Jimmy is alone on the down as dusk arrives. He hasn’t followed Naomi’s request even though her plea for help this morning is still ringing in his ears. He set off for Middle Town and almost reached the settlement before panic drove him back. How could he explain to anyone that she’s in danger, when he can’t even speak? Naomi said that the killer might return; it would be his fault if the man hurt her. He’s been patrolling the area around her house all day, too afraid to leave it unguarded. He can’t face another death on his conscience, so he watches the front entrance, from inside a thicket of elm trees, with an old branch gripped in his hand as a weapon. He has stared at the old mansion’s gates for so long his vision is blurred. The night birds are beginning their evening chorus, but their song is hard to interpret. Are they telling him to keep watch, or run for help? He dithers for another minute before deciding. He must find someone trustworthy, who will understand what’s wrong.
When he looks up again, the Tolmans’ house is lit up like a beacon across the bay. Jimmy gives the old mansion a final glance before floundering through the bushes. He’s out of breath when he reaches the Tolmans’ property, where lights blaze from the ground floor windows, but when he raps on the door, the architect’s wife answers. Deborah stands there waiting for him to speak, but all that emerges from his mouth is a rush of garbled sounds.
‘Leave that stick in the porch then come inside, Jimmy.’
He points across the bay, trying to make himself understood, but Deborah just smiles and opens the door wider.
‘Martin’s at the pub, but he’ll be back soon. Come through to the kitchen; you look hungry.’
Deborah leads him to the kitchen then places a cup of milk and a wedge of cake in front of him. His hunger is so great that he gobbles it down, without noticing that she’s left the room, but once the food is finished, her quiet voice echoes through the wall. She’s calling the police, her tone low and insistent, filling him with panic. He rises to his feet so fast the chair clatters to the floor. If the police take him, Naomi will never escape. Mrs Tolman calls out his name as he runs down the hallway, but it’s too late. He yanks the front door open then runs back through the clearing.