Pulse(98)

The twins were well used to me not being there at bedtime. It was one of the prices they paid for me working shifts.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ Grant said, glancing at the kitchen clock on the wall above the window. ‘It’s five past two.’

The house phone rang loudly in the night stillness.

‘Who on earth’s calling at this time of night?’ Grant said as I picked it up.

It was DC Filippos and he sounded breathless.

‘Dr Rankin,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m afraid there has been a development. Rupert Forrester has disappeared from the hospital after giving the constable there the slip.’

My heart missed a beat.

‘When was this?’ I asked.

‘About an hour ago. I went there to arrest him and he was gone.’

An hour ago!

‘Why didn’t you call me before?’

‘Because we had no reason to believe you were in any danger.’

It was his use of the word had that worried me.

‘But now you do,’ I said.

‘I am currently at Mr Forrester’s house and I’ve just spoken to his wife. She wasn’t at the dinner and knows nothing of the events of this evening at the Queens. However, when her husband arrived home a while ago, he told her some nonsense about there being vermin at the racecourse that he had to deal with immediately, and he left again in his wife’s car. And he took his shotgun with him.’

My heart missed another beat.

‘I explained to Mrs Forrester that I had come to arrest her husband and why. She is now deeply upset and very anxious that he intends to use the gun to kill himself. But I thought you should know.’

‘I want protection,’ I screamed into the phone. ‘I want it now for me and my family.’

‘I will dispatch a patrol car to your house right away,’ he said, and disconnected.

I looked at Grant. ‘Forrester has escaped and he’s got a gun.’

‘Surely he won’t come here,’ he said.

I wasn’t so certain.

Revenge is a deep and powerful emotion. I knew. It had been revenge that had forced me to survive the cocaine and then to drive to the Queens Hotel when I’d had no right to be on the road.

In Forrester’s warped logic, he would believe that I was the reason for his downfall and, even if he did intend to kill himself, I feared he would want to take me with him.

‘I’ll get the boys up,’ I said decisively. ‘We’re going somewhere else.’

‘Where to?’

‘I don’t care, but away from here,’ I said. ‘Forrester knows exactly where we live. It was either him or his driver who drove over Oliver’s bike and put it back on our driveway.’

I walked down the hall towards the stairs but was only halfway there when there was a long shrill ring from the front doorbell.

That was quick, I thought, assuming that it was the police.

I almost had my hand on the latch before I realised it might not be the police after all.

The bell rang again.

I went into the dark sitting room and glimpsed out through a tiny gap in the curtains.

Rupert Forrester was standing there with the shotgun raised to his shoulder, aimed directly at the door, waiting to shoot whoever opened it.

My heart was now racing almost as fast as it had done earlier, but it was no longer due to cocaine. Mortal danger was a much more potent stimulant.

Keeping low, I slipped back into the hallway and down the corridor towards the kitchen. Grant was still there and he didn’t need to ask me who it was. He could see the fear plainly writ in my eyes.

‘Call the police,’ I whispered urgently at him – but how could anyone get to us quicker than the patrol car already dispatched by DC Filippos?

Grant had just been put through to the emergency operator when there was an almighty bang and crash from the front door.

Forrester had obviously become fed up waiting for someone to answer the doorbell and had decided to expedite matters by shooting the lock off completely, sending shards of glass and wooden splinters right down the hallway into the kitchen.

I screamed.

‘Out the back,’ Grant shouted at me. He made a beeline for the back door and disappeared out into the darkness

What? And leave my boys alone in the house with an armed madman?

It was surely my life he wanted, not theirs, and I’d gladly die if it meant my twins were saved. I stayed exactly where I was.

Down the hall, I could hear as Forrester pushed open the remains of the front door.

But what if he first went up the stairs? Up towards the boys?

I couldn’t allow that to happen.

‘In here, you bastard,’ I shouted. ‘I’m in here.’

I searched around for a weapon, but even the carving knife from the block on the kitchen counter would be unlikely to be much use against a double-barrelled 12-bore shotgun.

Not unless I threw it.

I drew the sharp blade out of the wood and raised it above my right shoulder, ready to fling.

Then I awaited the inevitable, my respiration becoming shallow and fast as awful trepidation twisted my stomach into knots, making me feel sick.

The first sign of my impending doom was the sight of the long barrels appearing through the kitchen doorway, the twin circles at their ends moving from side to side like eyes seeking me out.