Page 10 of She Saw What He Did

‘We have to go. Now!’ I cry.

‘Abby, what … what did you see?’

‘He … he just killed a man, Jared. I watched him do it and he knows I saw him.’

Chapter Seven

Fifteen minutes earlier

‘What the fuck?’ muttered Sparrow, checking his watch.

It wasn’t the collection. It could only be another bloody tourist. He sighed heavily. He’d chosen Laslow Island because nobody ever went there. He watched as the speedboat’s engine was cut and a man leapt from it. He was young, Sparrow noticed, young and energetic. He was wearing a raincoat. Sparrow felt a pang of unease. Who wore a raincoat in summer? he pondered nervously. The man walked steadily towards him. Their eyes met. Sparrow didn’t recognise him.

‘You’ve got something I want,’ said the man without introducing himself.

Sparrow was confused. Four o’clock, they said. They were always on time; never a minute early or a minute late. He checked his watch again.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Sparrow. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. He mustn’t let the man know he was scared.

‘I think you do. I haven’t got time to play games,’ said the man in broken English. ‘You’ve got a package.’

Sparrow chewed his lip.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Sparrow.

‘Yes, you do.’

‘They told me four o’clock,’ Sparrow said defiantly.

The man spat onto the sand.

‘Where is it?’ he snarled. ‘I know you have it. I’ve been following you.’

Sparrow swallowed. Something didn’t feel right.

‘It’s safe,’ he responded. ‘Do you have my money?’

‘You don’t know what you’re dealing with,’ warned the man, narrowing his eyes. ‘You’d be best to give it to me.’

He stepped towards Sparrow.

‘Now where is it?’ he growled.

What the fuck? thought Sparrow, his brain racing. He remembered they said that others would be after this cargo. Of course, he should have known. They were paying him fifty thousand for a reason. Shit. He should have known the whole thing was iffy.

‘I’m not handing anything over until I get my money,’ he said, wiping his clammy hands on his shorts. It was becoming clear that this man wasn’t going to be giving him any money. The man glared at him and then his hand shot inside his raincoat and Sparrow flinched.

‘Let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be,’ the man said evenly, aiming a sawn-off shotgun at Sparrow’s chest. ‘Take me to it,’ he demanded.

Sparrow felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. He couldn’t think clearly. He told himself to stay calm. But he was having difficulty breathing.

‘Okay, I’ll get it.’ said Sparrow. ‘Wait here and I’ll get it.’

But the man was getting agitated and jabbed the gun into Sparrow’s chest.

‘Take me to it,’ he yelled. ‘Move.’

Sparrow’s mind raced. He feared that as soon as he handed over the cargo the man would kill him. He remembered the phone conversation and shivered. These people are no amateurs and they don’t take prisoners. No mistakes. You do a good job, you get well rewarded. You mess it up and you’re fucked. Well and truly. He mustn’t lose the box. Whatever happened he had to make sure the box was safe. It seemed he was damned either way. His brain raced to find a solution but there seemed to be only one.

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