Where There's A Will

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Ryan's throat burned as the tequila ran down it from the bottle he was holding, but he didn't care, he didn't even notice. How could things have gone so badly wrong? The question repeated itself over and over in his mind, while his ears were assaulted by the music of Aerosmith, which was blasting out from the expensive stereo system in his room. The plan had been simple, thought up by him, and refined by the three of them, him, Crash and Lewis - there was no reason why it should have gone wrong, not to such an extent.

It was bad enough that his sister was still alive – her continued existence meant there was still a barrier between him and certainty of inheriting his father's fortune, but at least she had no idea that he was involved in her kidnapping. Worse was the news that his partners had been caught by the police; it was only a minor comfort to him that, according to the constable downstairs in the library, both men were unconscious and seriously hurt, one of them having been shot and the other hit by a car.

Lifting the bottle to his lips, he swallowed more of the burning liquid while he considered his problem. His first thought was that he should find a way to sneak into the hospital and deal with Crash and Lewis, before they could wake up and reveal his involvement with the kidnapping. He had trusted Crash with taking care of his sister and collecting the ransom, half of which was to go to him, a trust that had clearly been misplaced, but he didn't trust him to keep quiet now that he was in custody. Similarly, he was sure that Lewis would sell him out at the first opportunity, though for different reasons to Crash.

Lewis, Ryan knew from what Crash had told him, had been having doubts and spending too much time with Alice – as far as Ryan was concerned, he should not have spent any time with her. The moment he woke, and the police spoke to him, Lewis would tell them everything he knew, to protect Alice from his partners, and the possibility that they might try again to kidnap her, or worse.

Crash, on the other hand, would spill the beans to the police to save himself.

Ryan guessed, with a grim certainty, that the first words out of Crash's mouth would be 'I want to make a deal', and he didn't doubt that the police would be more than happy to agree to one, which might even include immunity from prosecution, once they heard what Crash had to say.

Ryan would have liked to believe that both of his partners would die before they could wake and cause him any more problems; he didn't think his luck was that good, however. Since he had no intention of just sitting back and waiting for the police to come for him, he pushed himself to his feet, dropping the bottle on the seat behind him to spill its contents, not that he cared about that. From the top drawer of his desk he grabbed his switchblade, which he shoved into a pocket on his way out of the room, though only after he flicked it open briefly to check the blade was still sharp. It was a nice weapon, with a good, five-inch blade, that he was sure would come in handy.

The front door swung shut with a bang that was loud enough to draw the attention of the two constables at the gate. Ryan was oblivious to the curious looks as he made his way around to the garage so he could get behind the wheel of his mother's silver Jaguar XK8, the car he hadn't long returned home in. He was in less of a fit state to be driving than when he left the club, but he didn't care about that, nor did he care that there were multiple witnesses to him driving under the influence, and without a license; all he did care about was fixing his problem.

The crowd in the road scattered as he raced through the gates opened by the constables – he didn't doubt that that would end up in the papers and on the news, but that was something else he didn't give a damn about that, he had far more important things to worry about.

How long it took him to get to the hospital, not to mention how he managed to get there without crashing his mother's car, Ryan didn't have a clue. Not a single instant of his trip through the streets sank into his brain, and he only became aware of things around him again when he got out in the car park at the side of the hospital.