‘That won’t be necessary. Just hand them up, please.’
Fox moved the flashlight off Kingston to Jamie. ‘Roll them up carefully, loosely if you would, hand them to the lady and have her bring them up the ladder.’
Kingston could now see more clearly. He flinched and stepped back. Fox was holding a small pistol and Kingston was looking right up the barrel.
Jamie glanced at Kingston, waiting for his lead. He said nothing, his face like granite, eyes glowering. It was as if his mind were in overdrive.
Fox spoke again. His voice was calm, almost matter of fact. ‘Don’t force me to use this thing. I’ll ask nicely one more time.’
Kingston let go of her arm and turned to the open metal case. He took out the canvases and took two steps to the packing crate where, with his back to Jamie, he laid the canvases down flat and slowly started to roll them up. Turning back to her he held the rolled canvases in his hand, clutched to his chest as if he was having serious thoughts about giving them up. He had no choice, though. Risking his own life was one thing but a bullet fired in these close quarters could easily endanger Jamie, too. He looked up to see Fox’s face, to look him in the eyes, but the flashlight beam was back on him. All he saw was a halo of light surrounding a shadowy figure.
‘Give them to the lady,’ Fox said calmly.
Kingston handed the canvases to Jamie, letting his hands fall to his side.
‘Hurry up, for Christ’s sake,’ Fox snapped.
Jamie stepped up to the fourth rung of the ladder and stopped, offering the canvases with her outstretched arm.
‘Bring them all the way up.’
Jamie took a nervous backward glance at Kingston then continued up the ladder to where her head was level with the opening. She handed Fox the canvases. Stooping, he took them and stepped back. ‘You can go back down, now,’ he said.
Kingston watched Jamie descend and looked up at Fox again. He had put down the gun but was still holding the flashlight. Kneeling, in full sight through the opening, he was shoving the hefty trapdoor cover with his free hand, sliding it over the opening.
‘Sorry, doctor, but we’re going to have to leave you down here to stew for a while.’
‘You bastard, you …’
‘Oh, and those tools, please. Have the lady hand the bag up, would you?’
Kingston handed the tool bag to Jamie, watching silently as she took them up the ladder and handed them through the half-open trapdoor. As they disappeared, the heavy wooden cover slid in jerks across the opening. It finally came to a stop, leaving a two-inch gap through which Kingston could see only the dancing light from Fox’s flashlight.
‘Sorry we never got the chance to meet, doctor,’ Fox said through the narrow gap. His voice was calm, as though he really meant what he was saying. ‘We would have had a lot to talk about—more than you would ever imagine.’
Before Kingston had a chance to say anything, he saw the gap vanish as the cover slammed shut and Fox’s parting words echoed down. ‘Get comfortable, won’t you, because you could be down there for a long time. A very long time.’
Chapter Twenty-four
The minute Fox locked the trapdoor Kingston was at the top of the ladder examining the underside, thumping it in different places with his fist. He remembered the two black rotating metal brackets that locked the door in place and knew that it would take extreme leverage and force to break them. Soon, he backed down the ladder and joined Jamie who had been unsuccessfully trying to call out on her mobile. Though her face was noticeably pale, he was relieved to see that she appeared reasonably calm.
‘No signal, I’m afraid,’ she said.
‘I’m not surprised. These walls are probably two feet thick and then there are the walls up above, too.’
‘How much longer do you think the lamp will last, Lawrence? Perhaps we should turn it off for a while.’
‘I wouldn’t worry. We should be good for at least another six hours or so but I don’t think we’re going to need anywhere near that long.’
‘I know you’re trying to make me feel better but I don’t mind telling you, I’m scared. Really scared. To hell with the paintings now, Fox can have them. We’re in serious …’ Her voice trailed off and she lowered her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, looking up at him again. ‘Forget what I just said.’
Kingston took her arm and steered her to the trunk. ‘Here, come and sit down,’he said softly.
She sat looking up at him, her eyes unflinching, no longer showing any visible signs of distress. Kingston wondered how many other young women would be able to exercise such self-control given the same terrifying circumstances.