The Hunter's Prayer (18 page)

And now she knew something else too. As she thought of Ben and Alice, imagining them together, imagining the whole cycle of their relationship being played out, and all the others that might have lain ahead, she understood for the first time the full cruelty of the act she was avenging.

The pain he’d caused them wasn’t just the pain she felt, but the pain that Alice Shaw felt, the pain of everything that had been buried in that churchyard, and even if it was the last thing she did, she’d return it to him in full, every last ounce of it.

Chapter Nineteen

T
he day had stretched beyond itself, her nerves eating away at each other. It was the waiting; she’d waited six months and yet this final day, in sight of her goal, was the hardest to bear. It felt like her heart had slowed, her blood thickened.

Dan had seemed perfectly at ease, sitting out on the terrace with a drink, an air of repose like he’d gone into some sort of meditative trance. It had come as a relief when he’d finally stirred midway through the afternoon and headed off to take up his position down at the jetty.

An hour later he’d phoned to say he’d spotted the boat and time had notched down another gear. It had been at least thirty minutes now, and she was beginning to worry—that something had gone wrong, that Simon had seen through her plan, that Dan had double-crossed her.

She walked around, trying to glimpse the jetty from the upstairs windows, even though she knew it was out of sight, checking her appearance in the mirror, stopping at the sound of imagined noises.

The stillness in the house was eerie. At first she’d put it down to its emptiness, the fact that the staff were all off for the night, that there was no one else around. But the silence was total: no birdsong or insect noise. She’d heard plenty of times about the way nature paused before hurricanes, earthquakes, and that’s how it felt, like a portent.

Finally, the phone rang, so loud against this supernatural hush that it startled her and she had to let it ring a few times to get her composure back. It was Dan, cheery and unconcerned. ‘Okay, we’re ready for you.’

‘See you in a minute.’ She hung up the phone and walked over to the mirror again before walking out and through the gardens. She was trying not to think about what he’d meant by that—
we’re ready for you
—telling herself he’d meant nothing at all, that it was just the way he spoke.

Something wasn’t right, though, something she couldn’t put her finger on, the stillness like an omen. It was hot and the sun hadn’t set but that stillness was skewing everything like a dream. Only the tops of the tall palms were finding any movement in the air.

Clouds were stacking up on the horizon. They’d bring an early dusk, and as she reached the jetty and saw the boat, she felt the first touch of the developing breeze. Maybe that was it, a storm, and she wanted a storm. It would help them and seemed right for what was about to happen.

She could already see Dan on the deck, leaning nonchalantly against the open door, wearing his beach shirt and surf shorts. She’d never seen him look less like a hitman. He smiled and waved with his gun as she got close.

Stepping aboard, she noticed the boat rocking gently, the beginnings of a swell. Dan looked through the open door into the lounge, checking on the captives, then took a step towards Ella and spoke quietly.

‘Bit of a problem. He’s gone and brought the whole family with him.’

‘I know.’

‘Oh. Well, I put the kids in the front cabin so they don’t see you. I guessed you’d wanna do the wife. I mean, we have to, really; you don’t know how much she knows.’

‘Of course.’ She was glad she’d kept Dan in the dark on the full scale of her plans. He could bail out on her once this was done but she hadn’t wanted him following Lucas before she’d had her retribution. ‘Did you have any problems?’

He shrugged and said, ‘I had to give him a crack. I told them not to do anything stupid but he tried one on.’

She nodded and walked into the lounge, hot and airless even with the air conditioning. Simon and Lucy were sitting on one of the long cushioned seats, hands and feet bound, gagged. Lucy looked briefly hopeful and then confused at the sight of Ella, the first hint that she’d known nothing about it. Simon had a wound on the side of his head, the cheek run with blood. He didn’t look surprised when he saw her, just resigned.

Dan had followed her in and she said, ‘Take his gag off. Just his.’

She thought Simon might say something as soon as he was free but he didn’t, staring at her instead, inviting her to go first. It was the first time she’d seen him since finding out the truth and she’d expected to see something different in him. He looked as benign as ever, though, and if anything, wore an expression that suggested he was the one who’d been betrayed.

‘Why did you do it, Simon?’

‘Why did I do what, exactly?’

She glanced at Lucy, whose eyes still pleaded for an explanation, then back to Simon. ‘Lucas found Novakovic, who, in case you’re wondering, is the guy you paid to kill my family,
your
family.’

Lucy looked at him in horror. He shook his head. ‘You’re mistaken, Ella, or you’ve been led astray by these people. I’ve never heard that name before in my life.’

‘No, because you dealt with Bruno Brodsky, and he hired Novakovic, just like he hired the men who came for me in Italy. You thought you dealt with Brodsky anonymously but he’d dealt with that account before and recognized it from his records. Larsen Grohl, a company you neglected to tell me I own. Only two people had the authority to use that account: you and Dad. Dad hadn’t used it since January. You made two payments in June.’

‘This is ridiculous. Even these names—it’s all ridiculous. You’re wrong.’

‘No, I’m right. And if Dad hadn’t hired Lucas to protect me you would have got away with it. If you’d engineered an accident for me in the last six months you’d have got away with it. But you didn’t and now I’ve caught up with you. Just tell me why you did it.’

He shook his head slowly and said, ‘Ella, I didn’t do anything.’ He laughed to himself, saying, ‘How can I give you a reason for something I know absolutely nothing about?’

That laugh was the first chink in the armor, a window on the lie, a suggestion of the person he had to be to have done this. She latched onto it, drawing strength from it, and said to Dan, ‘Bring the kids out.’

Simon looked suddenly confused, too shocked to respond. Dan said, ‘You sure?’ She nodded and he made a move but then turned to Simon and said, ‘Mate, just tell her why you did it.’

‘Fuck you!’ It was aimed at Dan, but with Lucy crying out through her gag, he looked at Ella and said, ‘Ella, please . . .’

‘Dan, get the kids.’

Dan handed her the gun and left.

Lucy was trying to catch Ella’s eye, but Ella was looking directly at Simon, desperately searching his face for an indication of what was on his mind. She couldn’t believe she’d been fooled by him, that they’d all been so fooled. He had a slight defiant smile on his lips now, but she had the feeling it didn’t mean anything, that it was just a strange side effect of the shock he was in.

Dan came back in with George and Harry, gagged, hands bound in front of them. He was shepherding them like he was a nursery school teacher. Harry was old enough to know something was wrong and looked fearful at the sight of her there with a gun. George looked excited, though, as if in seeing her he’d suddenly realized it was all a game.

She said to Simon, ‘Clearly, you didn’t care about your brother, his wife, his children, but what about your own children, Simon? Tell me why you did it or I’ll have him kill them right now.’

Lucy pleaded through her gag to Simon and it seemed to be in response to her that he eventually said, ‘Okay, okay!’ He looked back at Ella with a certain righteous defiance, like a man defending himself in court. ‘Ella, you’ve been through a lot, I can see that, but please, I’m begging you to see reason now. I don’t care what other people have told you. Listen to me. I didn’t kill them.’

‘You don’t get it. Lying to me won’t save them. Tell me why you did it!’

‘I didn’t do anything!’ He produced a sudden burst of violent energy, his body buckling and straining against his bindings. Dan bristled, ready to make a move, but Simon calmed again and stared at her accusingly. ‘You’re sick, Ella; you need help.’

‘You made me sick. You killed my parents. You killed Ben. Now this is your last chance. Tell me.’

‘What do you want me to say? I did it to get my hands on the business? I did it because I always hated Mark? What? If it makes you happy, choose a reason and I’ll admit to it.’

‘I just want the truth!’

‘You don’t! I’ve told you the truth. You want me to lie to you, so tell me, just tell me the lie, and I’ll admit to it.’

She shook her head, disgusted with him for exploiting the intensity of her feelings to convince her she’d been led astray. And that angered her almost more than his crime, that he was denying her any kind of explanation. Even now, he was trying to play the innocent and cast her as the villain.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been silent when she heard him speak again.

‘Ella, I know you’re confused, but I’m asking you, just for one moment, to ignore everything you’ve heard or been told, everything you’ve imagined. Forget all of it. Just . . . Just look into your heart.’

Her heart. What did he know of her heart?

She turned to Dan and said, ‘Kill the kids.’ Lucy produced a muffled scream and Simon started to beg; she could hear her name being repeated, more desperate each time.

She concentrated her attention on Dan but he looked troubled, as though he hadn’t heard her properly, sounding apologetic as he finally said, ‘I don’t do kids.’

Ella was thrown by the comment, saying, ‘Why not?’

‘Nobody ever asked me. You know it isn’t right; they’re kids.’

She looked at them. The last time she’d seen them she’d loved them but she didn’t anymore, and not because of anything they’d done, but because her capacity to love anyone had been slowly crushed and was gone.

She had to kill them. If she let them live, then one day they’d no longer be innocents but people like her, seeking to avenge the deaths of their parents. And she wanted to kill them for the pain their deaths would inflict on Simon in the final few minutes of his life. That was her vengeance, to return that pain to him.

‘Okay, take all their gags off.’ She reached out and took the gun off him again, and he walked over and removed the gags. There was too much noise then and not enough air—the kids’ crying and Lucy’s desperate pleas added to Simon’s.

Dan came back over and said, ‘What now?’

She looked at Simon as she said, ‘This is for Ben.’ She lifted the gun, deaf to the pleas. She found Harry first, let his face slip out of focus beyond the end of the barrel, pulled the trigger.

Even with the silencer, the shot was loud enough to cause a momentary hiatus. It was broken by Simon’s animal wail, George’s high-pitched scream. She looked at Lucy but she’d fainted, lying slumped back on the seat now. Harry had been thrown onto the floor; she’d been aiming for his forehead but had hit his face and left it unrecognizable with chopped blood.

Without giving herself time to think she turned her aim on George and fired again. There was no hiatus this time, just the summary silencing of his terrified scream. She fired another shot at Lucy where she lay unconscious but missed, hitting the seat. On the second attempt she put a bullet right into the side of her head.

Simon’s wail descended slowly into a punch-drunk silence. She surveyed the wreckage—Lucy, the children’s bodies, their thin little legs sticking out of knee-length shorts, matching shirts because they’d been coming to dinner.

She’d lost all sense of Dan still being there but then she heard him speak.

‘Bloody hell! Why did you have to go and do that, Ella?’

She looked at him, his expression one of total bafflement, and scorn perhaps, and she said, ‘It was the least I could do.’ She turned back to Simon and said, ‘Look at your children, Simon, look at your wife. You did this to them. Innocent children, and you killed them just like you killed Ben, his whole life still ahead of him.’

He didn’t look at them, making eye contact with her instead, fixing her, unblinking. She was expecting him to say something, to abuse her, throw curses, but he remained silent, a lack of response that unnerved her.

‘Well, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?’ He still didn’t speak and it angered her. He didn’t deserve this now, to suddenly adopt a mantle of dignified silence. It wasn’t his right. She lifted the gun and shot at his body, the bullet hitting the side of his stomach, the blood soaking quickly into his shirt. Simon didn’t flinch, though, as though he hadn’t even felt it and wasn’t aware of the wound.

He continued to stare at her in silence. It crossed her mind that it wasn’t intentional, that he was simply too traumatized to say anything, but looking into his eyes, she knew that he was defying her, denying her the satisfaction of seeing him broken.

‘No last words at all?’ Nothing. There was a stillness and remoteness about him that infuriated her. Her arm felt tired but she lifted it one more time and shot him in the head, a good shot, the blood spurting out of him.

Fatigued, she held out the gun to Dan. The scene in front of her made no visual sense. Her feelings were confused, too, a strange mix of completeness and emptiness.

She produced a weak smile for Dan. He was staring down at George and Harry, though, and when he finally met her gaze all he could do was shake his head, his eyes swimming with a dulled contempt.

She couldn’t understand it. People like him and Lucas killed for money. They killed good and bad, guilty and innocent, offering no mercy to their victims. Who were they to think ill of her, to condemn what she’d done?

Dan was sickened because she’d refused to spare even the children, but that choice hadn’t been hers; it had been made for her by Simon. She’d returned to Simon what he’d so cruelly handed to her. She’d done unspeakable things but they’d been right. And she didn’t care whether Dan could see that or not; she knew it to be true.