Kingston helped Roger to his feet. The gash on his forehead was oozing blood but he insisted that he was all right. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Kingston said. ‘Fox isn’t stupid enough to let us escape, too. He’ll be back here any moment.’
Roger nodded, touching his bleeding forehead, taking a handkerchief from his pocket.
‘Take your time, Roger, keep the flashlight, I have to stop that bastard from getting his hands on Jamie.’ He turned to run up the steps when a shot rang out from above.
‘Jesus!’ Kingston breathed.
Roger was staring up the steps holding a handkerchief to his forehead, his face ghostly. He looked as if he wanted to say something but the words wouldn’t come.
Kingston bolted up the stairs into the chapel.
‘Not so fast, doctor.’
Kingston stopped in his tracks.
Fox was midway down the aisle, gun in hand.
‘Did you really think I’d leave you two before I got what I came for?’
‘What did you do to Jamie?’ Kingston snapped.
‘Never mind. Start worrying about your own health, because it’s not looking so good right now. Tell me where those paintings are and just maybe we can strike a deal.’
‘First, I want to know where Jamie is and if she’s all right.’
‘We seem to be going round in circles and frankly I’m getting tired of it. I’ve waited a long time for you to find these paintings and I want them—now!’
Gripping the pew next to him, Kingston stared him down and said nothing.
Fox waved the gun at him. His eyes were boring into Kingston’s, his face a mask of pent-up rage. ‘All right, if you want to play this kind of game you may end up paying a big price—all three of you. Makes no difference to me.’ He held the gun steady. ‘Well, say something goddamit!’
‘I’ve said all I’m going to say,’ Kingston answered in a level tone. ‘Tell me about Jamie and then we can talk about the paintings.’
‘Listen, Kingston. I’ve been waiting years for this moment and I’m going to get them whatever it costs. Do you understand?’
Kingston didn’t reply. Fox had told Jamie that he had learned about the paintings right after Ryder died. What did Fox mean by waiting years?
Fox spoke again.
‘You don’t look surprised. Yes, I’ve known about the paintings for a long time but unfortunately I’ve never been in a position to do much about them. But I knew that when you started to nose around, getting more and more inquisitive about Ryder and this place and why that ungrateful bastard left it all to a bloody American woman, of all people—I had a gut feel that sooner or later you’d find them. All it took was patience and a little help along the way. Oh yes, I know all about the paintings and I know damned well that I saw one of them in your possession in that room.’
He started to walk towards Kingston, waving the gun in the direction of the steps. ‘Why don’t we do this?’ he said calmly. ‘Let’s go down and have a little talk with that idiot friend of yours. I have a feeling after that you’ll want to tell me.’
Kingston descended the steps followed by Fox.
At the foot of the steps, Kingston stopped. Ferguson was gone.
‘Looks like that talk may have to wait,’ said Kingston.
‘A foolish move on his part and he’ll regret it.’
‘I have to know. Is Jamie hurt? We heard the shot.’
Fox didn’t reply. Clearly he was flustered, trying to figure out his next move. He moved next to the trunk and knelt beside it, looking up at Kingston. ‘Step back,’he said motioning with the gun. ‘Make a move and I’m going to use this.’
Kingston watched as Fox examined the inside of the trunk, glancing up every few seconds to check on him.
‘You don’t believe me. There is no false compartment,’ said Kingston.
Fox stood. ‘You’re coming with me,’ he said, aiming the gun at Kingston. ‘Get up there.’
Kingston started up the steps. Despite the fact that his life and quite possibly Roger’s were in jeopardy, he couldn’t stop agonizing about Jamie. The idea that Fox might even have taken a shot at her enraged him. He reached the top of the steps and entered the chapel. When he reached the aisle he stopped and, hearing Fox coming up the steps behind him, took a quick glance over his shoulder.
He almost gasped but managed to suppress it. Fox was on the second to last step, his head and shoulders just above the chapel’s floor level. Behind him, concealed by the pew, Jamie was waiting, hands above her head, brandishing one of the bronze candleholders like a baseball bat. She’d apparently ripped it off the wall. No sooner than Kingston saw her, she brought down the candlestick with a surprising display of force on the back of Fox’s head. Kingston turned to meet Fox’s eyes just before they closed and his body slumped to the floor.