The North Face of the Heart - Dolores Redondo Page 0,124

blood confirmed her story. The quantity on the stairs meant that whoever lost it was in danger of bleeding out completely. Dupree heard water splashing. The movements sent ripples across the surface of the dirty lapping water. Dupree turned to the old woman, pointed toward the far end of the attic, and whispered, “I want you to go over there next to your man and your grandson. Y’all stay right there and keep quiet. You hear?”

She nodded without a word and retreated to settle down next to the old man, who was gasping for breath.

Dupree motioned to Amaia and Johnson. They positioned themselves next to Charbou, who showed his dislike for what was happening by shaking his head and glaring at his partner. Amaia saw he was furious. He planted himself on the stairwell where Johnson sent him, but he didn’t object when Dupree and Bull took the lead on the way downstairs.

They avoided the trail of blood as they descended, pressing themselves against the wall as they approached the landing.

“This is the police!”

Charbou pointed to the turn and signaled to Dupree that the suspect was there, just as they’d expected. The water on the ground floor was deep enough to be over anyone’s head, so the suspect had to be on the stairs.

“We know you’re there, and we know you’re hurt!” Bull called out. “Throw your weapons into the water and put your hands above your head, where we can see them!”

Again, they heard the splash of someone wading through the water.

“We’re armed and there’s no other way out.” Bull’s voice left no room for doubt. “Don’t make this any more complicated than it has to be. We’ll shoot you if we have to!”

Bull peeked around the turn in the staircase and pulled back immediately. He gestured and mouthed his report without making a sound: “He’s right there. Water up to his knees.” He made a fist, extended his index finger and thumb, then shook the hand from side to side to indicate he hadn’t seen a weapon.

Dupree turned to pass the information silently to those above. He found that Amaia had followed and was right behind him.

Dupree covered Bull, who pressed against the wall as he descended with his pistol ready. The figure began thrashing wildly as soon as the flashlight beam hit him. He kept his head lowered, and a mop of dirty hair hid his face. He swayed from side to side as if about to collapse. Bull shined the flashlight at the man’s feet. The water around him was stained deep red, and each time he lifted his leg, a flash of something stark white emerged from the pool of blood. With his next step, the figure tottered as if about to collapse.

Bull guessed the white object was maybe eight inches long. He hadn’t seen it clearly, but it might have been the handle of a knife or small machete. The suspect had no other weapon, or at least he wasn’t carrying one, for one hand was against the wall and the other clutched the wooden rail. Bull moved the flashlight beam upward, trying to illuminate the man’s face, but the tilted head and mass of hair made that impossible.

Bull realized that the suspect hadn’t made a single sound. He hadn’t moaned or complained either, even though he was bleeding profusely and having trouble keeping himself erect. Bull aimed the light below the man’s waist again, got a closer look, lost his footing, and fell back on his haunches on the stairs.

Dupree rushed down to Bull, training his gun on the suspect as he helped the cop to his feet. They descended side by side and halted two stairs above the hunched figure. Dupree shouted at the suspect to sit down. Above them, Amaia used her own flashlight to illuminate the scene, revealing the suspect’s puny frame wrapped in some kind of knee-length poncho. He was bent almost double, and his neck seemed to be sunk between his shoulder blades in an unnatural position.

“It’s a woman,” Amaia breathed behind them.

Giving no sign she saw or heard them, the agonized creature continued turning in awkward circles, using her long, bony hands to maintain her balance, her overgrown fingernails like dark claws clutching the handrail and leaving deep scratches in the varnished finish. Amaia saw clearly what had so astonished Bull. And when the woman next stepped through the pool of bloody water, the others saw that the brilliant white object they’d mistaken for the handle of