‘Saved me a trip to her house anyway,’ Barrington said.
‘Guess so,’ Scott answered. He hadn’t been at all sure about killing this woman, but she’d made things easier in the same way that Ronan had. It was actually a relief to know that she was out of the picture.
‘What now?’ he asked. He was handing control over to Barrington. He was done with scheming.
‘We dump the bodies and the car. Might buy me a few days to get as far as I can.’
‘What about the people who were expecting to get that money tonight? You really think they won’t come after you?’
‘Nice of you to worry. Although I don’t recall you raising that particular concern for my welfare when you were trying to recruit me.’
Scott shrugged. ‘I was making a sales pitch.’
Barrington smiled. ‘Maybe they will, but I doubt it. I think they’ll blame the Cobbs, especially once they find out they’ve disappeared. If they do enough digging, they’ll learn that Myra was asking a lot of questions about that money. And anyone going into my place will find all my stuff still there and signs of a fight. They’ll probably think I’m dead or hiding from the Cobbs. They won’t believe I’ve got the balls to wipe out the whole Cobb clan and steal their money.’
They stared silently at Myra Cobb for a few more seconds, then went into action. They loaded both bodies onto the Land Rover and drove it over the hill. On the other side was a bridge across a stream. The Cobbs must have driven in that way. Some distance to the right, the hill dropped sharply down to a patch of tall brambles and weeds bordering the stream. Most people would have no inclination to lower themselves down there or wade to it through the fast-flowing water. Barrington and Scott rolled the bodies unceremoniously down into the hollow and watched them get swallowed up.
Barrington decided that the best place to leave the Land Rover was hidden in plain sight outside Myra’s farmhouse, only a few minutes’ drive away. Scott followed him in his own car, then transported Barrington back to his Corsa on the lane.
Before they parted, Barrington reached into the Adidas bag and grabbed several bundles of cash. He proffered them to Scott.
‘Call me sentimental, but I get the feeling you need this as much as I do.’
Scott lowered his gaze to the money. It would certainly come in useful after all his losses.
But then he shook his head. ‘I can’t take that. It’s drug money.’
Barrington waited for a few seconds longer, then pushed the packets back into the bag.
‘You know your problem, don’t you?’
‘What’s that?’
‘You’re too honest.’
Scott watched him load the bag into the boot of his car, then climb behind the steering wheel.
‘One last question,’ Scott said.
‘Shoot.’
‘Why the parka?’
‘What kind of stupid question is that? It’s cold, bro.’
And then he drove into the night.
Scott went to his own car. As he opened the door, he took one last look up at the hill, remembering all that had taken place there. It looked so unbelievably peaceful now.
He groaned in pain as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat.
It was time to go home.
51
After a shit week, this felt good. It felt human. It would seem a small, simple act to most, but to Hannah Washington it was of profound importance.
Screw the force, she thought. Screw Ray Devereux. This is what really matters.
She rang the doorbell and waited.
It was Gemma who came to the door. Alarm rang out from her pale features, but Hannah was used to that reaction from people receiving an unexpected visit from a police officer. Their first thoughts were always that her arrival heralded disaster.
This was one of the few opportunities she would get to do the opposite.
‘Hello again,’ Hannah began. ‘Remember me? I was on your sofa when—’
‘Yes. Yes, of course I remember. Oh, God. Is . . . is everything all right?’
Clearly, Gemma had it worse than most. The poor woman looked like she was about to have a panic attack.
‘Yes. Sorry. I hope it’s not too late for me to call. I’m not here on police business. This is personal. My way of showing my gratitude.’
Gemma unveiled a weak smile. ‘You don’t have to. It’s the least we could have done, honestly.’
Hannah raised the plastic carrier bag she was holding. ‘I’ve brought a few gifts for Daniel. I’m sure he told me it’s his birthday soon, but my brain was a bit scrambled at the time. I haven’t missed it, have I?’
‘No, you haven’t missed it. It’s next week. That’s very kind of you, but you shouldn’t have, really.’
