The Deadly Game by Jim Eldridge Page A

Andy talked about his search and rescue work, and then he asked about the book they’d found, and what it was all about.
    ‘Robert didn’t tell me a lot about it,’ he said.
    So Jake told him about the Order of Malichea, and monks hiding the library, and all the different people who were trying to get their hands on the books. It helped pass the time on the long drive, and Jake felt he owed it to Andy, especially as he was putting himself out this way.
    ‘So that’s why you wanted to head back to London,’ said Andy. ‘To get the book back there to safety.’
    ‘Right,’ agreed Jake. ‘The way they’d searched our rooms for it meant to me they’d try again.’
    ‘Makes sense,’ said Andy.
    Ahead of them, they saw the sign for a twenty-four-hour service station.
    ‘Excellent,’ said Andy. ‘We could do with some petrol. And I don’t know about you, but a coffee would help keep me awake on the rest of the journey.’
    ‘Sounds a great idea,’ said Jake.
    Andy signalled, and pulled into the service station. Ahead of them, the cafeteria was lit up, but there were few cars parked. Jake wasn’t surprised; at this time of night he didn’t expect there to be much traffic. Andy ignored the service station and turned into the lorry park, where rows and rows of lorries were parked up for the night.
    ‘You missed it,’ said Jake.
    ‘Missed what?’ asked Andy.
    ‘The car park. This is the lorry park.’
    ‘I know,’ said Andy. ‘But this is quieter. Fewer people around.’
    Jake frowned.
    ‘You think someone might steal your car?’ he asked.
    ‘No,’ said Andy. ‘But I need you to hand the book over, and if you resist, it might get noisy.’
    Jake stared at Andy, bewildered. Andy still seemed the same easy-going guy he’d been all weekend, but there was a harder look to his expression that hadn’t been there before. Cold.
    ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand,’ said Jake, still trying to come to terms with what Andy was saying.
    ‘I mean you’re going to hand the book over to me.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because someone is paying me thirty thousand pounds to get hold of it.’
    ‘Thirty thousand?’
    Andy nodded.
    ‘Someone has obviously been listening in to yours and Robert’s conversations, because I got this phone call from someone who knew that Robert had asked me to go to Glastonbury with you. They told me you were looking for some sort of book. Well, I knew that, because Robert had already told me. Then they told me they’d pay me thirty thousand if I could get hold of it.
    ‘They paid me ten thousand in cash up front as a sign of good faith, and told me I could keep it, whatever happened. But, if I could get hold of the book, there was another twenty thousand in it for me.’
    ‘But you’re Robert’s friend!’ exploded Jake.
    ‘I play rugby in the same team as him,’ corrected Andy. ‘It’s not the same thing.’
    ‘So . . . was it you who searched our rooms?’
    Andy nodded.
    ‘But your own room was searched as well,’ said Jake, bewildered.
    ‘Of course,’ said Andy. ‘I had to make it look good.’ He grinned. ‘When you got all jumpy and said you had to get back to London tonight . . . well . . . That was better than I imagined.’
    Jake stared at Andy, his mind still in shock. He’d been so friendly, so helpful. And now . . .
    ‘I can’t let you have it,’ he said.
    ‘It’s not a question of can’t ,’ said Andy. ‘It’s a question of what will happen to you if you don’t.’ He gave a low whistle, and suddenly Jake heard the dog growl. ‘Good old Woody,’ said Andy. ‘Like I say, a nice friendly dog. Except when he thinks his master’s in danger, or being attacked. Then, he’s a different animal. He’d tear your throat out if he thought you were threatening me.’
    ‘But I’m not!’ said Jake desperately.
    ‘If I give that whistle, he’ll think you are,’ said Andy. ‘It’s a sort of code between us, something we’ve developed.’ He