the house and panic Victor had eased with Miriam’s reassurances that that would only happen if the situation deteriorated. In effect, if the assembled police surrounding the house heard the gun going off again.
A narrative was being played out at the press conference. Nothing subtle about Gavin Darcy’s questions. Hearing the chief inspector’s efforts to hold back the insinuation that came with every question the presenter asked, the shape of Victor’s intentions crystallised.
To escape alive and unharmed – she refused to contemplate any other option – she needed to be inside his mind. He would not hesitate to kill them when it suited him. Murder-suicide. He had tossed the term at her and Luke, knowing the petrifying images it conveyed. To defeat him, she had to visualise how he would carry out such an atrocious crime.
The basement was his only option. She remembered the musty tunnel and the steps leading to the overgrown labyrinth of shrubs, brambles and the neglected orchard. It would provide him with perfect cover for his escape. When the time was right, he would force her to free Luke from the bonds that she had tied and herd them into this dank grave. Her mind recoiled from the image of Isobel and Julie clinging to her but she forced herself to follow this horrifying train of thought. The gunfire would be muffled and could even cause a delay before the house was stormed. In that gap between decision and action on the part of the police, he would have time to flee. She had forced open the tunnel door when she explored the basement and knew it would yield easily under pressure. Or perhaps not. Was it possible he didn’t know of the basement’s existence? She clung to this hope as she devised one escape ruse after another. Every time she looked towards him, then towards Luke, who was bound and helpless, she felt her chest constrict so violently she feared she would suffer a heart attack.
If she could distract him enough to knock him out… The cast iron frying pan could work but it hung from a hook above the cooker and would take too long to unhook. Longer than it would take for him to fire. A knife, if she could reach the block that held them in position but Victor, anticipating potential danger, had pushed them far back on the dresser counter.
Miriam Gleeson rang again. She showed no signs of impatience when Sophy told her that Luke refused to engage with her. The siege negotiator’s calmness suggested that she would wait indefinitely until he was ready to take her call. Sophy knew the negotiator was listening to her tone, charting every inflection, analysing every word she uttered.
‘Luke will not harm us,’ she said and winced as Victor moved the gun closer to her husband’s head.
‘I’m ready to listen to his side of the story,’ Miriam said. ‘Every problem has a solution but he needs to tell me how he feels. Luke, if you’re listening, and I hope you are, we can bring this situation to a safe conclusion without anyone being hurt. We can work this out between us but you are the person in control. Your children love you and I know you’re devoted to them. Sophy trusts in you. She knows you won’t harm her or the girls so please take the phone from her and talk to me.’
She made it sound so easy. How could she believe her own words? But, then, was it possible to be a siege negotiator without that belief in the powers of persuasion?
Julie was whimpering but directing the sound through Cordelia.
Miriam, hearing her, said, ‘Luke, you don’t have a quarrel with your children. I can hear how upset your daughter is. Can you confirm that she’s safe?’
Victor shrugged, his silence challenging Sophy to respond. He seemed to enjoy watching her struggle to answer Miriam’s questions. Occasionally, he would scribble a reply on a sheet of paper and Sophy would robotically read it out. Whenever he removed one hand from the gun, she would prime herself for an opportunity to lunge at him. Anticipating her thoughts, he never relaxed his guard for an instant.
‘They must be getting impatient out there,’ he said after he signalled to Sophy to end the call. ‘There’s nothing they’d like better than to storm the house, all guns blazing.’
Isobel moaned and pressed her knuckles to her mouth. She had pulled a chair close to Luke and had one arm around his