"I'll explain to your father."
The snowplow had turned around in front of the garage, and now it returned along the track it had cleared, heading back through the woods toward the main road. The Jaguar followed.
Kit felt panicked. What should he do? The cars were leaving, but Toni was still here.
The Jaguar stopped suddenly. Kit hoped the driver had not seen something suspicious. The car reversed back to the house. The driver's door opened, and a small bundle fell out into the snow. It looked, Kit thought, almost like a puppy.
The door slammed, and the car pulled away.
Toni went back and picked up the bundle. It was a puppy, a black-and-white English sheepdog about eight weeks old.
Kit was bewildered, but he decided not to ask questions. "You can't come in," he said to Toni.
"Don't be stupid," she replied. "This is not your house, it's your father's, and he'll want to see me." She continued walking slowly toward him with her mother on one arm and the puppy cradled in the other.
Kit was stymied. He had expected Toni to be in her own car, and his plan had been to tell her she should come back later. For a moment, he considered running after the Jaguar and telling the driver to come back. But the driver would surely ask why. And the police in the snowplow might ask what the fuss was about. It was too dangerous. Kit did nothing.
Toni stood in front of Kit, who was blocking the doorway. "Is something wrong?" she said.
He was stuck, he realized. If he persisted in trying to obey Nigel's orders, he might bring the police back. Toni on her own was more manageable. "You'd better come in," he said.
"Thanks. By the way, the puppy's name is Osborne." Toni and her mother stepped into the hall. "Do you need the bathroom, Mother?" Toni asked. "It's just here."
Kit watched the lights of the snowplow and the Jaguar disappear into the woods. He relaxed slightly. He was saddled with Toni, but he had got rid of the police. He closed the front door.
There was a loud bang from upstairs, like a hammer hitting a wall.
"What the heck was that?" said Toni.
***
MIRANDA had taken a thick sheaf of pages from the book and folded them into a wedge which she had shoved into the gap under the cupboard door. That would not hold Daisy for long. She needed a more solid barrier. Beside the bed was an antique commode chest used as a bedside table. With a huge effort, she dragged the heavy mahogany chest across the carpet, tilted it at a forty-five-degree angle, and jammed it against the door. Almost immediately, she heard Daisy pushing at the other side of the door. When pushing failed, she banged.
Miranda guessed Daisy was lying with her head in the attic and her feet in the cupboard, kicking the door with the soles of her boots. The door shuddered but did not fly open. However, Daisy was tough, and she would find a way. Nevertheless, Miranda had won a few precious seconds.
She flew to the window. To her dismay, she saw two vehicles--a truck and a sedan--driving away from the house. "Oh, no!" she said aloud. The vehicles were already too far for the people inside them to hear her scream. Was she too late? She ran out of the bedroom.
She stopped at the top of the stairs. Down in the hall, there was an old woman she had never seen before, going into the bathroom.
What was happening?
Next she recognized Toni Gallo, taking off a flying jacket and hanging it on the hat stand.
A small black-and-white puppy was sniffing the umbrellas.
Kit came into view. There was another bang from the dressing room, and Kit said to Toni, "The children must be awake."
Miranda was bewildered. How could this be? Kit was acting as if there was nothing wrong . . .
He must be fooling Toni, Miranda realized. He was hoping to make her think that all was well. Then he would either persuade her to leave, or overpower her and tie her up with the others.
Meanwhile, the police were driving away.
Toni closed the bathroom door on her mother. No one had yet noticed Miranda.
Kit said to Toni, "You'd better come into the kitchen."
That was where they would jump her, Miranda guessed. Nigel and Elton would be waiting, and they would take her by surprise.
There was a crash from within the bedroom: Daisy had broken out of the cupboard.
Miranda acted without thinking. "Toni!" she screamed.
Toni looked up the stairs and saw her.
Kit said, "Shit, no--"
Miranda yelled, "The thieves, they're here, they've tied Daddy up, they've got guns--"
Daisy burst out of the bedroom and crashed into Miranda, sending her tumbling down the stairs.
7:30 A.M.
FOR an instant, Toni froze.
Kit stood beside her, an expression of rage on his face, looking up the stairs. With a twisted mouth he said, "Get her, Daisy!"
Miranda was falling down the stairs, her pink nightdress billowing up to reveal plump white thighs.
Running after her was an ugly young woman with a shaved head and Gothic eye makeup, dressed in leather.
And Mother was in the bathroom.
In a flash of comprehension, Toni understood what was happening. Thieves with guns were here, Miranda had said. There could not be two such gangs operating in this remote area on the same night. These must be the people who had robbed the Kremlin. The bald woman at the top of the stairs would be the blonde Toni had seen on the security video--her wig had been found in the getaway van. Toni's mind raced ahead: Kit seemed to be in league with them--which would explain how they had defeated the security system--
As that thought struck her, Kit hooked his arm around her neck and pulled, trying to yank her off her feet. At the same time, he yelled: "Nigel!"
She elbowed him forcefully in the ribs, and had the satisfaction of hearing him grunt with pain. His grip on her neck eased, and she was able to turn and hit him again, this time a punch in the midriff with her left fist. He lashed out at her, but she easily dodged the blow.
She drew back her right arm for a real knockout punch but, before she could strike, Miranda reached the foot of the stairs and crashed into the back of Toni's legs. Because Toni was leaning back, ready to hit Kit, she fell backwards. A moment later, the woman in leather tripped over Miranda and Toni and collided with Kit, and all four of them ended up in a heap on the flagstone floor.
Toni realized she could not win this fight. She was up against Kit and the woman he had called Daisy, and soon she might have others to contend with. She had to get away from these people, catch her breath, and figure out what to do.
She wriggled out of the scrum and rolled over.
Kit was flat on his back. Miranda was curled up in a ball, appearing bruised and winded but not seriously injured. As Toni looked, Daisy got to her knees and, apparently in a fury, punched Miranda, striking her on the arm with a fist encased, peculiarly, in ladylike tan suede gloves.
Toni leaped to her feet. She jumped over Kit, reached the front door, and threw it open. Kit grabbed her ankle with one hand, holding her back. She twisted, and kicked at his arm with the other foot. She connected with his elbow. He cried out in pain and released his grip. Toni jumped out through the doorway and slammed the door behind her.
She turned right and dashed along the track made by the snowplow. She heard a gunshot, and a crash as a pane of glass shattered in a window near her. Someone was shooting at her from inside the house. But the bullet missed.
She ran to the garage and turned onto the concrete apron in front of the doors, where the snowplow had cleared a space. Now the garage block was between her and the person with the gun.
The snowplow, with its two police officers in the cab, had departed at normal speed along the cleared road with its blade raised. That meant that by now the truck was too far away for her to catch it on foot. What was she going to do? While she was on the cleared path, she could easily be followed by someone from the house. But where could she hide? She glanced over to the woods. Plenty of cover there, but she
had no coat--she had taken off her flying jacket just before Miranda yelled her warning--so she would not last long in the open. The garage itself would be almost as cold.
She ran to the other end of the building and looked around the corner. A few yards away, she could see the door to the barn. Did she dare to risk crossing the courtyard, in view of the house? She had no other choice.
As she was about to set off, the barn door opened.
She hesitated. What now?
A small boy emerged wearing a coat over Spider-Man pajamas and a pair of rubber boots too big for his feet. Toni recognized Tom, the son of Miranda. He did not look around, but turned left and trudged through the deep snow. Toni assumed he was heading for the house, and asked herself whether she should stop him; but after a moment she realized that her assumption was wrong. Instead of crossing the courtyard to the main house, he went to the guest cottage. Toni willed him to hurry, to get out of the way before trouble started. She imagined he was looking for his mother to ask if he could open his presents. In fact, his mother was in the main house, being punched by a woman gangster in tan suede gloves. But perhaps the stepfather was in the cottage. Toni thought it wiser to leave the boy to find out. The cottage door was not locked, and Tom disappeared inside.
Still Toni hesitated. Was there someone behind one of the house windows, covering the courtyard with a nine-millimeter Browning automatic pistol? She was about to find out.
She set off at a run but, as soon as she hit the deep snow, she fell. She lay there for a second, waiting for a gunshot, but none came. She struggled to her feet, cold snow chilling her through her jeans and sweater, and pressed on, walking more carefully but more slowly. She looked fearfully at the house. She could see no one at any of the windows. It could not take more than a minute to cross the courtyard, but each big step took painfully long. At last she reached the barn, stepped inside, and swung the door closed behind her, shaking with relief that she was still alive.
A small lamp revealed a billiard table, an assortment of elderly couches, a large-screen television set, and two camp beds, both empty. There appeared to be no one else in the room, though a ladder led to a loft. Toni made herself stop shaking and climbed the ladder. When she was halfway up, she peeped over the top. She was startled by several pairs of small red eyes staring at her: Caroline's rats. She climbed the rest of the way. There were two more beds here. The somnolent lump in one was Caroline. The other had not been slept in.
It would not be long before the gang in the house came looking for Toni. She had to get help fast. She reached for her mobile phone.
Then she realized she did not have it.
She shook her clenched fists at the ceiling in frustration. Her phone was in the pocket of the flying jacket, which she had hung up in the hall.
What was she going to do now?
***
"WE'VE got to get after her," Nigel said. "She could be on the phone to the police already."
"Wait," Kit said. He stepped across the hall to the hat stand. He was rubbing his left elbow where Toni had kicked him, but he stopped in order to search her jacket. Triumphantly, he produced a phone from one of her pockets. "She can't call the police."
"Thank God for that." Nigel looked around the hall. Daisy had Miranda face down on the floor with her arm bent behind her back. Elton stood in the kitchen doorway. Nigel said, "Elton, get some more rope so Daisy can tie up this fat cow." He turned back to Kit. "Your sisters are a right bloody pair."
"Never mind that," Kit said. "We can get away now, can't we? We don't have to wait for daylight or fetch the four-wheel drive. We can use any car, and take the path cleared by the snowplow."
"Your man said there were coppers in that snowplow."
"The one place they won't look for us is right behind them."
Nigel nodded. "Clever. But the snowplow's not going all the way to . . . where we need to be. What do we do when it turns off our route?"
Kit suppressed his impatience. They had to get away from Steepfall at any cost, but Nigel had not yet figured that out. "Look out of the window," he said. "The snow has stopped. It will start to thaw soon, the forecast said."
"We could still get stuck."
"We're in worse danger here, now that the road has been cleared. Toni Gallo might not be the only visitor to show up."
Elton returned with a length of electric cable. "Kit's right," he said. "We can easily get there by ten o'clock, barring accidents." He handed the cable to Daisy, who tied Miranda's hands behind her back.
"Okay," Nigel said. "But first we have to round everyone up, including kids, and make sure they can't call for help for the next few hours."
Daisy dragged Miranda through the kitchen and shoved her into the pantry.
Kit said, "Miranda's phone must be in the cottage, otherwise she would have used it by now. Her boyfriend, Ned, is there."
Nigel said, "Elton, go to the cottage."
Kit went on: "There's a phone in the Ferrari. I suggest Daisy goes to the garage to make sure no one is trying to use it."
"What about the barn?"
"Leave it till last. Caroline, Craig, and Tom don't have phones. I'm not sure about Sophie, but she's only fourteen."
"All right," Nigel said. "Let's get it done as fast as possible."
The bathroom door opened and Toni Gallo's mother came out, still wearing her hat.
Kit and Nigel stared at her for a moment. Kit had forgotten she was in there.
Then Nigel said, "Stick her in the pantry with the others."
"Oh, no," the old woman said. "I think I'd rather sit by the Christmas tree." She crossed the hall and went into the living room.
Kit looked at Nigel, who shrugged.
***
CRAIG opened the door of the boot cupboard a crack. Peeping out, he saw that the lobby was empty. He was about to step out when one of the gangsters, Elton, came in from the kitchen. Craig pulled the door an inch toward himself and held his breath.
It had been like this for a quarter of an hour.
One of the gang was always in view. The cupboard smelled mustily of damp anoraks and old boots. He worried about Sophie, sitting in Luke's Ford in the garage, getting cold. He tried to wait patiently. His chance would surely come soon.
A few minutes ago Nellie had barked, which must have meant someone at the door. Craig's heart had lifted in hope; but Nigel and Elton had stood inches away from Craig, talking in whispers that he could not quite make out. They must have been hiding from the visitor, Craig decided. He wanted to burst out of the cupboard and run to the door yelling for help, but he knew he would be seized and silenced the instant he revealed himself. It was maddeningly frustrating.
There was a banging from upstairs, as if someone was trying to bash a door down. Then there was a different bang, more like a firework--or a gun going off. It was followed instantly by the sound of breaking glass. Craig was dismayed and frightened. Until this moment, the gang had used guns only to threaten. Now that they had started shooting, where would it end? The family was in terrible danger.
At the gunshot, Nigel and Elton went, but left the door open, and Elton remained in sight at the far end of the kitchen, talking urgently to someone in the hall. Then he returned, but went out the back way, leaving the door wide open.
At last Craig could move without being seen. The others were in the hall. This was his chance. He stepped out of the cupboard.
He flipped open the key box and snatched the Ferrari keys. This time they came off the hook without snagging.
In two strides he was out of the door.
The snow had stopped. Somewhere beyond the clouds dawn was breaking, and he could see in black-and-white. To his left was Elton, trudging through the snow, heading for the guest cottage. Elton's back was turned and he did not see Craig. Craig went the other way and turned the corner, so that the house hid him from Elton.
He was shocked to see Daisy only yards away.
Fortunately she, too, had her back to him
. She had obviously come out of the front door and was walking away from him. There was a cleared path, and he realized that a snowplow had been here while he was hiding in the boot cupboard. Daisy was heading for the garage--and Sophie.
He ducked behind his father's Mercedes. Peeping around the wing, he saw Daisy reach the end of the building, leave the cleared path, and turn the corner of the house, disappearing from view.
He went after her. Moving as fast as he could, he went along the front of the house. He passed the dining room, where Nellie stood with her forepaws on the windowsill; then the front door, which was shut; then the living room with its flashing Christmas tree. He was astonished to see an old lady sitting by the tree with a puppy in her lap. He did not pause to wonder who she was.
He reached the corner and looked around. Daisy was heading straight for the side door of the garage. If she went in there, she would find Sophie sitting in Luke's Ford.
She reached into the pocket of her black leather jacket and took out her gun.
Craig watched, helpless, as she opened the door.
7:45 A.M.
THE pantry was cold.
The Christmas turkey, too large to fit into the kitchen refrigerator, stood in a baking tray on a marble shelf, stuffed and seasoned by Olga, ready for roasting. Miranda wondered dismally if she would live to eat it.
She stood with her father, her sister, and Hugo, the four of them trussed like the turkey and crammed into a space three feet square, surrounded by food: vegetables in racks, a shelf of pasta in jars, boxes of breakfast cereals, cans of tuna and plum tomatoes and baked beans.
Hugo was in the worst state. He seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. He was leaning against the wall and Olga was pressing herself to his naked body, trying to keep him warm. Stanley's face looked as if he had been hit by a truck, but he was standing erect and his expression was alert.
Miranda felt helpless and miserable. It was heartbreaking to see her father, such a strong character, wounded and tied up. Hugo was a rotter but he hardly deserved this: he looked as if he might have suffered permanent damage. And Olga was a hero, trying so hard to comfort the husband who had betrayed her.
The others had tea towels stuffed into their mouths, but Daisy had not bothered to gag Miranda, presumably because there was no point in anyone shouting now that the police had gone. Miranda realized, with a spurt of hope, that she might be able to remove the gags. "Daddy, lean down," she said. He bent his tall figure over her obediently, the end of the gag trailing from his mouth. She tilted her head as if to kiss him. She was able to catch a corner of the tea towel between her teeth. She tugged, pulling part of it out; then, frustratingly, it slipped.