Blood Sport by A.J. Carella Page A

pointing to an area at the top of the screen. He was right; you could just make out the bottom half of a red vehicle. “It’s no good to us, though. We can’t see enough.” As they watched, though, the car pulled forward and reversed towards the shop window to make a u-turn. As it did, for a brief moment, the license was in full view.
    Not believing his luck, Finn quickly grabbed a pencil from a holder on the desk and a piece of paper and jotted the number down. Going to the nearest computer and switching it on , he ran it through the database. And was immediately disappointed. The vehicle was shown as belonging to Mark Flint. The man on the footage must have been one of his farm hands. Finn had known Flint for years, since he had taught him in high school, and he knew without a doubt that he wasn’t involved in this in any way. He didn’t know the farm hand, though, so it was worth a drive out there even if it was just to eliminate them.
    “Have you got time to come out with me to the farm or do you need to get back to Carlton?”
    “My boss said I’m to give you whatever help you need so sure, why not ?”
     
    ***
     
    “What’s your first name, kid?” Finn asked the deputy as they drove up to the farm.
    “John.”
    “Well, John, thanks for all your help back there.”
    “No problem. Good change from issuing parking tickets in Carlton.”
    “Here we are . This is the Flint farm,” Finn told him, pointing to a dirt road after they’d been driving for twenty minutes. “It’s about two miles up this road.”
    The road was full of bumps and potholes and by the time they arrived Finn felt like they’d been put through a tumble drier.
    Getting out of the cruiser, they climbed the steps to the front porch and knocked on the door.
    “Finn! Gosh, how long’s it been?” The door was opened by a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Colonel Sanders.
    “Hi , Mark.” Finn shook his extended hand. “How have you been doing?”
    “I’m very well. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
    Finn described the man seen on the surveillance footage and explained that they needed to speak to him but he stopped short of telling him why.
    “Ah, that sounds like Kenny. Not the most sociable or friendly of people but he’s a good worker.”
    “Any chance we could have a quick word with him?”
    Flint shook his head. “I’m sorry , Finn, he’s not here. I’ve sent him on an errand and he won’t be back until tomorrow.”
    “Can you get a hold of him and ask him to come back early?”
    “I’ve got no way of getting a hold of him. He doesn’t have a cell. I really am sorry, Finn. I’d help if I could.”
    “What about the tr uck. Is that here?”
    “He’s got it with him , I’m afraid.”
    Disappointed , Finn told Flint that he would be back tomorrow and they returned to the cruiser.
    “Didn’t that seem a little odd to you?” John asked as they pulled out of the yard.
    “What?”
    “Who doesn’t have a cell phone these days?”
    “Unfortunately, out here a lot of people don’t have them. The service is awful and a lot of the farm hands wouldn’t know what to do with one.”

Twenty -Nine
     
    You pay peanuts and you get monkeys, wasn’t that how the saying went? Well, he sure seemed to employ a bunch of monkeys. “Why didn’t you warn me they were on their way here?” he shouted into the phone.
    “I didn’t know.”
    “I told you I wanted to know everything that was going on in the investigation. You’ve let me down.”
    He had no choice now ; he had to run, and fast. Shouting orders to his men, he told them to put their escape plan into action. He’d had one for years, always knowing that this day could possibly come but never actually believing it would.
    He didn’t care about the farm itself . He was not into all that sentimental clap trap, but it did represent a sizeable chunk of money. Oh well, he thought, there was plenty more where that came from . Going to his safe,