Despite the strong wind, the night had remained clear, with only an occasional cloud scudding across the star-filled sky.
Annie had left their car in a shaded corner of the driveway. She’d called for backup and, given the police presence already in the area, she expected it to arrive imminently. But there was no time to waste. She and Zoe had approached the house, alert for an sign of an intruder alarm that might reveal their presence.
Although the rear doors of the van had been left open, as if the occupants had vacated it hurriedly, the front door of the house was closed and firmly locked. ‘Let’s have a look round the back,’ Annie said. ‘We need to get inside, but I’d like to get an idea of what we might be facing before we try.’
She led the way round the side of the house into a sizeable former farmyard, now largely converted to create an attractive-looking semi-walled garden, with views out over the moorland. This was a large and impressive place, Annie thought. However he might make his money, Kennedy was obviously doing very well for himself.
She took another few steps forward, Zoe close behind her. At the far end of the yard was a large open barn, which had presumably once been used for storing agricultural equipment but now appeared to be simply decorative, a renovated reminder of the house’s former life.
The interior of the barn was lit by spotlights and she could see, assembled as if on a stage, a tableau of four individuals. Two men and a woman standing. Beside them, another woman kneeling. The kneeling woman, Annie saw at once, was Sheena.
At first, Annie couldn’t work out what she was seeing. The second woman was standing behind Sheena, holding Sheena’s head down, a knife glinting in her hand. It took Annie a moment to realise what the scene reminded her of. Then it came to her. It was a painting she’d seen somewhere, years before, of Abraham preparing to kill his son Isaac. The figures were very different, but the pose was identical.
Her fear was that, by revealing her presence, she might startle the woman into completing the act she had already started. But they had only seconds to spare, and she was too far away to reach the barn in time.
‘Police! Don’t move!’ Her voice echoed around the yard. She could see the individuals in the barn look up in surprise, but the woman remained focused on her task and for a moment Annie thought she was too late. Then she realised that Zoe had already started running towards the barn.
The woman hesitated a moment too long, surprised by the sight of Zoe Everett pounding towards her. Then Zoe was on her, forcing her back, trying to wrestle the knife from the woman’s hand.
Annie was running too and had reached the barn. She’d been wondering how best to deal with the two men so that she could focus on helping Zoe. But neither man appeared to be in a state to offer any resistance. Both looked defeated, dispirited, as though everything had fallen apart for them. She was startled to realise that, now she was closer, she recognised the younger of the two men. That far-right bastard, Mo Henley. The other man, she assumed, was Robin Kennedy.
She had no time to consider the implications. Zoe was on top of the woman, forcing her back on to the ground, desperately trying to weaken her grip on the knife.
Then Annie realised the woman was saying something, a stream of venom directed apparently at Kennedy. ‘This is your fault,’ she was saying. ‘You’ve led us to this. You’ve never had any real belief. You’ve just used us for your own fucking ends. God, I hope you really do end up burning in the fires of hell. I just want to see your flesh melt.’
The effect on Zoe was sudden and unexpected. She jerked back as if the woman had physically struck her, and Annie could see a look of absolute terror on her face. It was as if she was frozen, struck down by the woman’s words as if by some kind of incantation.
The woman clearly realised that something had changed and pushed upward, forcing Zoe away from her. Zoe fell backwards, still apparently unable to move, as the woman raised the knife and began to swing it down.
Annie reacted instinctively, throwing herself forward and grabbing the woman’s arm, pulling the knife away from Zoe, pushing the woman back on to the ground. She realised immediately that the woman was going to be too strong for her, and she knew she was in no position to gain any further leverage. The woman twisted away, the knife still clutched in her hand. But instead of moving towards Annie, she moved to the left and grabbed Kennedy, who had been watching the scene in horror.
Annie moved to stop her, but it was already too late. She had plunged the knife into Kennedy’s chest and then, extracting it with unexpected skill, she drew it across her own throat. Annie closed her eyes as the blood spurted from the severed artery.
Beside her, on the ground, Zoe had begun to sob.