Free Honour Bound by Keith Walker Page B

around the windows set in shouldered arches on each of the
three floors. Lush green lawns rolled away from the house ending at the
concrete lip of a man made lake. The lawns encircled the lake before joining
seamlessly with the mature woodland that surrounded the estate. 
    Stride
drove the car into the sweeping curve in front of the house, stopping at the
edge of a large covered area several yards from the main
doors.   
    "Don't
forget," Eastman said, "no more than ten minutes."
    Stride
nodded. Eastman shut the car door behind him. His shoes clicked like those of a
tap dancer on the mirror like marble surface as he walked to the polished
double doors of Langdon's home. The left hand side of the doors swung open on
his approach.
    "Hello
Manton," he said, recalling the butlers name from his last visit.
    "Good
evening sir." Manton said, bowing slightly. "Sir Reginald is
expecting you." He closed the door behind Eastman. "If
you would care to follow me sir."
    "Lead
on Manton, lead on."
    "This way sir."
    Eastman
followed the diminutive butler along a picture-lined corridor, eventually
stopping by another large double door.
    "One
moment please." He opened one of the doors and announced, "Mr.
Eastman to see you Sir Reginald."
    Langdon's
voice sounded from inside the room. "Please, show him in."
    The
butler stood aside and Eastman passed into a large brightly lit library, the
door closing silently behind him. His attention was drawn to a large open fire
in the centre of the room, the stonework blackened at the top through years of
use. A huge iron chimney hung from the ceiling, gathering up smoke from the
burning logs crackling merrily in the grate. He looked around. Antique
bookcases stretched the length of one wall, filled to capacity with ancient,
leather bound tomes. His untrained eye picked out the elegant framework of two
Chippendale cabinets standing side by side like two old brothers talking of
better times long since past. A collection of delicate crystal and hand carved
ivory was shared between them, as if on display in a grand museum. Oil
paintings of castles and stately homes adorned the dark, wood panelled walls.
Heavy drapes at each window added to the comfort of the room.
    Langdon
was sitting in a huge, thickly upholstered chair behind a solid looking, well
used desk. A brass reading lamp with a green shade reared from behind a paper
filled wire basket like a Cobra poised to strike. A small shiver ran down
Eastman's back. Someone walking over my grave, he thought.
    "Take
a seat Mr. Eastman, dinner will be ready shortly." He waved to an equally
large chair on the opposite side of the desk.
    Eastman
ignored the offer and remained standing. "Unfortunately," he said,
"something has come up and I have to go straight back to London. So if you
can let me have my money I'll be on my way."
    "How
sad, Manton had prepared something special for your visit. Still, business is
business. Your money is in the safe in my study,” he pointed towards the door,
"just across the hall."
    As
Langdon rose from his chair, he reached into the open top drawer of the desk
and took out a Browning 9mm pistol fitted with an Eastman supplied silencer. He
fired once, the noise barely more than a muffled cough. The arms dealer
staggered backwards from the force of the impact. Langdon quickly fired a
second time. The bullet penetrated Eastman's brain via his right eye, and he
dropped to the floor like a punctured balloon.
    Langdon
knelt beside the body and ripped open the dead man's shirt. The first bullet,
now flattened, was embedded in the weave of a Kevlar vest designed to protect
soldiers on the battlefield.
    "The
bugger didn't trust me," he said, feigning surprise.
    The
door opened and Manton entered the room, glancing down at the body, he said,
"There's another one by the car outside."
    "Get
him in here." Langdon said. "Tell him there are two cases," he
nodded towards Eastman's corpse, "and our friend here needs a hand."
    Stride
was sitting on