No Holds Barred (33 page)

‘Looking for the kids?' Boyd asked.

‘What have you done with them?'

‘Well, see – we caught them trespassing  . . .'

‘Don't be bloody stupid! They're only kids – football mad. They came to try and get Liam's autograph. They don't know anything about – all this.'

‘Ah, but they saw too much, and kids chatter, don't they? And we couldn't have them chattering – at least not until we'd finished our business here.'

‘Where are they?' Daniel demanded. ‘The police are on their way. You don't want to add kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment to the list of charges.'

‘If the police are on their way, why the heroic charge across country? I don't think so, Mr interfering busybody. They've got nothing on us, or why did they let us go, eh?' Boyd stepped towards Daniel. ‘Now, get off the little pony and hand over your mobile, and we might let you see your precious kids.'

From beside Daniel there came a rush of black and tan, and suddenly Taz was between the horse and the approaching man, hackles up and teeth bared. Boyd recoiled instinctively.

‘Call off the fuckin' dog!' he ordered, fear in his eyes.

‘I don't think so,' Daniel replied. Even though the man was used to handling fighting dogs, they were quite often soft with their owners. Taz was a different matter altogether, and Boyd was understandably less comfortable when the aggression was targeted at him.

Taylor hesitated, then, turning his head, he bellowed, ‘Dad! Bring the kids out.'

For a moment nothing happened, and then Daniel tensed as Norman Boyd appeared in the doorway of one of the stables holding Harry Summers on one side and Drew on the other. Drew was pale and stony-faced – his usual reaction to anxiety. Harry was sniffling as he manfully tried to repress sobs.

‘Dad!' Drew cried out. ‘I knew you'd come.'

Being there was one thing, Daniel reflected ruefully. Being able to effect a rescue was quite another. The sight of Boyd senior with his grubby hands on the boys made his blood boil.

‘It's OK,' he reassured them quietly. ‘I'll sort this out.'

‘They took our phones,' Drew said, greatly aggrieved. ‘We didn't do anything wrong. We only wanted an autograph  . . .'

‘Shut up!' Norman Boyd said roughly, shaking the boy's arm.

‘It's not your fault. I'll sort it,' Daniel told him.

‘No,' Taylor cut in. ‘I'll tell you what's going to happen. You're going to call off the dog, get off the pony and hand over your phone. If you try anything fancy, the kids'll suffer, got it?'

Daniel hesitated, but only for a moment. He had had first-hand experience of what Norman Boyd was capable of, and he had no reason to suppose he would have any more scruples just because his captives were children.

Calling Taz to heel, he slid off Piper's sweaty back, trailed the reins and took his mobile from his pocket. It was vibrating silently. No doubt Dek or Danvers wanting an update. Too bad. He hoped his silence would hurry them on their way.

Taz was reluctant to come to his side. He had just caught sight of Drew being restrained by the enemy, and his doggy brain knew it was a situation he should do something about. Drew was family and therefore his responsibility. He stood his ground and continued to growl menacingly.

‘Taz! Heel! Now!' Daniel reiterated sharply, and glancing from one to the other in agitation, the dog did as he was told.

‘Throw the phone over,' Taylor instructed. ‘And don't even think about trying anything!'

Daniel had been toying with the idea of lobbing the phone hard towards Taylor's face and making a play for the two boys, but Norman Boyd was just too far away, and although the footballer was standing slightly apart, looking miserably unsure, Daniel couldn't rely on him not to enter the fray if Daniel went on the offensive. Sighing inwardly, he tossed the phone in an underarm action to Taylor, who caught it deftly. Taz took a step forward, watching like a hawk, but a word from Daniel stopped him in his tracks.

‘So, what now?' Daniel asked.

‘Now we load up the van and be on our way.'

‘What about the boys?'

‘Oh, I think we've got a spare crate. They can come along as insurance.'

Daniel turned cold with fear. ‘You can't do that.'

‘Watch me.'

Daniel looked at Liam. ‘And are you OK with this? You're a hero to these kids.'

The footballer shrugged unhappily, and Daniel grew impatient.

‘Think what you're doing, man! There's a world of difference between owning fighting dogs and kidnapping children. You'll be behind bars for a long time. You can kiss goodbye to your career, that's for sure.'

‘Shut up!' Taylor said sharply, but Daniel's words had clearly hit home with Liam.

‘Look, couldn't we just leave the kids?' he asked. ‘They haven't done nothing.'

‘Bit late for a conscience now,' Taylor replied with a sneer. ‘You're in this as deep as we are. Shut up and go get one of the dogs. You,' he added to Daniel. ‘Into the stables.'

Daniel assumed a resigned expression and, leaving Piper standing obediently with his reins trailed, began to follow the footballer towards the nearest open door with Taz at his heels and Taylor a step or two behind.

His path took him closer to Norman Boyd and the two boys, and as he came level with them, Drew said desperately, ‘Dad?'

It was now or never. Swivelling on his toes, Daniel pointed at Taylor, and shouted, ‘Taz, get him!' In the next instant, he'd launched himself at Boyd senior with his head down and tucked into his shoulder like a prop forward with his eye on the try line.

Faced with a human battering ram, Norman Boyd's survival instincts took over and he released his two captives in favour of protecting himself. Even so, Daniel's shoulder hit him squarely in the midriff, sending him staggering back to land sprawling on the gravel with Daniel on top.

‘Run!' Daniel shouted at the boys, shifting his weight to pin Norman Boyd down as the bulky, salvage yard owner tried to throw him off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Drew take Harry's arm and drag him away. Somewhere behind him, Taylor was shouting obscenities as Taz silently and efficiently took care of that particular business.

Gritting his teeth with the effort of restraining his captive, Daniel glanced round and saw Liam Sellyoak standing irresolute in the stable doorway. He was looking at the two boys.

‘Stay out of it!' Daniel warned. ‘Don't make things worse for yourself.'

‘I never wanted any of this,' the footballer complained weakly, advancing a step or two. ‘Not the kids  . . .'

‘So do something about it. Give me a hand.'

‘I can't. You don't understand  . . .'

Norman Boyd unleashed a stream of expletives in Sellyoak's direction. Daniel bounced on him.

To one side, Taz had his man floored on the shingle with a classic hold on his right forearm, and Taylor was clearly not happy, screaming for Daniel to call his dog off.

‘Stay still and he won't hurt you – much,' Daniel advised him dispassionately. Now they just needed the cavalry to arrive. Surely Danvers couldn't be far away.

A door banged in the direction of the house, and suddenly there was a new player on the scene.

‘Don't just stand there, you fool!' Taylor screeched, loud and furious. With a sinking heart, Daniel glanced up to see the younger Boyd break into a run towards them.

Not overjoyed at the prospect of being caught on the ground, Daniel swung a haymaker at Norman Boyd's jaw and scrambled to his feet.

He almost made it.

Reaching him a fraction before he straightened up, Ricky lashed out with his foot, catching Daniel on the shoulder and spinning him helplessly around to measure his length on the ground. Instinct had him rolling and coming to his feet in an instant – just in time to see Ricky reach into the back of the transit and withdraw a familiar shiny blue baseball bat.

Daniel's spirits sank still further. He had had ample experience of the damage that particular weapon could do.

To one side, Norman Boyd was scrambling groggily to his feet, and behind him, Daniel heard the scrunching of footsteps on gravel as Liam Sellyoak stepped forward. He was surrounded.

‘Call your fuckin' dog off or I'll smash your fuckin' head in!' Ricky threatened, slapping the baseball bat into his open left hand and advancing menacingly towards Daniel.

Aware that he had little option, Daniel nevertheless still hesitated, playing for time.

‘Ricky – for God's sake!' Sellyoak protested. ‘You can't do that. What about the kids?'

‘Too late to get squeamish now,' Ricky sneered. ‘You're in this as deep as anyone.'

‘No one was meant to get hurt,' the footballer said.

No, just the dogs
, Daniel thought fleetingly, but his mind was toying with another idea. With Ricky Boyd's attention temporarily on Sellyoak, was it worth trying for the baseball bat? It was a slim chance – so slim as to be anorexic – but it might be the only one he got.

He tensed himself for the attempt, but, even as he did so, help arrived from a completely unexpected quarter.

With a scrunching of hooves on gravel, Piper charged into the fray, accelerating with the speed of a drag racer, guided by a slight figure that clung grimly to his bare back.

With many other breeds, the ploy wouldn't have worked; horses naturally avoid collision, but a quarter horse is bred for working cattle in the way that a sheepdog is for sheep, and shouldering aside a running steer is all part of a day's work. Although, as far as Daniel knew, Piper had never worked cattle, the instincts were all there, and he thundered into the midst of the group without flinching.

Ricky's bravado deserted him. Dropping the bat, he dived for cover behind the van, and his father, who was halfway to his feet, leapt to the side with such haste that he stumbled and fell once again.

The horse charged through the gap he had created and on for some way before the boy on his back managed to pull him up, but the diversion gave Daniel all the time he needed.

In three swift strides he had reached and wrenched open the driver's door to Taylor's transit. The keys hung in the ignition, as he'd expected, and within moments he had the vehicle started, in gear and heading for the archway. Accelerating across the quadrangle, he swung it into a handbrake turn that finished with the van almost completely blocking the stableyard exit.

The spray of shingle was still filtering down through the climbing roses on the wall when Daniel leapt out of the vehicle, taking the keys with him. Piper was already on his way back, and, recognizing the figure on the horse with a rush of pride, he yelled, ‘Drew! Over here!' and was ready to catch Piper's rein as the horse came to a propping halt in front of him.

Over by the stables, the Boyds were beginning to recover their equilibrium, and, mindful of the baseball bat, Daniel shouted to Taz to release his captive and come to heel. There was no way out for those in the yard except on foot through the gateway or the house, and whichever they chose, they wouldn't get far. Daniel could already hear the welcome sound of approaching police vehicles, including a helicopter overhead.

Still holding Piper's rein, he reached up and lifted Drew off the horse's back. The boy put his arms round his father's neck and slid sideways to cling to him, shaking and half sobbing with what Daniel suspected was a mixture of shock and relief.

‘I've got you. It's all going to be all right. You were brilliant, Drew,' Daniel said into his hair. ‘Where's Harry?'

‘Outside,' Drew said, pointing beyond the van, where several sets of blue lights could now be seen flashing.

‘Let's go find him,' Daniel suggested, taking his hand. Taz circled them, still on a high from his part in the action.

As they made their way past the front of the transit van, with Piper trailing in their wake, a succession of police cars and vans burst from the driveway at speed, followed closely by an ambulance and a paramedics' car. One by one, they drew up on the gravel sweep in front of the scaffold-clad Elizabethan manor. Blue lights reflected in the numerous diamond-paned windows as a bewildering number of uniformed personnel spilled out on to the stones.

‘Where are they?' one of the police officers shouted, and Daniel pointed through the archway behind him.

‘In there. Four of them. And the dogs are in the stables.'

At least eight men wearing riot gear charged through the gap into the stableyard, and a half-dozen more were set to follow. Daniel was impressed with Danvers' influence. It seemed a huge turnout for a rural force to accomplish at such short notice. As the second phalanx approached, he held out the keys to the transit.

‘You might need these.'

‘Thanks, mate.'

Behind the ranks of official vehicles, Daniel saw Danvers' van arrive, followed by Jenny's Land Rover, and headed thankfully in that direction.

‘Where's Harry?' Jenny was out of the vehicle almost before it stopped, her eyes searching the parked vehicles.

‘Mum!' A small boy torpedoed from behind a police van and threw himself into her arms, sobbing hysterically.

All of a sudden, Daniel felt stiff, sore and unutterably weary.

TWENTY-ONE

B
oth the Boyds and Liam Sellyoak gave themselves up without a struggle, falling back on their claims that the pit bulls were in fact boxer-cross-Labradors with papers to prove it, though – as Danvers pointed out – if that were the case, why had they been so anxious to hide them from the police?

Although statements would in due course be needed, Jenny and Daniel were allowed to take the two boys back to the farm as soon as the arrests had been made, but it wasn't until the evening of that long, long day that things began to settle down.

Finally, the door closed behind the last uniformed officer, and the remaining company heaved a collective sigh of relief.