Arthur Quinn and Hell's Keeper (8 page)

BOOK: Arthur Quinn and Hell's Keeper
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He looked Ash straight in the eyes. ‘She told me she would always be there for me, always keep me safe. I just can't imagine how she could be like that and have something like Hel inside her.'

Ash squeezed his hand again, unsure of what to say. At that moment her phone rang. They all looked at her with wide, worried eyes – even Eirik and Ex in the front – as she pulled it out of her pocket.

‘It's Mom,' she said, reading the display. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the touchscreen.

‘Answer it,' said Ellie.

‘I can't.' She pushed it into Ellie's hands. ‘You do it.'

‘What? What am I supposed to say?' She gave it back quickly. The ringtone seemed to get louder with each second. ‘You answer it.'

Ash looked down at the phone again.

‘No,' she said. ‘She must know by now that we mitched school. She'll want to know where I am.'

‘Make something up,' Arthur told her. ‘Say you're at Ellie and Ex's.'

Ash shook her head. ‘She'll hear the car engine. It's not exactly subtle.'

‘It doesn't look like she's going to give up,' Ex said, as the sound continued. ‘Just answer the phone.'

‘I can't … I don't know what to …' She looked around at them uncertainly. ‘What am I supposed to tell her … I–'

Before she knew what he was doing, Eirik reached back, plucked the phone from her grasp, screwed down his window and threw it out. The ringing sound was cut off the instant it hit the ground.

‘Well …' said Ellie after a moment of silence. ‘That was one way of dealing with it.'

Garda Eddie McKean was on traffic duty but Garda Eddie McKean hated traffic duty. It meant sitting in a squad car that either got too cold or too hot, parked in a lonely lay-by and aiming a speedometer gun at the vehicles whizzing past on the motorway. His wrist muscles invariably grew weary of holding up the gun and his eyesight started to blur from staring at the read-out monitor for so long. Every time a car or bus or truck went by within the speed limit, the gun would beep once. But the rare times that something was going too fast, his squad car would be filled with an irritating chirping sound that lasted ten or twelve seconds.

He was just starting to believe that this afternoon was a bust when something drew his attention to the motorway. A small, dark shape flew through the air and landed right on the grassy verge. Whatever it was, it was thrown from the window of a passing blue Volkswagen Beetle.

Garda Eddie McKean wasn't a fan of litterers to begin with, but it wasn't the sight of the broken phone a few yards from his car that got his blood up on this occasion. It was the sight of the Beetle itself.

He looked down at the handful of faxes that had come through on the wire not an hour previously. Sure enough, right on top of the pile was the order to pursue a 1960s pastel-blue VW Beetle. The note read: ‘Pursue but do not detain until suspects have reached final location, at which point contact Detective P. Morrissey in Pearse Street Station.'

Garda Eddie McKean smiled to himself – some action at last – dropped the speed gun on the pile of faxes, straightened his cap, revved the engine and shot off.

‘Incoming!' said Ex anxiously from the driver's seat.

‘Huh?' asked Ellie.

‘Incoming! Behind us!'

All but Ex turned to look through the rear windscreen. The motorway consisted of three lanes on each side of the road, and most of the cars were doing the top speed limit of 120 kph. At this time of the evening – an hour or so before rush hour truly began – there were only a few vehicles on either side of the thoroughfare. They could see three cars coming up behind them, at various distances. But Ash knew that it was the one furthest away that Ex had spotted. The squad car was still about half a kilometre away.

‘How long has it been following?' asked Ellie.

‘Not long,' Ex told her. ‘Since Eirik dumped the phone.'

The Viking grunted softly and shrugged apologetically.

‘It's not his fault,' said Ash. ‘I bet it's Detective Morrissey's doing.' The words spilled out before she could stop them.

‘What?' cried Arthur. ‘Why?'

‘He's been keeping a close eye on me over the past few weeks.'

He turned on her, annoyed. ‘You didn't tell me that!'

‘We didn't want to worry you and we thought we'd lost him.'

‘Well, I'm worried now,' he said, gazing back through the windscreen.

‘OK, OK, I'm sorry. He must have had the cops watching out for us when he worked out we'd left school. The car isn't very inconspicuous. But what do we do now?'

‘If we get caught, the best-case scenario is that he brings us straight home,' said Ellie.

‘That can't happen,' said Arthur. ‘We don't have the time.'

‘So …?' prompted Ex, waiting for orders.

Arthur looked over his shoulder at the squad car one last time.

‘We have to lose him,' he said.

‘Evasive measures, Ex,' said Ellie.

‘Evasive measures,' said Ex, the ghost of a smile creeping across his lips.

He pressed harder on the accelerator and wound from one lane to another and then back again, squeezed between two cars. As soon as he could, Ex pumped the speed even more and swerved in front of a huge articulated truck, giving them momentary cover from the pursuing Garda.

Garda Eddie McKean had just confirmed that the licence plate on the Beetle matched the registration on the fax when the little blue car sped up. He growled to himself, realising they'd spotted him, and leaned over the steering wheel. Time to change tactics. In all his years in uniform no one had gotten away from him and he didn't intend to break that record now.

He hit a switch under the dash and stamped his foot on the accelerator.

‘Oh great,' Ellie said sarcastically as the squad car's sirens started crying and the blue lights on top flashed brightly. ‘And there's the cherry on top!' She swivelled in her seat to look back at her brother. ‘Ex, be more evasive than that!'

He stamped his foot further down on the accelerator. The Beetle revved, struggling to reach the speeds Ex was attempting to push it to. Meanwhile, the Garda was in the middle lane, gradually closing the gap between them. He overtook a car in the inside lane and was rapidly catching up to the next car in his lane – a white Nissan. Arthur could see the driver: an elderly woman hunched over the wheel and squinting over her hands. She was just staring straight ahead, taking her time, and didn't notice the squad car coming up behind her. A massively long lorry rumbled along next to her in the right-hand lane, which meant that the Garda was stuck behind the slow elderly driver and the truck was preventing him overtaking. Suddenly, the squad car accelerated more and moved into the left-hand lane. But as it did, the woman steered her car to the left, heading for a turn-off. She didn't bother signalling and didn't hear the furious horn-honks of the Garda as he had to break suddenly to avoid a crash. He fell behind and, for a brief moment, Arthur hoped it would stay that way. But once the Nissan was off the motorway, the squad car sped up once more, moving rapidly towards them.

Meanwhile, Garda Eddie McKean could feel his face reddening with anger. This was not turning out to be his evening.

‘Faster, Ex!' urged Arthur. ‘He's right behind us! Go faster!'

‘I'm going as fast as I can,' Ex muttered through gritted teeth. ‘This is an old car. We'll never outrun him.'

The squad car came up alongside them on the right-hand side. Arthur could see the Garda inside gesticulating frantically at them with one arm. Although Arthur couldn't hear what he was shouting, he knew it was ‘Pull over now!' Spittle flew out of the Garda's mouth and Arthur even noticed a blue vein pop out on his forehead, throbbing rapidly.

But before McKean could overtake them – and force them to stop the car – Ex swerved suddenly to the right. The Garda just managed to avoid the Beetle, braking and falling behind it. He punched his fist on the wheel and the horn blared angrily. He pushed the car into gear and accelerated again. He was coming up on their left-hand side now, gesturing wildly through the window at Ellie. The blue light lit up her face rhythmically.

‘What do we do?' she said, staring back at the Garda with wide eyes.

‘We can't stop,' answered Arthur. ‘Whatever happens, we have to get to Farranfore.'

‘But he's going to keep going until he catches us,' said Ash. ‘He'll radio for help if we don't stop.'

‘
Grnk!
' grunted Eirik from the passenger seat. ‘
Nwk qus gwnkl!
'

The others looked at each other, none of them understanding what he'd been trying to say. When he saw the looks of confusion, he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. He reached out to Arthur and took his hand.

‘Ar-khur,' he said before letting go. Then, without any warning, he unhooked his seat belt, flung open the passenger door and leaped out of the speeding car.

A shocked silence filled the Beetle as Eirik sailed towards the squad car. Ex swerved in his surprise but quickly brought the car back under control, the momentum causing the door to slam shut. As the others watched, Eirik landed with a thump on the bonnet of the Garda's car. He gripped it, digging his fingers under the small lip around the edge. Garda Eddie McKean cried out at the appearance of a centuries-old Viking on the hood of his car. He veered to the left and straight onto the grassy slope at the side of the motorway. Mud and earth sprayed into the air as Eirik was thrown off the car onto his back. The car itself came to a crunching halt as the bonnet hit the bottom of the incline at speed.

As Ex sped further away from the crash site, the others looked out through the back window. The front end of the squad car was embedded in the earth and the back wheels were spinning uselessly in mid-air. Eirik had managed to get into a sitting position and was triumphantly watching them go while Garda Eddie McKean struggled out of the car, staring helplessly after the rapidly dwindling Beetle. He kicked his driver's door furiously and turned to apprehend Eirik, but the Viking was disappearing into the thick woodland beyond the embankment.

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