Sharks - Matt Rogers (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📗

That made her look back up.

She said, ‘What happened?’

Then her face twisted.

All that effort stopping the tears from coming gave way to neurasthenia, and the emotional turbulence rattled her to the core. She said, ‘Did he do it himself?’

‘Yes,’ King said. ‘But not deliberately.’

She frowned through the tears.

Slater said, ‘We tried to stop him from causing any further damage to himself or his family — to you, or Caleb, or even Dylan. He ran from us. He tripped and fell and hit his head. As quick as that. It was painless.’

‘Did you threaten him?’ Lyla asked. ‘Was he running out of fear?’

‘No,’ Slater said. ‘He ran out of greed. It was Theodore Walcott who ran.’

With unbelievable composure Lyla took a deep breath and said, ‘Maybe that was what was meant to happen, then. I certainly could never have faced him again.’

‘He still loved you,’ King said. ‘He loved Caleb. That wasn’t a ruse.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘But he was blind to the consequences of his own actions. How many men did he admit to killing? Seven? Like it was nothing.’

‘He didn’t do it with his own hands,’ Slater said. ‘He used others.’

‘That’s worse,’ she said. ‘That means he was spineless.’

Slater agreed, but he’d wanted her to reach that conclusion on her own.

There’d been a brief lull in her emotions as she processed what had happened, but now it sunk home and the tears flowed once more.

Through them she whispered, ‘I thought he was a good man.’

‘Part of him was,’ King said. ‘Part of him wasn’t. That’s the same in everyone. Only to different degrees.’

‘That man I loved didn’t exist.’

‘Yes he did. But another part of him was lying dormant.’

‘If I hadn’t come here, he never would have needed to run…’

Slater said, ‘All you did was expedite the process. Those brothers were bound to destroy each other eventually. You did a good thing, for the right reasons, and it ended up encouraging them both to do what they were going to do all along. You shouldn’t feel any shame in that.’

‘How could I not?’

‘I said you shouldn’t, but you will. It’s something you’ll have to deal with. But you’ll make it out of the woods. And you’ll raise Caleb right.’

She said, ‘How? Look at this.’

She cast a hand in a ninety-degree arc to encompass the villa, gesturing to all the bodies she couldn’t see but that she knew were out there.

‘What about it?’ King said.

‘I’m at a crime scene. A brutal crime scene. The police will be here soon. How will I ever be forgiven?’

‘By coming with us. We’ll put you on a flight out of here and it’ll be like you were never involved.’

‘That’s illegal.’

‘Yes,’ Slater said. ‘Sometimes legality and justice don’t go hand in hand.’

‘Story of our lives,’ King said.

They thought there’d be a period of convincing, but she rose off the chair on shaky legs. ‘Okay.’

‘Just like that?’

She said, ‘That boy is not losing me. I can ignore what I’m feeling until we’re clear of this. I don’t have much strength but I have that much at least.’

She rounded the table and reached out for their hands.

They each took one to support her. Her grip was coarse from old skin, but warm and reassuring beneath.

She let them lead her out of the villa, and out of the lives of the Walcotts.

90

They all flew off Grand Bahama together, long before investigators within the local police department could dissect the trail of destruction left behind.

Before they had any hope of identifying culprits.

Still, it was prudent to leave now.

King assumed there’d be an island-wide lockdown when the extent of the death toll was uncovered. Right now there were mobsters and racketeers and loan sharks and mercenaries and criminals lying dead across the bays and reefs, deep in the shadows of abandoned buildings and parking lots and unpaved trails. Some had been killed by Theodore, some by Dylan, some by Kane, and a decent chunk by the foursome sitting across one of the rows on the small seaplane. But when the demise of the Walcotts came to light, there’d be a staggering shift in the power dynamic.

King tried not to think about that.

It was the same as Saddam Hussein’s demise, the same as Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán’s imprisonment. Sure, Dylan Walcott was a reputable member of the community, a titan with political ties and obscene power, but the same was true for the two aforementioned individuals. They were all respected, and they were all invulnerable until they weren’t. Then their absence created a power vacuum, all that wealth and fortune and power just ripe for the taking, and when King thought about it too hard he came to the conclusion that it would never end. There would always be a subsection of society who leapt on the opportunity for quick results, even if that meant destroying their own soul.

It was sad to consider, but Walcott’s death hadn’t been for nothing.

Examples had been made.

Messages had been sent.

You want this life, this is where you end up…

Although who would listen?

King figured he’d simply have to teach them the same lesson, whoever they were.

Whichever unfortunate soul decided to pick up the pieces of Walcott’s empire.

The civilian flight to Nassau took forty-five minutes. It landed at Lynden Pindling International Airport and the passengers filed out in single file, descending the steps and crossing the tarmac to the terminal. Lyla led Caleb with a hand on his shoulder. King, Slater, Violetta and Alexis brought up the rear, keeping their distance out of respect.

Slater could see subtle changes in Lyla’s behaviour. She gazed at the passengers streaming past for far too long, as if befuddled by them. He knew exactly what she was going through. After experiencing death up close, it’s surreal and odd to see stress-free civilians going about their lives without a care in the world. Did they not know the depths of human depravity? Did they not understand what happens under the surface of an orderly society?

No, they didn’t.

And that was a