“What’s that noise, Evelynn?”
“I think it’s a helicopter, but it’s flying very low and flying in the direction of nowhere.”
“Let’s follow it. It’s carrying a very large box, the box is hanging underneath it.”
“It’s following the unmade road, that only leads to one place, the Villa in the Valley. Something odd about it, it’s got a New Zealand registration number.”
They ran along the road, occasionally losing sight of the helicopter, but always being able to hear it. “I’ve got it, I groved it. The box is full of rifles. This is not going to end good.”
They continued running, the helicopter was in no great hurry. And there it was, the Villa in the Valley. They crossed the bridge over the moat. There were many parked cars. They could hear voices, they could smell food, they could hear rifle fire, they could grove people having fun, there were adults and children and rifles.
Evelynn and Arthur rounded the corner into the central courtyard. There was a big cauldron of boiling Würstchen, a big tub of potato salad and a little tub of mustard.
There were adults and children eating and talking, there were adults buying rifles and ammo, there were adults paying with bundles of bank notes, there were adults test firing the guns on the firing range on the other side of the courtyard.
Evelynn and Arthur had some food and watched the fun. The rifles were new – they were automatic assault rifles – pretty illegal.
The helicopter took off to fetch some more rifles.
Arthur said “I’m going to contact the local police, this may take some time, I may have to return to Braidavick.”
Evelynn said “I’m going to find a gun and do some shooting.”