‘If you hurt her—’
‘Who are you?’ Michel said, a sneer on his face.
Ella squirmed. Henrik’s finger twitched on the gun that hung by his side. Had Michel even spotted the weapon yet in the darkness?
‘I asked you a question,’ Michel prompted, tugging on Ella’s hair to pull her head back and expose more of her neck as if a further threat of what he’d do.
‘I’m no one,’ Henrik said. ‘But you know her. You know Ella.’
‘You shouldn’t have come here.’
‘Let her go.’
No reaction at all from Michel. His face remained in a snarl, the dim light shining on it making his features look haggard and sinister.
‘I said, let her go.’
Henrik raised the gun, slowly, so as to not cause a sudden reaction from Michel, whose eyes found the weapon and Henrik noticed the confidence slipping from his face.
‘Shoot him!’ Ella screamed.
Henrik pulled the trigger.
Not entirely a conscious reaction. An impulsive response. A pre-emptive response, really.
The big problem was that Henrik had no skill with a firearm. The kickback sent the barrel jolting upward and the bullet flew up into the ceiling at the far end of the hall. Plaster dust burst into the air on impact. Still, the booming shot caused both Michel and Ella to reel.
She kicked out. Stamped on Michel’s foot. The knife came away from her neck. Henrik pulled the trigger again. Had set his pose more rigidly this time, but Michel was moving quickly and stooped down as the bullet sailed over his head. He dashed across the hall, to a doorway for a darkened room at the front.
Henrik rushed forward and grabbed Ella. Her eyes were teary. A dribble of blood snaked down the delicate skin on her neck.
‘You’re okay,’ Henrik said.
She nodded in response.
‘Michel!’ Henrik shouted out. He looked at Ella once again. ‘Get behind me.’
She did so, crouching down, as though she expected Michel to race out into the open at any second. He still had the knife. Was there another weapon in that room too?
Henrik glanced over his shoulder, into the lit room behind him. A big torch, sitting on a side table.
‘Grab the light,’ Henrik said to Ella.
She looked unsure. She shook with fear.
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I won’t let him hurt you.’
‘We should go. Henrik, please.’
‘No.’
They stared – glared? – at each other for a few moments before Ella took one, then two steps backward. Then she spun and darted for the torch, grabbed it, raced back, and pretty much skidded to a stop by Henrik’s side.
‘Slowly,’ he whispered to her, before taking a step forward, the gun held out, both hands around the grip.
A bang from the room in front of them. Both of them flinched. Another bang. A scrape. A scratch.
‘He’s trying to get out,’ Ella said.
Henrik agreed. Michel was trying to force the window, and the boards on the other side.
Henrik moved forward with a bit more confidence and purpose. He reached the doorway and pulled up on the adjacent wall. He sneaked a peek but could see nothing in the dark room, the beam from the torch not reaching inside.
‘On three, shine the light for me,’ he said to her. Ella nodded. ‘One, two… three.’
She stepped into the doorway, torch beam arcing outward. Henrik dashed into the room. His eyes darted left and right. Found Michel. The far left of the room. Scrabbling at the window frame. Like a rat trying to claw its way out of a cage. He paused, perhaps realizing his attempt at freedom was fruitless. He turned. His face caught in the torchlight. Not as sinister as before. No knife in his hands. The blade lay on the floor, a couple of feet in front of him.
Michel’s eyes flicked down to the knife then back up to Henrik.
‘You’ll never reach it in time,’ Henrik said.
‘No? Probably not before you fire. But you’re not exactly a good shot, are you?’
‘Take the risk if you want.’
Silence for a few moments.
‘You’d really shoot me?’ Michel questioned, almost mocking. ‘You’d really risk killing me? You’re a kid. What are you? Fourteen?’
Henrik didn’t respond to the taunt.
‘He’s someone you shouldn’t underestimate,’ Ella said, and despite the tension in the room, Henrik beamed inside at her words.
‘You have no clue, do you?’ Michel said to her.
‘Actually, we do,’ Henrik said. ‘We know about you and Didier Lenglet.’
Michel shook his head but kept his mouth shut.
‘He sold you drugs,’ Henrik said.
Michel’s face twitched but still not a word.
‘So what was it?’ Henrik asked. ‘Did you only do it for the money?’
‘Do what?’ Michel barked back, his tone angry and confrontational now.
‘Were you there that night?’ Ella asked. ‘Did you help Didier Lenglet kill Sophie’s family?’
Absolutely no reaction on Michel’s face. Until he burst out laughing. An irritatingly sarcastic laugh.
‘You two. Seriously? You’ve been watching too much Scooby-Doo. Look…’ He pulled at his cheeks. ‘No mask. It’s just me. Simple, boring, Michel.’
‘You did it,’ Henrik said. ‘I know you did. You did it for the money. How much did you get?’
Michel shook his head.
‘Did you pull the trigger? Or were you too scared? Yeah, that was it. You had Didier do all the dirty work? Coward.’
‘You stupid boy. You have no clue.’
But Henrik didn’t believe a word.
‘And where’s Sophie now?’ he asked. ‘Your girlfriend. She was supposed to die that night. Did you let her escape because you got scared, or was it just a stupid mistake?’
Michel breathed in heavily as he glared daggers at Henrik.
‘You probably hoped she’d die out there. Did you have to pretend when she came back? Pretend to her you were happy? Or did she already know what you’d done?’
Still no response from Michel.
Henrik shook his head. ‘That’s it. She knew. That’s why her aunt protected her. Kept her away from the press and the police. Away from you. Except you couldn’t let her talk. You had to make sure. And that’s when she disappeared. Is she dead now too?’
‘No. I’m not.’
The soft female voice came from out in the hall. Henrik spun around, gun pointed that way. Ella did the same with the torch.
Sophie Thibaud stood there, calm as anything, at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Do I look dead to you?’
No response.
‘Do I look at all distressed to be here with Michel?’
She didn’t, and Henrik’s brain whirred. What had he got wrong?
Sophie took a step forward. Ella took a step back, toward Henrik, who swung the gun from Sophie and back to Michel, confusion consuming him.
‘Sophie?’ Ella said.
‘What’s going on?’ Henrik blurted, unimpressed that he couldn’t think of anything stronger to say.
Sophie came inside, met Michel in the middle of the room.
‘As I was trying to explain to you, I didn’t kill Sophie’s family,’ Michel said, still sounding angry. ‘I love her.’
‘But… Didier—’
‘Yeah, I knew Didier. That doesn’t mean I wanted him to kill Sophie and her family, you imbecile.’
‘Then why—’
‘Sophie, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do,’ Ella butted in.
‘I know. I will.’
‘Then do it now,’ Henrik said, still pointing the gun at the two in front of him, still not sure what to think.
‘Please,’ Sophie said. ‘You don’t need that here.’
‘But…’ Michel paused and looked at Sophie, then back at Henrik. ‘You came here because of Sophie, didn’t you?’
No response from Henrik or Ella.
‘You came here to help me,’ Sophie said, a look of admiration on her face.
‘Yes,’ Ella said when Henrik didn’t respond.
‘You know why we’re here,’ Sophie said.
‘Hiding,’ Ella suggested.
‘We had to get Sophie away,’ Michel said. ‘Before she got hurt too.’
‘Hurt by who?’ Ella asked.
‘But now… The four of us together. Perhaps we can make a difference.’
‘Hurt by who?’ Ella asked again. ‘Who are you afraid of, Sophie?’
‘Her aunt,’ Michel said in such a way as to suggest Henrik and Ella really should have got that by now.
‘Monique?’ Henrik clarified.
‘She did this,’ Sophie said. ‘She had my family killed. She wants me dead too.’
‘Why?’ Ella said.
‘She killed Sophie’s family. She’s been clearing up ever since,’ Michel said. ‘Lenglet and Touba first of all. Her two assassins. But Sophie was the one she really needed to get rid of.’
‘Why?’ Henrik asked again.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Michel said. ‘With Sophie gone, she becomes the last Thibaud. She owns everything.’
‘But the four of us together,’ Sophie said, her face brightening. ‘I think we can stop her.’