condensed master

Will Bonner
into the darkness below. It could only have been two seconds but it seemed much
longer as he felt the sensation of falling. There was even enough time to conjure up
the thought "if I fall much further I'm dead" before his body hit the ground amongst
the beds below and rolled uncontrollably down the steep incline into the cover of
a large Rhododendron bush, some thirty feet or so below.
Lying there, bruised and battered, but thankful to still be in one piece he
looked through the leaves to see two of the men leaning over the brick wall
scanning the area below. They must be private security. The police wouldn't have
keys for the house, but how did they happen to be on the spot at precisely that
time? There could only be one plausible answer.
Somewhere in that house they must have tripped an alarm that was connected
back to the company. Something that Paul obviously didn't know about. The lights
above went out and after a couple of minutes it felt safe to painfully make his way
back towards the road where Alec's car was parked. Before leaving the security
of the trees he looked across towards the roadway to see a car pull out of the rear
driveway.
They would have Alec in there, and he would probably still be receiving the
treatment. He felt for Alec, although under normal circumstances and considering
what Alec did for a living the thought did not feel right, but at that moment it
seemed appropriate. They had no need to beat him up like that. Alec was a real
passive type.
Brushing himself down and making sure that the coast was clear Will stepped
out on to the road. Alec's car was where they had left it but he walked right by.
The police would no doubt pick it up later.
Heading for the electric suburban railway station at Beaumaris he caught a
train going north along the coast road to the city. Trains were running every half
hour and he soon changed to the only destination that would serve his purpose,
Park Orchards, a twenty minute walk from Margaret's house.
It was around 10.30 p.m. by the time he climbed the last two hundred yards
up the incline. He felt as though his body was fighting every painful movement.
Climbing the stairs he knocked loudly on the door. There was no sound of
movement, but he knew that she was in, as he had passed her car below. A
graphic thought appeared from out of his memory. Was she pointing a shotgun at
the door? It would be the ultimate irony after all he had gone through, to be blasted
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