Second Shot

I picked up the gun and got to my feet without a sound. I knew Jakes wouldn’t have carried it without one in the chamber, but I eased the slide back a fraction anyway, enough to see the indented nose of the hollow-point round through the eject port. There was no conventional safety. It was ready to go. Point and shoot.

Over to my left, from the kitchen, I heard a faint noise, muffled almost to the point of silence. I turned slowly, as if that would help me get a better directional fix, but there was no repeat. I moved across towards the kitchen, holding the Glock out in front of me, doublehanded. It wasn’t quite so dark there, thanks to the windows that lined that side of the house. I could see the lights from the ski run a little way off through the trees.

I came round the corner of the first kitchen cabinet fast, leading with the gun, and found myself taking aim at a small figure huddled down in front of the oven.

Ella’s eyes were huge in the half-light and awash with tears. She had her knees bent up and clutched to her chest, as if by making herself smaller she might succeed in disappearing altogether.

“Ella,” I whispered, lowering the muzzle of the Glock so it was pointing away from her. “It’s OK, sweetheart. It’s me — Charlie.” The words seemed to have no effect. I tried: “Where’s your mummy?” but that didn’t seem to work, either.

I eased closer and crouched next to her, putting a hand out to stroke her head. She flinched at my touch. She was trembling all over and, when I inhaled, I realized that she’d had a bit of an accident as well. Shame she was too old to still be in nappies. Still, I suppose I couldn’t blame her, poor kid. God alone knew what she’d seen here.

“It’s OK, Ella,” I said quietly, trying to be soothing but aware that I only succeeded in coming out with a horribly fake brittle tone. “I need you to stay here and keep very quiet-like you were doing. Can you do that for me?” No response. “I’ll be back very soon. I promise.”

But as I started to rise, it must have penetrated that I, too, was going to abandon her. She pounced for my leg, fastening her little arms round my calf and holding on for grim death.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got to find your mummy,” I said, trying to prise her hands loose. Damn, she had a grip a pit bull would give its canines for.

“Don’t leave me alone,” she wailed, her voice like a siren. “I want to come, too. I want my mummy.”

I shushed her, alarmed, and found myself saying, “OK, OK, you can come. But you have to be very, very quiet.”

She nodded furiously, unlocked her stranglehold on my leg and held her arms up to me. I stared at her for a moment, her eyes and nose streaming delightfully and a distinct sogginess around her bottom.

“Oh, you have to be kidding,” I muttered.

Her lower lip had firmed, but as I hesitated it started to wobble and I could almost see her gather in her breath for a burst of raucous weeping. Before she could get into her stride I swept her up onto my left hip. She grabbed hold of my jacket collar in both hands and dug her bony knees into my ribs. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile that was blankly met, then tried to ignore her.

Not easy to carry out a full search with a small damp child clamped to the side of you, but I did my best. First we went up, checking the bedrooms on the upper floor. I made sure I spun Ella round as we went upstairs so that as I stepped over Jakes’s body she didn’t get a clear look at him. The window on the landing had been reglazed, but the brass-stemmed lamp Lucas had used to threaten Aquarium man with was lying on its side on the floor, with the shade torn, and the rug was half turned back.

A struggle, I wondered, then a fall? Was that what had happened to Jakes? Coming down the stairs was worse. There was nothing much I could do to block Ella’s view of him lying in the hallway.

“Is he sleeping?” she whispered in my ear, and I heard the hopeful note in her voice.

“Yes, Ella,” I lied. “He’s sleeping.”

There was something unholy about the thick darkness as I felt my way down the stairs to the basement. The door at the bottom was shut and I opened it very carefully, only to find the lights were on down here. I shoved the door wide and went through it fast, ducking to the side, moving like an ape cradling my young with Ella attached to my side. To my right were the storerooms where I’d suspected that Lucas kept his guns. It did my nerves no good at all to see one of the doors standing open.

To my left was the door to the home cinema room. At first I couldn’t tell if it was occupied or not, but as I edged closer I heard the sharp staccato sound of voices inside.

Simone’s voice, in particular.