiously angry he shouted in his brother’s face, ‘All right, I won’t! OK? Just leave go of my arm, you moron!’
For the first time, Daniel saw Davy’s brows draw down in anger.
‘I’m not a moron! You want to hurt the girl. You want to bury her with the sick dogs. She’s not sick, she’s pretty!’
‘She’s a little slut, that’s what she is!’ Billy said, spitting the words in his brother’s face. ‘Now, let me go or I’ll shut you in the coal hole for a week!’
Davy’s face registered terror and Daniel guessed that this was a threat that had been used, and maybe even carried out, before. The childlike face hardened and Davy shifted his hands to get a better grip on Billy’s arm, his knuckles whitening as he slowly turned the trainer’s hand back on himself.
‘Davy, for fuck’s sake!’ Billy cried, his face reddening with the physical struggle. Realizing the danger for the first time, he tried to backtrack but he had pushed Davy too far. ‘OK, OK, I won’t hurt her, I promise!’
He tried to open his fingers and shake the weapon from his grip but Davy’s hand was clamped round his, trapping the haft of the knife inside, and his strength was inexorable.
‘Davy! Davy, lad – it’s Billy, your brother. I take care of you, don’t I?’
Poised to intervene, for a moment Daniel thought the years of conditioning would tell and Billy would succeed in talking him round. The trainer obviously thought the same himself because his next words were conciliatory.
‘I won’t punish you, Davy, just give me the knife, eh?’
‘I can’t let you hurt the girl, Billy, I can’t!’ Davy was half-sobbing as he wrestled with the opposing pulls of loyalty and compassion.
In the next instant, Billy’s face froze on a look of disbelief as their joined hands suddenly stabbed towards him. His eyes rose to find his brother’s face and he frowned as if seeing him properly for the first time. When his lips moved what came out was more of a groan than any decipherable words and in a kind of hideous slow motion, he fell towards Davy, grasping his brother’s shoulder with his free hand.
Davy said nothing, standing like a statue as, slowly, the strength left the stricken man’s legs and he slid to his knees at Davy’s feet, his body curling round the agony in his chest. His hand lost its grip on his brother’s coat and he collapsed to the ground, his blood mixing with the rainwater that ran towards the pool.
Raising his eyes, Daniel saw Frankie, a few feet away and drawing close with a look of shock on his thin face. Beyond him but also coming closer was Lorna Myers.
Daniel glanced at Davy, trying to assess if he posed any further threat to any of them, and saw what could only be described as the disintegration of his spirit. He was standing looking down at the still body at his feet, his face a blank. Rainwater dripped from the sodden curls of his hair and off the tip of his nose, and his hands and the front of his coat were red with blood.
Slowly, uncaring or perhaps unaware, of the running groundwater, Davy sank to his knees beside his brother and bent over him.
‘Billy?’ he said. Then louder, ‘Billy?’
‘He’s gone, Davy,’ Daniel said gently. ‘Billy’s gone.’ And as if punctuating the scene, the pounding rain abruptly ceased, becoming instead no more than a misty drizzle blowing in the wind.
Davy gave no sign that he’d heard Daniel but after a moment, he repeated the words, ‘Billy’s gone.’
Turning his face up to the clouded sky, he then began to keen softly, rocking to and fro, his face a mask of unimaginable grief.
Daniel saw Lorna’s face twist in sympathy before she sidestepped the scene of the tragedy and hurried towards her daughter.
Zoe’s eyes, however, were not for her mother.
‘Daniel!’ she cried sharply.
When he turned he found her down on her knees once more beside her boyfriend, but instead of the grief he expected to encounter, her face was shining with joy.
Shane was alive. Lying on his side, ashen-faced and painfully retching water, but alive, nonetheless.
‘You son of a bloody gun!’ Daniel exclaimed delightedly. ‘How the hell did you do that? I was sure we’d lost you!’
‘Never … give up … on a Traveller,’ Shane managed between gasps. ‘You can’t … get rid of us!’
‘Well, next time you go swimming, don’t forget to put your bloody armbands on,’ Daniel told him.
A throaty rumble from Taz reminded him that the dog was still guarding Johnny Driscoll, and he turned to look at him.
‘I only wanted to sit up,’ Driscoll complained. He was lying in two or three inches of water, propped up on one elbow and glaring at the dog with undisguised hatred.
Taz was standing, head lowered and tail high, daring the Traveller – beseeching him, to make a sudden movement, to give him an excuse to close in again.
‘Let me get up,’ Driscoll demanded. ‘How long are you going to keep me here? I need to go to my brother.’
‘I’m in no hurry,’ Daniel told him, turning away.
‘But I bloody am! I’m wet through and it’s fucking cold!’
‘My heart bleeds …’
Shane had stopped retching now and was sat up with Zoe’s arm around him.
‘Oh, my God,’ he groaned, looking across to where Davy still knelt by his brother’s body. ‘Is he …?’
Daniel sighed and nodded. Thanks to Frankie’s efforts with the knife, his back was beginning to stiffen. It felt as though the evening had been going on for ever already and he knew that when the police became involved, which had to happen, the aftermath would last all night and probably for days and weeks to come. In his current state of physical and mental exhaustion, the thought was depressing beyond belief.
‘What a bloody mess!’ Shane said, echoing his thoughts. ‘What do we do now?’
‘Well, I guess someone’ll have to go and call the police,’ Daniel said, running through the options in his mind. He couldn’t go and leave Taz standing guard on Johnny Driscoll. He was the only one from whom the dog would take orders and Driscoll might well see his absence as an opportunity to chance his arm. Shane was in no fit state to go anywhere for a bit and Zoe couldn’t drive, so it could only be Lorna, but it was a big ask, after all that had happened.
‘Daniel? What happened here?’ Lorna asked, breaking in on his thoughts. ‘What’s been going on? Does this man know where Harvey is?’
With a shock, Daniel realized that Lorna had probably arrived too late to see the corpse thrown into the quarry pool and therefore still didn’t know what had happened to her husband.
‘It’s a long and unpleasant story,’ he began, hoping to put off the moment of revelation until after the police had been called.
‘The Driscolls killed Harvey,’ Zoe stated. ‘They threw his body in the pool, I saw them do it.’
Lorna became very still. She looked from her daughter to Daniel.
‘Is that true?’
‘I’m sorry, Lorna.’ It was totally inadequate but he didn’t know what else to say.
‘Who? Who did it?’
‘Billy Driscoll.’ He glanced briefly across to where the dead man lay.
‘The greyhound trainer?’ Her gaze followed his. ‘Is that him?’
‘Yes.’
‘But … why?’
‘It seems they fell out over a bet, but I guess we’ll never know exactly what happened, now.’
‘You said you saw them do it,’ Lorna spoke to Zoe, who shook her head, tears in her eyes. One of her cheekbones was beginning to darken and swell, the result of Billy’s blow.
‘No, not actually kill him, but I saw them throw his body in the water. It was horrible!’
‘Well, if you’d done as you were told …!’ her mother snapped, flaring up with sudden anger. ‘You could have been killed – you nearly were! And what would I have done then, eh? You didn’t think of that, did you? You never think of anyone but yourself and what you want! You’re so bloody selfish, just like your father!’
Zoe stood up from her position beside Shane and looked miserably at her mother.
‘Mum …’
‘Don’t bloody “Mum” me!’ Lorna yelled at her. ‘I died a million deaths back there.’
‘I thought you’d come after me,’ Zoe said, crying now.
‘I tried! Of course I tried, but when I backed it up, the bloody Land Rover got stuck in a ditch. Well, I couldn’t just leave it there, could I? What if you had all come back and needed to make a quick getaway? You didn’t think of that, did you, when you went running off?’
‘I didn’t know it was stuck. I thought you’d wait.’
‘What? You thought I was just going to sit there and let you get yourself killed? I’ve lost too many – I couldn’t lose you, too.’ Lorna’s voice broke on the last words and with an inarticulate sound, Zoe went to her and they hugged each other as if they would never let go.
After a decent pause, Daniel cleared his throat. He was wet through and beginning to chill now the adrenalin was subsiding, as he imagined they all were. Shane was probably feeling even worse.
‘So, is the Land Rover still stuck?’ he asked, trying to decide on a course of action.
‘No, it’s back there. By the gate,’ Lorna said, pulling back from her daughter and wiping her eyes. ‘I eventually got it going with branches under the wheels. When I got here and saw what was happening I didn’t know what to do so I got in the van and tried to ram the gates. I thought it might cause a distraction and give you all a chance to get away. I didn’t realize—’
‘Hang on – that was you in the van?’
‘Yes,’ Lorna paused, looking uncertain. ‘I didn’t know what else to do …’
‘It was a stroke of genius,’ Daniel told her, warmly. ‘What happened was bad enough, but it could have been so much worse. What you did was brilliant.’ Looking round, his gaze fell on Davy once more, quiet now but still hugging himself and rocking to and fro. Daniel said his name gently but had to repeat it before Davy stopped and looked at him. Limping slightly from the deep soreness in his lower back, Daniel walked over and held out his hand.
‘Leave him, now, Davy. Come away.’
Davy shook his head emphatically, looking away.
‘Come on, Davy, there’s nothing you can do.’
‘I killed him.’
‘Billy was going to hurt the girl, Davy. You saved her.’
Davy shook his head.
‘No, the angry man. He was attacking Billy.’
Daniel’s attention sharpened.
‘Which man, Davy?’
‘The angry man,’ Davy said, beginning to cry again. ‘I pushed him and he fell. I didn’t mean to hurt him but he was shouting at Billy. I didn’t know what to do. He was trying to hurt Billy.’
‘You killed Harvey? The man in the water?’
‘I didn’t mean to do it …’ Davy sobbed. ‘He hit his head and he wouldn’t move. I didn’t mean to hurt him.’
Daniel watched him for a moment longer, then shook his head sadly.
‘It’s all right, Davy. I believe you.’
He turned and went back to Lorna.
‘I’m sorry to have to ask you but someone has to go for help, there’s no phone signal here …’
‘Me?’ Lorna looked around at Johnny, Shane and Davy, seeing, as Daniel had, that there was no other option. ‘Yes, I see, of course.’ She stepped back, releasing Zoe, who returned to Shane’s side.
‘Harvey … I mean, when did he …?’
‘Some time ago, I think.’ Now, he felt, wasn’t the time to explain about Billy Driscoll’s field, if she hadn’t yet put two and two together. Time enough for that horror when the first shock was over.
‘It’s not as though I hadn’t expected it,’ Lorna said. ‘When they found his car and phone, I think I knew, but it’s different when you finally hear for certain. It’s like a little bit of you keeps hoping, even when you know there really isn’t any chance.’
‘Hey! Someone’s coming!’
It was Frankie shouting. Unnoticed by any of them, he had wondered towards the gate and was now standing by the stricken van. Everyone except Davy looked his way.
‘Who is it, can you see?’ Daniel called out.
‘S’not the gavvers. I can’t see no blues.’
‘The what?’ Zoe asked.
‘Police,’ Shane translated.
Daniel glanced at Johnny Driscoll, still sitting on the wet ground under Taz’s watchful eye, but the Traveller looked as mystified as the rest of them. Apparently he wasn’t expecting anyone, which was a relief to Daniel. He’d had more than enough excitement for one night.
Frankie stayed where he was for a few seconds more, then started to back away before turning and half-running towards Daniel and the others with fear on his face.
Moments later two men came into sight, walking into the beam of the van’s headlights and warily, Daniel went to meet them.
Initially, haloed by the strong lights, he couldn’t make out their faces, though something in his way of walking struck him as familiar about one of them. Then one of them spoke, low-voiced and wondering.
‘Whew! It looks like we’ve missed the party. What have you got yourself into this time, my friend?’
‘Tom? Tom Bowden?’ Daniel was incredulous. ‘How the hell …?’
‘Well, I was having supper with Mum and Dad – it’s their anniversary, you know – and Dad told me where you’d gone tonight, which I have to say was singularly foolish. This is the Driscolls we’re talking about. I thought after I’d answered all your questions, you’d learned enough to know you don’t mess with them.’
‘I guess I’m a bit slow on the uptake,’ Daniel put in, still trying to assimilate his good fortune. Of all the people who could have walked into the quarry that night, there was no one he would rather have seen.
‘Yeah, you can bash some people over the head with the facts and they still don’t get it!’
As they met, they embraced, Tom slapping Daniel on the back to rob his words of their censure.
‘But I don’t understand …’
‘Well, when you didn’t call in to say you were OK, we started to get worried, and by eleven o’clock Mum practically ordered us to come looking!’ he said as they moved apart.
‘Us?’
‘Yeah, he dragged me along,’ the other man joked, coming forward.
‘Fred! I’m sorry, mate! I totally forgot about calling, even if there’d been a signal. But what I really want to know is – how the hell did you find us?’
‘3G,’ Tom said, walking past Daniel towards Davy, still kneeling by his brother’s body. ‘Called in a favour. 3G uses satellites. We tracked your phone to about a mile up the road before we lost coverage, but there’s not much else around here so this seemed like a good bet.’
‘But I haven’t got my phone. I dropped it earlier, when the Driscolls jumped me.’
‘Looks like they must have brought it along, then,’ Tom remarked. ‘Lucky for you. My God, what’s been happening here? I’ve called it in, by the way. The cavalry should be here shortly.’
Daniel sighed and shook his head. He was cold, sore and deeply, grindingly exhausted. He turned and indicated the scene.
‘I hardly know where to start …’
‘At the beginning,’ Tom suggested, practically. ‘You were a copper, my friend. You know that’s where we always start.’