‘The inmate has escaped the asylum,’ she said.
She felt helpless standing outside and rushed back to the car to call Eden House for back-up.
‘Get in.’
She drove the short distance to the main entrance, which was deserted.
In the distance, along the driveway they could make out several figures running towards the main house and they knew something was seriously wrong. Her radio crackled again, and they heard medical assistance was on its way to the address. Johnny jumped out and pulled at the gate, expecting it to be locked, but it opened.
She drove through it and Johnny jumped back in, then she sped up the drive, parking outside the grand house.
‘Jesus, look at this pad.’
They jumped out of the car and followed the screams. The front door was wide open and they had no time to stop to admire the beauty and craftsmanship of the house. Kelly never thought her first visit to the famous house would be like this. Inside, the screaming echoed off the walls and seemed to come from upstairs. They took the stairs and Kelly ran her hand up the marble balustrade. It felt cold, abandoned and unwelcoming.
She felt like an intruder and as though the house didn’t want them here. As if the screams were meant to remain here forever.
In the distance, through the countless open windows and doors, they heard the whine of sirens. The screams turned to sobbing and when they stopped at the room where all the noise was coming from, they saw why.
A figure was slumped on the floor and Kelly instantly recognised her as Tilda Dent and a housemaid sobbed over her.
But Tilda was lifeless.
Anybody could see that.
Nothing could be done. Her head was caved in and a large glass object covered in blood sat motionless but still potent somehow, as if it could hurt them too.
Kelly went to the body and pressed one finger to the woman’s neck but as she suspected there was nothing. She and Johnny backed away and agreed to check the rest of the house.
There was no sign of anyone else. So the killer had escaped.
Downstairs, they saw Hank returning from the garden nursing a wound on the side of his head.
He looked more stunned by her presence than his situation.
‘Why on earth are you here?’ he asked her.
‘Who did this?’ Kelly asked.
‘Will she live?’
Blood made repellent patterns on Hank’s cream jacket, like raspberry ripple ice cream.
Kevin Streeting appeared behind him, wary and alert.
‘I hope you’re not armed,’ Kelly said.
‘This is private property,’ Hank said.
‘On English soil,’ Johnny said.
‘Diplomatic immunity,’ Hank said.
‘Since when did you become an envoy to the USA?’ she asked him. ‘We’ve got an emergency situation here and you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.’
The Texan slipped back into his Christian, concerned and dutiful persona, and Kelly recognised the switch. The ease with which he flipped made her question everything. She studied him and decided to hold off on questions until she worked out what had happened. The air in the imposing entrance hall was solid with pressure.
The sirens grew louder.
