beside Bryn’s body. A red stain was already running down the rock. Gently he turned the boy over. Bryn’s face was ashen gray. Evan felt for a pulse, then struggled to open his shirt. As he did so, the boy’s eyes fluttered open.
“I’m a hero, right, Mr. Evans?” he asked.
“You certainly are, Bryn.”
“Am I going to die?”
“I think you’re going to be okay,’ Evan said, putting his hand gently on the boy’s arm. “You were lucky. The bullet went clean through your shoulder. You won’t be putting out any fires for a while, that’s for sure—or starting any.”
The boy managed a grin. “About that, Mr. Evans . . . I’m really sorry. I really am. Will they put me in jail?”
Evan took a deep breath. “If it never happens again, I doubt they’ll ever get to the bottom of it. What do you think, Bryn?”
The boy’s lip quivered. “You mean you’re not going to tell them?”
“As I said, if it never happens again, I don’t reckon the case will ever be solved.”
“It won’t happen again. I promise.” He tried to sit up and gasped in pain. “When I thought that the kid was in those trees . . . I swear, I’d have done anything . . .”
“You did, Bryn. You risked your life. And bloody silly it was, too, diving at an armed man. Lucky you’re in the fire brigade and not the police, or they’d have your hide for that one.”
Bryn grinned again. Evan took off his shirt and folded it over the wound. “Here, keep some pressure on that. I’m going down to get help. I won’t be long.”
“What about young Terry?”
“I’m going to get him down first.”
A few minutes later he climbed up onto the ledge and was met by a frightened pair of eyes as the boy tried to make himself invisible against the rock wall.
“It’s all right, Terry, it’s me. You can come down now,” he said.
Relief overwhelmed the boy’s face. “I heard shooting,” he said. “I didn’t dare move.”
“It’s all right. Bryn and I got the gun away from him,” Evan said.
“Bryn? He’s up here with you? He came to rescue me?” A big smile lit up his face.
“Yes, and he got a bullet through his shoulder stopping the bloke from picking you off.”
“He got shot?” Terry scrambled from the ledge and started to climb down the boulders. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yes, I think he’ll be fine. Why don’t you stay with him until I bring help?”
“All right, Mr. Evans.” Terry was still beaming. Evan saw him run to Bryn. “I’ll stay with you,” he heard the boy say. “Here, let me put my jacket over you.”
Evan smiled as he left them and ran down through the trees. The land around the forest was blackened and still smoking. He hadn’t gone far when he saw the fire crew hosing down the hillside.
“We’ve got our arsonist, Constable Evans,” one of the firemen yelled as he approached them. “Foreign-looking bloke came running down here as if the hounds of hell were after him. A couple of our men nabbed him and they’re taking him down to your chaps. Fought like a tiger, he did, when we got him. Who’d have thought it was a foreigner, eh? And I don’t mean an Englishman, either.” He paused and took a good look at Evan. “Are you all right, Constable Evans?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” It only just occurred to him that he must look rather the worse for wear—blackened from fighting the fire and probably bruised and cut from wrestling with the Frenchman. But he had won. He had the gun in his hand. Not bad for a village bobby!
“I’ve got a wounded boy up there,” he said. “Gunshot wound. I’m calling for an ambulance as soon as I get down, but if you’ve got anyone who is a trained paramedic . . .”
“Elwyn is. Hey, Elwyn,” the fireman yelled. “Get over here.”
Two squad cars were parked at the bottom of the hill. Two officers were just putting handcuffs on le Tigre as Evan arrived, out of breath and aching from his exertion.
“What the . . . Evans?” Sergeant Watkins ran to meet him.
“Here’s his gun, Sarge.” Evan handed over the weapon. “There’s a wounded boy up the mountain. Call the ambulance, please.”
“Are you okay?” Watkins put a hand on his shoulder. “Come and sit down. Nice work, by the way. Trust you to have found him!”
“All luck, Sarge, and a lot of help,” Evan said.
At that