Dead Man's Gift 02 - Last Night Read Free Page B

would just hurt. Instead he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come.

12
1.57 a.m.
    The sound of the landline roused Tim Horton from an uneasy slumber.
    He sat up and for a couple of seconds wondered what he was doing in the dining room in the middle of the night with the lights on and Diane sat across the table opposite him. Then reality hit him like a single hard punch to the gut as he remembered everything.
    Diane was the first to pick up the handset. She listened for a couple of seconds – a stiff, blank expression on her face – before putting the phone on loudspeaker and placing the handset in the middle of the table.
    The kidnapper’s disguised voice immediately came on the line. ‘You fucked us up, Horton!’ he yelled, his words tearing round the room. ‘Now your son pays. Listen to this.’
    There was a two-second pause, then Max’s voice came on the line. ‘I’m scared!’ he was crying. ‘Please don’t hurt me. Please … Mummy!’
    Diane let out an animal howl and grabbed wildly at the handset, putting it to her ear. ‘I’m here, baby, it’s going to be all right. Mummy’s here!’
    ‘Put the phone back on the table now!’ yelled the kidnapper.
    She slammed it back down as if it were burning her hand.
    ‘You’d better start telling the truth, Horton, otherwise your boy’s going to get very badly hurt. We know for a fact you’ve sent someone to find your son, because he killed an associate of ours, which was a very, very bad move on his part, and an even worse one on yours. Now who the fuck is he? Tell me right now or I instruct another associate to cut one of your son’s thumbs off. I’ll then send you the video of it, and I’ll make you fucking watch it as well, every last second, and if you don’t, we’ll start on his fingers. Do you understand me?’
    Panic reeled through Tim’s head. What the hell had Scope done? Was Orla dead? And did he admit the truth when, by doing so, he might well be sentencing his son to death?
    Diane was staring at him with a combination of shock and pure animal rage. There’d be no support from her here. Right now, he was totally and utterly on his own.
    ‘Talk, Horton. Who did you call?’
    The moment of truth.
    Tim ran a hand down his face. It was moist with sweat. ‘All right, all right. I did call someone. I thought he might be able to help.’ He twisted in his seat, avoiding the condemnation in his wife’s eyes. ‘But I had no choice. I don’t want to die.’
    ‘You bastard!’ screamed Diane. ‘You cowardly fucking bastard!’
    She was across the table in seconds, her hands outstretched like claws.
    He felt nails raking down his face as his wife attacked him with all her strength, knocking him to the floor in her rage. He managed to grab her wrists and keep them away, but her force and anger surprised him. She spat in his face, screaming abuse, the tears running down her face, and in those terrible moments the love he’d once felt for her suddenly returned, and he wished there was something he could say to take her fear away.
    ‘Get off him now, Mrs Horton!’ screamed the kidnapper through the speaker. ‘Or I’ll cut your boy’s throat myself!’
    The fight seemed to disappear from Diane in an instant and, still panting, she stood back up and turned away from Tim, who lay on the floor, his face stinging from her scratches.
    ‘Where’s the phone you used, Mr Horton?’ said the kidnapper as Tim sat back in his chair, keeping his head down like a chastised schoolboy.
    He took the spare mobile from his trouser pocket and placed it on the table.
    ‘Who’s the man you called?’
    Tim sighed. ‘His name’s Scope. He used to be married to Diane’s sister.’
    ‘Oh God, Tim. What have you done?’
    ‘Shut up, Mrs Horton,’ snapped the kidnapper. ‘And why did you think he could help?’
    ‘He’s ex-army, and I know he’s been in some tight situations and got out of them. I thought it would be more effective than going to the