Kiss Heaven Goodbye Part 64

Kiss Heaven Goodbye Part 64

'Because they're the only ones on this island. Carlton, Benny the caretaker, they're my people.' He laughed. 'Carlton's an ex-mercenary I've sometimes used for strong-arm work. I have to say, they've really thrown themelves into their roles.And when you're found dead, Miles, the natural suspects will be your dear friends. All of them have motive. Grace hates you; so does Sasha after that nasty st.i.tch-up with Simon a.s.sad. And there's bad blood between you and Alex too. His rejection of your Vegas residency plan, the mugging which I was behind, incidentally. Benny will find your body. He'll call the police, who will naturally suspect the island's vengeful house guests. Meanwhile, I've got five guests at the Na.s.sau Ashford prepared to vouch that they saw me in the hotel at the time of your murder.' He glanced at his watch. 'Which is going to be at roughly six thirty p.m.'

He levelled the gun, using his other hand to steady himself. Miles had the crazy notion that he looked like Dirty Harry.

'Why? What the f.u.c.k are you doing this for, Michael?' he shouted desperately. 'Do you want money? I can get you millions in cash, jewels, whatever you need!'

'I don't want your money,' spat Michael. 'But I want you to pay.'At the edge of the mangrove, Alex stopped suddenly. He was walking in front of Philip and had seen Miles and Michael on the beach before him. Crouching down quickly in the bushes, he instructed Philip to do the same. They could see Michael standing over Miles, pointing down at him, his body turned away from them.

's.h.i.t, I think he's got a gun,' Alex whispered.




The two men stayed low in the undergrowth. Between them and the boathouse was a hundred feet of sand and scrub, completely open ground.

Alex felt his palms sweating. He knew instantly they were all in danger, Miles more immediately, but would Marshall stop with him?

'What are we going to do?' he said.

He hoped Grace had called the police but wondered how long it would take them to arrive if they could get here at all in this awful weather.

Philip puffed out his cheeks lightly. 'I could tackle him from behind but he could fire at Miles before we got halfway to the boathouse. He could fire at us too, for that matter.'

'Tackle him?' hissed Alex incredulously. 'Who are you? The SAS?'

He watched Philip's eyes scan the ground around him. Then he crawled across and picked up a small rock the size of a squash ball.

Alex looked at him cynically. 'You are kidding me?' he hissed.

'Nope,' said Philip, moving into a crouch.

'Tell me you're a good shot.'

'As well as my rugby, I was in the England Under-Eighteen cricket team,' he said.

'Under eighteen?' said Alex. 'I hope you've kept in practice.' eighteen?' said Alex. 'I hope you've kept in practice.'

Knowing he had no time to argue, Phil stood up and threw the rock. It sliced through the air in a perfect arc, hitting Michael Marshall on the back of the neck. He slumped forward, the gun going off with a bang.

'f.u.c.k me,' whispered Alex. 'Great shot!' But Philip wasn't listening; he was already sprinting across the open ground. In a flying leap he landed on top of Michael, forcing his arm across the lawyer's throat. Without stopping to think of the danger, Alex followed him, struggling for speed across the cold, wet sand.

'Where's Sasha?' shouted Philip. 'Tell us!'

'f.u.c.k you,' growled Michael.

Alex spotted Michael's gun a few feet away from him on the beach. He scrambled over to it, pausing for a moment before he picked it up, heavy, menacing in his hand.

He pointed it at Michael as Philip repeated his question.

Michael hesitated.

The gun felt alien in Alex's grip but he kept his hand steady. 'You've got three seconds to tell us. Be quick, I was almost sectioned once, no telling what I'll do. One, two, thr-'

'At Nelson's old place.' Michael winced.

'Miles, get some rope from the boathouse,' said Alex.

Miles struggled to his feet and obediently followed his instructions. Philip bound Michael's arms and legs together and the three men lifted him into the boathouse, where a third length of rope tied him to a cast-iron table.

'That should keep him quiet,' said Alex. 'Now let's get back to Grace.'

'No, we have to find Sasha,' said Philip urgently. He pulled his phone out and handed it to Alex. 'Call Grace, make sure she's OK.'

Alex nodded with anxiety. If Michael's men had even touched her, he would kill them.

'Are you all right?' he asked when she answered.

'Just wondering where the h.e.l.l you are. Is everything OK?'

'We've got Miles, he's fine. Have you called the police?'

'It took some persuading, but they're on their way.'

'Have you seen Sasha or the detective?'

'No.'

'Good. Now lock yourself in your bedroom.'

'Alex, what's going on?'

'Please. Just do it,' he pleaded.

The three men ran around the beach path and through a stretch of mangrove towards the caretaker's cottage. Philip asked Alex to give him the gun, which he did willingly. The rain was lashing down on to the island and their hair and clothes were soaked. Seeing the staff buildings, they stopped behind a bike shed.

'What the f.u.c.k do we do now?' asked Miles, wiping the rain from his face with his sleeve.

'You knock on the door and wait for Benny to answer,' said Philip calmly.

'I'm not doing that! He might be with Carlton. He might have a gun. He could kill me.'

Philip frowned. 'I've got a gun and I'll fire it at you if you don't b.l.o.o.d.y knock at that door.'

Seeing he had no choice, Miles puffed out his cheeks and walked up to the cottage's front door. Alex and Philip crept closer around a thick line of trees until they were just ten feet from the cottage. The light was poor, which Alex hoped would keep them hidden from view.

After a minute, the detective answered. 'Mr Ashford,' he said, looking ruffled.

'I was wondering if you'd seen my sister.'

'No,' said Carlton, 'and I have some very important calls to make.'

'I'm worried about her, Detective,' said Miles quickly. 'And I've just found something up at the house I need to show you. I think it might be important.'

Carlton looked dubious, but he nodded. 'OK, but make it quick,' he said, wiping the rain from his forehead.

He stepped outside on to the path and Miles led him to just a few feet from the line of trees. Philip jumped forward, pointing the gun at him, but Carlton was a professional; he ducked and spun around, slipping his hand into his jacket pocket as he turned. Miles, who was standing right next to him, slammed his fist into the man's ear. It was a pathetic punch, but enough to make Carlton stumble. Carlton threw a punch which landed squarely on Miles' jaw, but the scuffle had given Philip enough time to push the muzzle of the gun against Carlton's temple.

'f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, Phil.' Alex whistled.

Phil grunted. 'I'm glad two years at Sandhurst came to some use.'

They marched the fake detective back into the house.

'Any more of your little friends on the island?' asked Miles, regaining his bl.u.s.ter.

Carlton shook his head as Alex removed his gun from his pocket and bound his wrists with a length of washing line he had found in the kitchen.

'Miles, you watch him. Alex, help me look for Sasha.'

At the back of the kitchen was a washroom. Alex flung open the door and saw Sasha, slumped on the floor.

'Phil!' he shouted.

She was unconscious, but she was still breathing, although her skin was cold. Phil ran in and cradled her in his arms.

Alex heard his mobile ring. 'Grace?'

'Tell me what's going on, Alex,' she said.'The George Town police have just called. The sea's rough but they're on their way and someone should be here in thirty minutes.'

He left the other two and ran for the door. The only place he wanted to be was by her side. 'I'm coming,' he panted as he ran through the rain. 'I'm coming to get you.'

78

Sasha could only vaguely remember what had happened. There was a jumble of images on Angel Cay: Phil's concerned face, some uniformed policemen, an air ambulance on the beach. Then she had woken up here, in a private room at Na.s.sau's Princess Margaret Hospital. Philip had filled in the gaps. Michael Marshall had been arrested by the real real Royal Bahamian police and thrown into a Royal Bahamian police and thrown into a real real prison cell, as had his conspirators, although none of them were talking. Sasha shivered at the thought of how close she had come to death. It was actually lucky that Detective Carlton or whoever he was was a trained killer: the pressure he'd applied to her neck had been just enough to knock her out, rather than break her neck. Her head and throat were still throbbing and her entire body felt bruised from where she'd been dragged to Nelson's house. prison cell, as had his conspirators, although none of them were talking. Sasha shivered at the thought of how close she had come to death. It was actually lucky that Detective Carlton or whoever he was was a trained killer: the pressure he'd applied to her neck had been just enough to knock her out, rather than break her neck. Her head and throat were still throbbing and her entire body felt bruised from where she'd been dragged to Nelson's house. But I'm alive But I'm alive, she thought, feeling emotion swell. That's enough for me right now That's enough for me right now.

She heard movement in the doorway and looked up, hoping it would be Philip, but flinched as she saw Miles standing there. A memory of the last time they had met flashed before her another hospital, another time she'd rather forget.

'Hi, Sasha,' he said quietly. He looked pale in the fluorescent light. He came and sat on the wooden chair beside her bed, his eyes cast down. 'How are you feeling?'

'I've felt better. What about you?' she said, pointing at his bruised jaw.

He shrugged. 'Listen, if there's anything you need ... The jet can take you anywhere you want, an extended holiday to recover, whatever. '

'Miles, look at me,' she said.

Reluctantly, his eyes slid up to hers.

'I don't need anything from you. It's enough that it's over.'

She had expected to see the usual arrogant pout, but Miles looked different. Smaller somehow. She couldn't believe the great Miles Ashford had learnt any humility after facing death facing his past. But there was something she hadn't seen before in his face. Vulnerability, perhaps?

'You do know that we could all have been killed, don't you, Miles?'

Miles shook his head slightly. 'Michael didn't want to see you dead. Only me. He wanted you, Alex and Grace to pay for it. He wanted you to suffer.'

'Well I think we've all been doing enough of that for ourselves,' said Sasha. 'But Miles, you worked with the man for five years. How could you not have known?'

He glanced at the floor. 'I've spent twenty years forgetting that night. I thought he was dead. I thought my father had got rid of the body.'

'Is that why you hated each other?' she asked softly.

His eyes flashed at her briefly, then he looked away again. 'Is that what he told you?'

'No,' said Sasha. 'We never talked about you.'

'Well, it's all in the past now. My father, Michael Marshall, the island, all of it.'

She looked at him. 'Is it? We still left that boy for dead. Yes, it was twenty years ago, but you almost killed him that night.'

He stuck his chin out. 'But I didn't.'

'Everything has a consequence, Miles.'

He blinked, longer than necessary, and when he opened his eyes, she thought she could see the shimmer of a tear.

'I'm sorry, Sash.'

She looked at him and realised that she'd hated him for almost half her life. Hated him for his rejection of her on the island. Hated the power he had over the business by being their first backer. Hated his reaction after the death of Robert Ashford. And underpinning everything, she had hated him for the secret he had made Alex, Grace and herself carry for all these years. But of course the truth was they had carried it for themselves, not because Miles had made them. They had thought it would be easier to keep quiet, to let the memories fade, but they had been wrong. Dead wrong. Those memories had stayed with them, festering, spreading into their lives, colouring their decisions, changing the way they were. And now, at the other end of all that misery and heartbreak, Sasha found she drew no comfort from the ordeal Miles had just been through. It had always been her weakness; she wanted to please Miles. After all this time, she still wanted him to be happy. Not that he deserved it.

'Actually, there's one thing you can do for me, Miles.'

'What is it?'

'I know you put a.s.sad up to buying my company. You can call it off.'

Miles bristled. 'Simon is his own man,' he said. 'This is a business investment. It's nothing to do with me.'

'Miles, you're lying.'

He looked thoughtful and then nodded. 'I'll have a word.'

'Thank you. I appreciate it.'

There was a discreet cough behind them. 'G.o.d, I can't believe you're actually talking business,' said Philip, walking in with two drinks.

Miles stood up, hearing his cue to leave. 'Remember, you two. If you want time out after all this, pick a hotel. Call me on my cell and I'll sort it for you.'