Dark Side of the Street - Jack Higgins [38]
"Never mind him--we've got to get out of here."
They went out into the main courtyard and the girl plucked at Youngblood's sleeve. "You'll take me with you, Harry?"
"Do me a favour," Youngblood said and pushed her away violently.
"But you can't leave me," she pleaded. "Not now."
"What's she talking about?" Chavasse demanded.
"How the hell should I know?" Youngblood said impatiently. "I'll get some food from the house and we'll get moving. I suppose we'd better take the Ford."
"Please Harry!"
The girl was crying bitterly and Chavasse looked at her, a frown on his face. He didn't like leaving her, if only because Crowther might return. On the other hand she would be nothing but a hindrance. Or would she?
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Molly, can you drive?"
She looked up eagerly. "Of course I can."
"What are you up to?" Youngblood demanded.
"I was just thinking," Chavasse said. "What if we run into a road block somewhere. It's always possible. If the girl drove a mile in front in the Ford and we followed in the cattle truck, there'd be time for her to turn back and warn us."
Youngblood nodded slowly. "You know, I think you've got something there." He turned to Molly and put a hand on her shoulder. "Think you can do it, kid?"
She gazed up at him, an expression of pure joy in her eyes. "Just try me, Harry. Just try me."
Five minutes after the truck had rolled away down the track, Sam Crowther emerged from the trees at the back of the farm and limped across the yard. His mouth was badly swollen and his chest hurt so that he could hardly breathe.
He leaned over the sink, holding his head under the cold tap and when he straightened, reaching for a towel, he found Simon Vaughan standing in the open doorway.
"Hello, Mr. Smith," Crowther said uncertainly. "I didn't expect to see you."
"Just thought I'd look in to see if everything had gone off smoothly," Vaughan said. "You look as if you've been in the wars, old man."
"Nothing I couldn't handle." Crowther's brain worked overtime. "You've brought the money with you, I hope."
"You've disposed of them already?" Vaughan said. "I must say that's very efficient of you. Where are they?"
"In the well at the rear."
"Mind if we take a look?"
Crowther hesitated. "You won't see much. Stillsuit yourself."
It was still raining when they went into the courtyard and approached the well. The stench was appalling, but such was the depth of the shaft that it was impossible to see what lay at the bottom.
"So you put them down there, did you?" Vaughan said.
"That's right."
Vaughan sighed. "You know you really are the most awful liar. I've just walked over the hill, old man. I saw Youngblood and Drummond drive away in that cattle truck of yours."
Which was true, although he had missed Molly's departure in the Ford by five minutes.
"You have a daughter, don't you? Where is she?"
"I reckon she's cleared off," Crowther whispered.
"I see. Did you tell our friends about Alma Cottage at Bampton and Rosa Hartman?" Crowther's face was his answer and he shook his head gently. "You shouldn't have done that, old man. You really shouldn't."
His right hand came out of his pocket and swung up, the blade of a flicked knife springing into view, the point catching Crowther under the chin and shearing through the roof of his mouth into his brain.
He died instantly and Vaughan pulled out the knife, holding him upright, cleaned the blade carefully on Crowther's jacket, then pushed him over the wall into the well. He turned and walked away through the rain whistling tunelessly.
8
Distant Thunder
Vaughan passed the cattle truck within fifteen miles, travelling fast in a green Triumph Spitfire. A mile further on he overtook the old black Ford with Molly at the wheel, but it meant nothing to him. He had never met Crowther's stepdaughter and had certainly no reason to think she was in any way linked