Page 99 of The Final Vow (Washington Poe #7)
Poe thought he was right. This was the fourth potential site Towler had identified but was easily the most promising. And the best thing was, Poe would have to pass the first three en route anyway.
Towler got to his feet. Studied the rest of the area. ‘No, this is it,’ he said. ‘You’ll be in dead ground until the last twenty metres or so, so you can make decent time. No need to crawl.’
‘And the last twenty metres? I’ll be exposed. And he’ll be hyperalert.’
‘He will, but not on what’s behind him. He’ll be in the sniper’s bubble by then.
Your light will have come on. He’ll be waiting for your front door to open.
One hundred per cent of his brain power will be focused on taking that shot.
You could march up to him whacking a great big drum and he wouldn’t hear you.
’ Towler shook his head. ‘No, just make sure you’re in position when your lights go on. Do that, and you have him.’
He rubbed his wet hands on his smock.
‘I only know what I’ve been told about you,’ he continued.
‘So, I’ll just say this – when it comes down to it, you don’t muck about reading him his rights; you finish it faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.
His instinct will be to hold on to his weapon.
It’s a gun. He has one and you don’t. But that’s going to be a mistake.
Sniper rifles are Gucci as fuck at distance, but they’re shit up close.
They’re too long, too unwieldy. So, while he’s trying to turn it round and aim it, you kick him in the fucking head.
And you keep kicking until his skull is mushy and his brain is coming out of his ears. ’
‘I’ll bring my frying pan,’ Poe said.
‘I don’t know you well enough to know if you’re joking,’ Towler said.
‘I was joking.’
‘Pity. Now, I have a gap in my schedule. I assume you want me here with you?’
Poe shook his head. ‘Just me.’
‘You sure?’
‘I know this fell. Puck doesn’t. And with the greatest of respect, neither do you. Also, Puck knows what you look like. He’ll have seen you when he murdered Archie Arreghini’s daughter. You can’t even be in the same postcode.’
‘What support will you have?’
‘Nothing. We can’t tell anyone what we’re doing. Locke says he’ll have eyes and ears inside the investigation tent. He might be right, he might be wrong, but we can’t take the risk. It has to be just me.’
Towler frowned, unhappy. Eventually he said, ‘I can’t see any other way. Just you and him it is then. “Two men enter, one man leaves.”’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a line from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome . Have you seen it?’
‘I don’t have a TV.’
Towler’s eyeroll could have powered Herdwick Croft for a year. ‘Of course you fucking don’t.’
Poe mentally rehearsed what he would need to do. Decided he’d have as many dry runs as he could fit in. The grass was tough enough and wiry enough to spring back. He wouldn’t leave a trail.
‘How are you planning to turn yourself into a target?’ Towler asked.
Poe told him.
‘That’ll do it,’ Towler grinned. ‘I might even donate a tenner myself.’
‘Come on,’ Poe said. ‘Let’s have another beer. Make sure we’ve thought of everything. And while we do that, you can help me loosen the roof slates at the back of the house. I need to be able to get them off silently on the night.’
They removed four slates from his bathroom roof, a gap big enough for Poe to crawl through and drop to the soft ground without making an ‘Oof’ sound. They put them back on, examined their work from the outside. Even up close you couldn’t tell they were no longer fixed to the roof.
When they’d finished, they had another Spun Gold.
‘Nice beer that,’ Towler said. He held out his hand. They shook. ‘Let’s hope we get to share another.’
Towler kept hold of his hand. He looked Poe in the eye and said, ‘You have PTSD.’
It wasn’t a question.
‘Who told you?’
‘No one told me, Poe. It’s as clear as the spots on my arse.’
‘What a lovely phrase.’
‘You can’t give that bastard an inch,’ Towler said. ‘When this is over, me and you are going to talk about it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because talking about it is how you fix that shit.’ He let go of Poe’s hand. ‘Now, go and catch this prick, you fucking mental bastard.’