‘Unzip your jacket,’he said.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kingston saw Jamie flinch but Fox hadn’t noticed it.
Slowly Kingston unzipped the jacket.
‘Open it up, all the way, so I can see inside.’
Kingston did so, revealing the lining and the two inside pockets on either side, both small and obviously empty.
After a second or so Kingston let his hands fall to his side.
‘So, you’re not going to tell me where you hid them? Is that it?’
Nobody answered.
‘They’re back there somewhere, aren’t they?’
Silence.
‘Answer me, damn it!’
‘Why don’t you go back and take a look?’said Kingston.
‘Don’t be smart with me.’
‘Okay, we’ll come with you but let Jamie go.’
‘Let her go?’he scoffed. ‘You really think I’m that stupid?’
Kingston was now determined to get Fox riled up. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen Roger slip the weighty ten-inch long black flashlight from his jacket pocket and conceal it behind his back. His intent was clear and it worried Kingston. If Roger was going to make an attempt to take Fox out it could be extremely risky and he’d only get one chance at it. Kingston needed to distract Fox and the only ways he could think of doing that were either to get him as infuriated and paranoid as possible or gain his attention by hinting where the paintings might be.
‘Yes, I do think you’re stupid. And let me tell you why.’ Kingston turned away from Fox and stepped back, looking at the trunk. He needed to get Fox into a position where he wasn’t looking straight on at Roger, while bringing the two of them closer.
‘First of all, even if you do find these fictitious paintings—which we don’t have, by the way—do you really think you’re going to walk out of here scot-free? How are you going to do that? You’ve already committed more than one capital crime down here, enough to put you behind bars for a long time. Are you going to commit more?’
‘I’ve had just about enough of you, Kingston,’ Fox hissed. ‘We’re staying here till I get those paintings.’
Kingston was ready to play the only card he could come up with.
‘You may be overlooking something.’
‘What might that be?’
‘Well, if I were concealing something valuable in a trunk I wouldn’t lay it on the inside where everybody could see it.’
Fox glanced at the trunk, brows furrowed. ‘What are you getting at?’
‘Come on, Fox, use your bloody imagination, man.’
Fox edged a little closer to the trunk. Off to the side, Roger inched a couple of feet closer to Fox.
For a few seconds, Fox’s attention was focused entirely on the trunk but the gun was still levelled at Kingston and his hand wasn’t wavering.
Fox took his eyes off the trunk and looked at Kingston. ‘A false bottom. It’s got a false bottom. Is that it?’
‘I don’t know. I’m just guessing.’
‘Turn the trunk on its side, so I can see, then you examine it.’
Kingston leaned down and upended the trunk so that the inside was visible to Fox then stood back. In the split second that Fox’s attention was on the trunk, he flashed a quick look at Roger who was now within striking distance.
‘Well, don’t just stand there, examine it, man,’ Fox said impatiently.
Kingston approached the trunk and knelt down, peering inside and tapping the base and the sides as if he knew what he was doing. He could tell, looking at the dimensions, that a false bottom was unlikely. He was about to stand and explain that to Fox when he heard the loud thump of the heavy flashlight striking Fox, followed by an ear-splitting scream of pain. Unknown to him, Roger had missed his target. The flashlight had struck Fox’s shoulder near the neck. When Kingston turned, he saw Roger and Fox on the ground struggling for the gun still in Fox’s grip. The flashlight was close by, too risky for him or Jamie to retrieve. She had backed off knowing that any second Kingston would become involved.
‘Run for it, Jamie!’ Kingston shouted. ‘Call Chadwick.’
She didn’t hesitate, leaping up the steps and disappearing into the chapel.
As Kingston was about to join the fray, waiting for the right moment to dive into the mêlée, the gun went off.
The blast, reverberating down the corridor, was followed by the thwack and whine of the bullet as it ricocheted off the stone floor and walls. For an instant the three of them ducked and froze, Kingston praying that the errant bullet would stray harmlessly. The brief moment was enough to allow Fox to roll free, gun still in hand. He took a wild swing with it, the barrel glancing off Roger’s forehead. Roger cried out and rolled over on his side, clutching his head. Before Kingston could grapple with Fox, Fox was on his feet running up the stairs after Jamie.