Free Maura's Game by Martina Cole Page A

him with Michael. It was the only actual murder she had ever taken part in and it still preyed on her mind. It was so long ago yet it felt as real to her now as it had then. The sickness was in her stomach again and she swallowed it down.
    They were now directly outside the property and Kenny was asking for entry on the intercom but no one was answering them. He turned back to the car.
    “No one home.”
    “We’ll see about that.”
    Garry opened the panel and tinkered with it. A minute later the electric gates opened. As they drove towards the house they watched with pleasure as the Dobermans made a hasty exit through the open gates.
    The house was even larger close up. From the winding driveway they could see the indoor swimming pool and sauna in a glass-sided extension. It really was some property. It was also lit up like Battersea power station yet there seemed to be no one about.
    Garry sighed.
    “Not Hide and Seek, surely? He’s supposed to be a bit of a face, ain’t he?”
    Kenny shrugged.
    “So are you, Garry, remember?”
    They finished the drive in silence. When they got to the front door they all climbed out of the car. It was eerie; the whole place had the feeling of echoing emptiness that large houses always have when unoccupied.
    “Break in, Garry,” Maura ordered.
    He was already working on it. She saw that Kenny was nervous and smiled nastily.
    “Don’t worry, he’s an expert. No Old Bill will arrive. Garry could get into the Bank of England.”
    “Knowing him, he’s a frequent visitor.”
    Even Maura had to laugh at this quip and the atmosphere calmed down a little.
    “That’s all we need now, done for fucking breaking and entering! We could never hold up our heads again.”
    Maura and Garry laughed uproariously. Two minutes later the front door was open and they were in the spacious entrance hall.
    “Fuck me, this is real money. They must be coming it in.”
    The awe in Kenny’s voice was not lost on Maura.
    “Lot of money in gras sing so I hear.”
    He didn’t answer her. They walked through to an imposing pair of doors and Maura pushed them open. It was an act she was to regret: the scene of carnage before them was as outrageous as it was sickening. It also brought back memories she had long tried to suppress. Maura assumed the headless corpses on the floor of the drawing room were those of Rebekka and her husband, but none of them stuck around long enough to find out.
    All Maura saw was Sammy, Rebekka’s father. He had been headless as well by the time her brother Michael had finished exacting his revenge. This was so like the death scene that Maura felt the icy fingers of fear on her neck.
    Whoever was causing all this carnage knew far too much about them all, and that was what frightened her the most.
    This was someone they all knew. It had to be someone very close.
    The question was, who?
    Lee was with one of the Ryans’ long-time associates, an old lag called Denny Thomas. Denny had been a breaker in his day and though now retired he made beer money by keeping his ear to the ground. Everyone knew and liked him, consequently he heard most of what was going on. Occasionally, as now, he was used as the bearer of bad news.
    “What do you want, Denny?”
    Lee looked round the small council flat and tried unsuccessfully to find a clean place to sit. He finally opted for the arm of a battered leather sofa.
    “Come on, spit it out, I ain’t got all night.”
    Denny looked nervous and this told Lee he really wasn’t going to like this.
    “Someone just tried to nut Vic Joliff in Belmarsh.”
    Lee closed his eyes in consternation.
    “Who, Denny? Who tried to nut him?”
    Denny shrugged.
    “I don’t know.”
    Lee was struggling to keep a lid on his emotions. This was all they needed. He could see how nervous Denny was and felt a moment’s sorrow for the wreck of a man before him.
    Denny went to an old-fashioned bar unit, which still held traces of its former glory, and poured them