Tales from the Edge 1 - Reaching the Edge by L.M. Somerton

Author:L.M. Somerton [Somerton, L.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * * *

“This place could be straight out of a scene from Stepford Wives.” Heath’s comment brought the ghost of a smile to Joe’s lips. They were parked a couple of hundred yards away from Mark Vickery’s Victorian detached house, which sat on a treelined street of similar buildings. Most had high walls to protect their privacy and cast-iron gates in front of their drives. Mark’s place was no exception. Two enormous oak trees that predated the house by a couple of centuries blocked any sight of the front door or groundfloor windows. Through the branches it was possible to catch glimpses of the roof, chimney pots and the glint of glass.

“If you ask me it’s more disturbia than suburbia,” Carey’s low tones grunted from the rear seat.

Joe shifted impatiently in his seat. “He’s been gone half an hour. How about we indulge in a little breaking and entering?”

“Patience. I’ve got Alistair watching the hospital. He’s going to call when Doctor Psycho gets to work.”

Joe drummed his fingers on the dashboard until Heath laid a hand across them. “He’ll be okay, Joe.”

“He’s been through too much. I want him back with me. I want him safe.” Joe’s voice broke a little, shattering the illusion of calm that he was trying to maintain.

Carey’s mobile rang. “It’s Alistair.” He listened for a few seconds, then rang off. “Vickery’s there and he’s scheduled for surgery for most of the day. Unless he cuts off his own fingers there’s not much chance he’ll be back.”

Joe was already halfway out of the car. Fortunately it was a quiet street and nobody but a passing tabby saw them cross the street and slip through the gates. Joe took the direct approach and hammered on the front door before stabbing at the bell a few times. He peered through the letterbox but there was no sign of life.

“If he’s in there, he can’t come to the door. Check the windows, Heath. I’ll head around the back.”

There was a large alarm box on a side wall with a blue light beneath it that blinked at regular intervals, but on closer inspection Joe could see that it was a fake. There were no wires leading from it at all.

“Cheap bastard,” he muttered under his breath, though he was grateful. Carey was good with electronics, but the less time they had to spend disabling security devices, the better. The back door was firmly locked and there was no glass that he could break. He cursed and moved on, meeting Heath at the corner of the house.

“I’ve found a window with a rotten frame. It should be easy to prise open.”

Heath showed him where it was. It was fairly small but Joe reckoned he might be able to squeeze through. Heath used the long screwdriver he had with him to lever the frame, and the wood splintered easily.

It took a bit of wriggling before Joe could fit his broad shoulders through the small gap. He cursed as his shirtsleeve tore and a jagged splinter penetrated his flesh.

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