Over My Dead Body (Detective William Warwick #4)(90)
Ross watched carefully as the guards kept to a designated path so as not to set off an alarm that would wake their paymaster. He knew roughly how much time they had to make it to the kitchen where they could hide beneath a steep flight of stone steps, allowing the guards to pass a second time before they attempted to enter the house. They began to weave their way across the lawn towards a well-trodden path, aware they’d left themselves only seconds before the guards would reappear. They wouldn’t have needed a torch to spot the uninvited trio frozen like rabbits in their headlights.
Once the guards were safely out of sight, Ross, closely followed by William and Juan, sprinted towards the building. They knew exactly where their next stop would be, as the kitchen staircase was imprinted on their minds from the model back at the safe house. But this was anything but a safe house. Once they reached the staircase, Ross descended the steps, closely followed by William and Juan, before crouching down opposite an entrance marked ‘Entrada de servicio’.
William held his breath, hearing only the sound of his heartbeat which wasn’t seventy-two to the minute, as the guards passed by a few feet above them, before once again disappearing around the far corner of the building.
The next step was the fire escape. Ross glanced up at the fourth floor and was relieved to see one of the three windows that had been marked with red crosses was open. As he approached the fire escape, he no longer needed to look back and check his two bloodhounds were still in pursuit.
He gripped the two sides of the iron ladder and began his ascent with the skill of an experienced cat burglar. William and Juan, not quite so practised, followed several rungs behind.
When he reached the fourth floor, Ross stepped nimbly across to the nearest windowsill, and in a single movement swung himself through the open window and landed noiselessly on the wooden floor. His eyes quickly focused on a bed on the far side of the room, in which a young woman was sleeping contentedly. She was about to have a bad dream, thought Ross, as he advanced cautiously towards her.
William clambered through the open window just as Ross placed a hand over the young woman’s mouth. Even in the faint moonlight, he couldn’t miss the look of horror in her eyes as she began to shake uncontrollably.
Juan, who had landed in the room with a thud, ran quickly across to the bed and spoke to the young woman in her own tongue, which appeared to calm her, as she stopped shaking. She nodded when Ross indicated he was going to remove his hand, again helped by Juan who assured her she wouldn’t come to any harm if she remained silent. But Ross wasn’t taking any chances. He bound her wrists and legs while William firmly gagged her with one of her own stockings.
Juan returned to the window and peered down from behind the curtain as the two guards sauntered by once again, their torchlights flashing in every direction except the house. When he could no longer see them, he joined William and Ross at the door. William cautiously opened the door a few inches and waited for a moment before poking his head out into the unlit corridor. No one in sight. Closing the door silently behind them, the three of them turned right and headed for the top of the stairs.
William led them slowly down the thickly carpeted stairs, though each of them knew the layout of the house as if it were his own home. They came to a halt when they reached the landing that led to the master bedroom. William and Juan stayed put while Ross continued on down the sweeping marble steps to the ground floor.
As he and Juan tiptoed along the corridor, William didn’t even glance at the magnificent paintings that adorned the walls. He paused only for a moment before placing a hand on the doorknob. He turned it slowly, noiselessly, to find it was unlocked. He pushed the door open, but the moment he stepped inside the room a deafening alarm screamed out, and vast arc lights immediately illuminated the grounds outside, flooding the house with light. William switched on the bedroom light and stared at a large, empty bed that hadn’t been slept in. Faulkner had clearly anticipated Plan A. Juan was quickly on the radio to his waiting team.
Downstairs in his study, Faulkner leapt out of his makeshift bed the moment the alarm sounded. It didn’t worry him when he heard loud footsteps echoing along the marble corridor that led to his study. He had more than enough time. He walked across to the metal door and tapped the face of a watch that never left his wrist. When the dial lit up he entered 03 43, the first four numbers of the timecode. He had just tapped in 09 88, the month and the year, when he heard a key turning in the door behind him. But how could that be possible? He quickly stepped into the safe just as Ross burst into his study and came charging towards him.
He was only a stride away when Faulkner slammed the massive door shut, breathing a sigh of relief as he heard the heavy steel bolts slide into place.
Ross was about to tap his own watch and enter the code that would open the safe door when he heard footsteps running along the corridor. He decided to wait for the choirboy and the lieutenant to appear before he performed the opening ceremony.
? ? ?
Faulkner was also smiling, but then he assumed that time was on his side. Booth Watson would be arriving later that morning, and if the interlopers hadn’t already left by then, one phone call from his Spanish lawyer and they would quickly be dispatched. And what his pursuers didn’t know was that General Franco had built a tunnel from his underground study through the cliff that led to a tiny cove where his yacht would be waiting for him. This time the captain would take him somewhere that didn’t have an extradition treaty with Britain.