4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Hugh
H ugh was pacing. Six steps to the door, turn, six steps to the window, then six more steps back to the wall where the bed was. On repeat. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d repeated his route after he became aware that he was being watched through the window.
On the ledge, on the other side of the barred window, sat three birds: a robin, a blackbird and a crow. They all watched him, their heads cocked to one side. Hugh was freaked out. When did birds act like that in synchronisation? He shook his head, convinced he was still affected by the blow he’d taken. He closed his eyes and then opened them again. The three birds were still there.
He moved closer to the window. He’d looked at it when he’d been first shoved into the attic, looking for a way out. Beyond the window were overgrown gardens and a boundary wall, upon which sat about twenty more birds, all different sizes and species. Weird.
Looking further he could see they were on the top of a rise, and he could just make out the woods around the property. They were in the countryside somewhere, but he didn’t think it was too far from York, as they hadn’t been in the Land Rover that long.
Some of the birds took off from the boundary wall and others appeared to take their place. The three on the window ledge continued to watch him, heads cocked.
There was a noise at the door and Hugh turned towards it. One of Swales’s goons entered and smirked at Hugh. In his hand he held a taser. Hugh swallowed. He’d been tased before and it hadn’t been a pleasant experience.
“Mr. Swales wants to see you.” The goon gestured with the taser for Hugh to go in front of him before shoving him roughly down two flights of stairs. Hugh barely managed to keep his feet under him. Then he was propelled into a side room, where Swales was sitting drinking tea at the table.
“Ah, Hugh. So glad you could join us.”
Swales gestured to the other side of the table, but Hugh shook his head. The goon shoved him in the back, so Hugh moved over and reluctantly sat down.
“Thank you, Bentley.” Swales motioned for the other man to go stand by the door. Hugh knew the taser could reach him from there, so he kept a wary eye on him.
“What’s going on, Swales? Why the kidnapping?” he asked.
“You weren’t doing your job. Falcon Byrde should have been dead by now.”
Hugh looked at him in confusion. The job had been to keep an eye on Falcon and find out if he was involved in what had happened to the Goodkind family, not to take him out without prejudice.
“That was never in my instructions!” he protested. “No? I seem to recall telling you to take the initiative.”
“That doesn’t mean to kill someone willy nilly!” he roared, half getting out of his seat. Bentley moved forward menacingly, and Hugh sat back down. “You’re mad!”
Swales just sipped his tea, buttered a crumpet and took a big bite out of it. After swallowing, he gave his attention to Hugh once more.
“No. I think the word you’re looking for is psychopath,” he said calmly.
Hugh blinked and looked at his boss. This was so weird. Though he didn’t know Swales that well, he could swear that he was dealing with a completely different person. His eyes narrowed as he really looked at the man sitting across from him.
“You’re not Robert Swales,” he declared finally.
“Give the man a prize.” Not-Swales gave him a slow clap. “Took you long enough. I thought you were the best?”
Hugh shook his head in disbelief. What was going on here? “Who are you then?” he asked.
“Ian Swales at your service. Well, not really.” He giggled. Giggled! Hugh was beginning to think the man was deranged. “You’re Robert’s brother?”
“Twin actually,” the other man answered. “Don’t worry, Robert is perfectly well. He’s having a well-deserved rest at a secure and restful sanatorium. The staff have been told he’s under the impression he’s Robert when he’s actually Ian.”
“That’s…” Hugh had no words. The man was certifiably mad.
“What do you want?” he decided to try and get to the bottom of what was happening.
“I want you to kill Falcon Byrde.”
“Why?”
“He’s in my way.”
“That’s not a good enough reason to kill him. I’m not doing your dirty work for you!”
“You will kill him!” Ian roared, launching himself out of his seat and clearing the table with a sweep of his arm.
“No! You can’t make me.”
Ian grinned. He gestured to Bentley who, without warning, shot Hugh with the taser. Hugh gasped and arched his body as he felt the electricity shoot through him. He slipped off the chair until he was lying beside it in a sprawl.
“Put him back in the attic,” Ian said, back to acting like the suave man he’d appeared to be at first. “I need to get back to the office and catch up with little Imogen.”
Hugh felt blackness surround him. “No…” he whispered, trying to speak. “Leave…”
“What was that?” Ian smiled at him as he stepped over Hugh and headed for the door.
A couple of moments later, Bentley picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. Hugh hung there, swearing inside. He’d not recovered enough from being tasered yet to take Bentley down. All he could do was hang there and moan.
Bentley unceremoniously dumped him on the bed in the attic room, and Hugh sprawled there. He tried to turn over and groaned as his limbs began to come back online. Pins and needles made their way down his arms and legs, and he shuddered. He hated being helpless like this. His mind was churning. He’d not known that Robert Swales had a twin brother. He’d never heard of Ian before. Robert had obviously kept that close to his chest.
He groaned again as he turned over, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard. He managed to grab the glass of water that he’d left on the bedside cabinet.
He took a grateful sip of water, before putting it back down again. As he turned his head, he noticed that there were still three birds lined up on his windowsill, though they were different from earlier. This time there was a pigeon, a swallow and a blackbird. All watching him with their heads cocked to one side. What the hell was going on?
Feeling the effects of the taser still running through his system, Hugh gave into exhaustion and fell asleep on the bed.
A couple of hours later, Hugh awoke to a hear loud noise that sounded like things crashing together. He shot off the bed, grateful his body felt okay again.
He could hear shouting and more noises, but then it all went quiet. Quickly, he looked around the room for anything he could use as a weapon. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he would rather be prepared than not. There was nothing that he could use though. He quickly moved behind the door; maybe he could take whoever it was by surprise when they entered the room.
There were sounds on the stairs and then the door was thrust open. Hugh tensed, ready to attack Bentley or another of Swales’s goons when to his surprise, Falcon Byrde came through the door. He drew back his fist just in time to avoid hitting the other man in the face.
“What the hell?” he asked.
Falcon looked at him and smiled. “Good to see you’re in one piece.”
Hugh shook his head. What? How?
“Hugh!” That was Imogen’s voice. How was she here?
“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” she said as she entered the room, flinging herself into his arms. He held her close, feeling her trembling as they hugged tightly.
“Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest. “It’s been a hard couple of days.”
Hugh could only nod and take in the sight of Falcon Byrde, and another man he’d not seen before who was standing in the corridor.
“Francis Byrde.” The tall, red-haired man held his hand out for Hugh to shake. “How did you find me?” he asked as they made their way downstairs.
“Let’s just say a little bird told us where you were.” Falcon grinned at him as they entered the lobby.
Hugh turned to look at him, but at that moment, another of the brothers – Ollie, Hugh thought – approached them.
“All clear,” he said.
“No sign of Swales?” Francis asked. Ollie shook his head.
“I’ve no idea what he’s playing at.” Imogen twined her arm with one of Hugh’s. “Did he say anything to you, Hugh?”
He turned to face them all and grimaced. “That was not Robert Swales.”
“What?” Imogen stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“That was his psychopathic twin, Ian Swales.” Imogen gaped at him. “But… but…”
“Yeah, I know. Took me by surprise as well.”
“Then where’s our boss?”
“In some sanatorium somewhere under Ian’s name.”
“Shit.” Francis Byrde came to stand near them. “Ian’s on the loose again?”
“You know him?” Hugh asked stunned.
“Knew him.” Francis replied. “I was at school with both Robert and Ian. Let’s just say Ian and I never got along. He was always a bit off. It wasn’t until later when he killed a man and was sent to a secure psychiatric hospital that we all realised just how ill he was.”
Hugh shook his head. “Why target Falcon then? Why not you?” “How do you mean, target me?” Falcon asked.
“He was most insistent that you were in his way. He was practically foaming at the mouth and shouting at me to kill you.”
Falcon turned white and Hugh ached to reach out to comfort him.
Francis drew in a breath. “I can’t think of any reason why he’d want my son dead.”
Hugh shook his head. What a mess.
“Okay,” Ollie said, “the police are on their way to take the ‘help’ into custody. Let’s get out of here, while we still can.”
Hugh followed them out into a large courtyard, where two black SUVs were parked. He and Imogen got into the one driven by Falcon and as Hugh slid into his seat, he could see dozens of birds take off into the sky and disappear.
Something strange was going on with that. He shook his head, too tired to think about it now. He’d think about it when they got back to York.
Falcon
They were sitting at one of the tables in the courtyard of The Judge’s Lodging . Francis joined them with an older woman in tow. She was wearing the uniform of the hotel reception staff and looked concerned.
“This is Paula, she’s the day manager on duty. I’ve given her the description of the waiter you gave me, Imogen.”
The woman turned to them and shook her head. “It doesn’t match the description of any of the waiters or bar staff we employ. We’ve found out this morning that the fire in the kitchen yesterday was set deliberately.”
After a couple more minutes of her apologising to them for the disruption the previous evening and giving them some money off vouchers for future use, she went back up the outside stairs to reception.
“I don’t understand,” Hugh said to Francis.
“Swales must have been following you. He probably acted on the spur of the moment and inserted the young man as a waiter. How many other people were around? Were there many staff?”
“Only about half a dozen tables were taken,” Imogen replied. “I don’t remember seeing any other staff outside.”
Falcon looked to the large building that housed The Judge’s Lodging and Cellar Bar . There was still soot around one of the windows in the kitchen. They’d been told they were only serving drinks until the kitchen was cleared. It made sense; smoke from fires could cause a lot of damage and take some time to be cleared up.
“Is there anyone in your agency you can trust with investigating this?” Francis asked her.
Imogen shook her head. “There aren’t many of us to begin with, and most are out on assignment. There’s usually only myself and Peter in the office, along with Swales, though he’s been absent more than usual recently.”
“You could ask Gil,” Hugh said. “I think he’s finished his last assignment.”
Imogen slowly nodded. “It’s a possibility. I’ll phone him later.”
“Can you go back to the office and try and access any relevant records?” Falcon asked her.
Imogen sighed. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her smart phone and opened it for Francis and Falcon to see. She showed them the email she’d received from Swales that morning telling her she was fired and not to go near the office if she wanted to avoid legal action being taken against her.
“So that’s it,” she said when they gave her the phone back. “I’m shut out, I can’t even access the computers remotely as I usually do.”
Francis shook his head. “You’re forgetting that wasn’t your boss who sent that. That was Ian.”
Imogen looked at Francis, her eyes big, then she grinned. “Good point. I thought there was something odd going on with Swales. He’s being acting strangely for the last couple of months. Sending people on jobs we wouldn’t normally take. Gil, the agent Hugh just mentioned, refused a job recently, stating it wasn’t within the agency’s parameters.”
Hugh interjected a comment here and there but admitted that he hardly knew Swales and that Imogen saw the most of him. Falcon watched Hugh as he sat nursing a mineral water. He was fascinated by the other man, even knowing he’d been sent there to spy on him. He thought back to his search for Hugh earlier that day.
He was soaring high above York again. This time he was looking out through the eyes of a swallow who was dipping and diving, searching for its dinner. From there he moved further out, spreading his senses as far as he could, connecting with several birds at once. He asked for them to look for the man whose picture he thrust into their minds. He flew with many around the York area, moving east, west, south and north. He really hoped that Hugh was nearby, that he had not been moved far. Reports from his contacts started to come back to him. They weren’t in words as such, mostly pictures, but he understood what they were telling him.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Something?
That report was from three birds: a robin, a blackbird and a crow. He concentrated on them and followed them to an old house to the north of York. Near Earswick. No, further north than that. Haxby?
It was hard to get exact destinations from the birds as they didn’t use road maps as humans did and didn’t know nor care about the names of places. It was landmarks which Falcon recognised that led him to the areas where these three birds were.
He found himself looking in through three different pairs of eyes at Hugh. He was in an attic room, pacing back and forth. Falcon watched as another man with a taser in hand came into the room and motioned for Hugh to move out.
Falcon moved his attention to the birds around the house, landing with several of them on the walls around the garden. Cawing loudly, they told him they’d keep watch.