Frankie's Letter - By Dolores Gordon-Smith Page 0,108

readied himself, bunching the muscles in his legs. Then once again, von Hagen raised his hand and struck out in a stunning blow.

He’d made a mistake. This time Anthony wasn’t tied up.

Anthony launched himself away from the blow and flung himself at von Hagen, knife at the ready. Keegan, taken by surprise, fumbled the gun, dropped it and tried to knock the knife out of Anthony’s hand. Von Hagen jumped back but Anthony felt the knife dig into something solid.

Keegan kicked out, Anthony staggered back, crashed into von Hagen and they all went down together. Anthony felt a knee on his chest and hit out wildly. Someone crunched into his wounded arm and Anthony, mad with pain, hit blindly at the body in front of him.

He heard a gasp. Not a big gasp, but a sound as if a heavy man had sat on a cushion. Von Hagen stared at him with wide open eyes that showed nothing but absolute astonishment. He put a hand to his white shirt-front and brought it away black with something. It seemed to take Anthony ages to work out it was blood. Still with his eyes wide open, von Hagen tried to speak, gave another gasp, and fell, the knife buried in his chest.

‘Where’s the bloody gun?’ shouted the chauffeur.

‘I dropped it,’ yelled Keegan. ‘The boss is a gonner.’

The chauffeur took one look at von Hagen’s staring eyes. ‘Bloody hell!’ he muttered, backing away. ‘Bloody hell, Keegan, let’s get out of here.’ He groped his way into the car.

‘Wait!’ shouted Keegan, over the revving of the engine. He vaulted into the car beside the chauffeur. ‘Go! Go!’

The headlights snapped on and the car lurched out of the clearing, missing the trees by inches.

Anthony slumped down against the old garden wall.

‘Tara,’ he called, raising his head. ‘You can come out now.’

She came out of the darkness to sit beside him. Anthony realized she was crying. He reached out and comforted her with his good arm, holding her close to his chest, her head on his shoulder.

With a lifting of his heart he realized what he’d always known. Tara, clever, resourceful, passionate, loyal Tara was his; had to be his. As he realized the dangers she had faced and the trials she had surmounted to be safe with him at last, he was too happy to speak. He mourned Josette, mourned her deeply, but as he sat, holding Tara close, he felt a wave of deep contentment wash over him.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said eventually, drying her eyes with her sleeve. ‘I’m sorry to cry, but I’ve been so scared. Josette was with them. Where is she?’

Anthony didn’t say anything. She looked at his face and understood. ‘She’s dead?’

‘Von Hagen killed her,’ said Anthony.

She shuddered. ‘Poor Josette.’

It seemed as good an epitaph as any.

‘What were you doing here?’ asked Anthony. ‘It seemed like a miracle when you patted my hand.’

‘They captured me,’ she said simply. ‘I’d got into the kitchen and seen them in the sitting room. I was outside when they caught me. It was the chauffeur and that other man. They argued what to do with me, then said they’d leave it up to the boss to decide.’ Anthony pulled her closer to him with a convulsive shudder. ‘They tied me up and locked me in the shed but they didn’t know I’d put the bread knife down my riding boot. I managed to get the knife out and cut myself free, then I broke the window and escaped.’

‘But why were you here in the first place?’ asked Anthony.

‘I met Matthew Stoker, the carter, on the road. He was talking to Ben Travis, which I thought was odd. Ben’s done odd-jobs for us lots of times but he’s a tramp, really. He’s usually beneath Stoker’s notice, but Stoker wanted to share a joke with him about a ditch and I imagine he thought Ben would do as well as anyone. Ben asked me if they needed any men for this film being made at Starhanger. I guessed what had happened from what Stoker told me. Then Ben said he wondered if this film was to blame for his usual sleeping-place, the old gamekeeper’s cottage, being taken over by a bunch of toffs in a car. Well, that sounded unusual, so I went to have a look. I left my horse tethered, walked to the edge of the clearing and saw Josette by the car. I knew Josette was involved, after you’d showed me that photograph