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The man turned his back, facing the crowd, and lifted his knife as he tried to run at the wall of people to get out.

The onlookers did move, then, shifting out of the way with cries of alarm, but one of the police officers James had noticed stepped in his way and the young man half turned and moved back toward the telephone box.

He’d felt Gabriella slip out of the door and stand just behind him.

“Where is he?”

Her question surprised James. He realized she was speaking to her attacker.

“Did he send you to do this so he could keep his hands clean? That sounds like the kind of man who’d abandon his whole family when it was no longer convenient.”

The youth spun toward them, face contorted in fury. “What do you know about him?”

Gabriella stepped out so that she could face him. “Everything I need to.”

As soon as the youth had turned to face her, the police officer had been joined by a second one, and they crept up behind him.

One brought his baton down on the hand holding the knife, and as soon as it clattered to the ground, they were on him.

Gabriella sagged against him, and he held her up.

“Who is he?” he asked.

“I think that’s my half-brother,” she said. “I think my father asked him to kill me.”

chapter

forty

The rain was coming down hard and James ran around the side of the car with an umbrella and held it over Gabriella as she stepped out. A few drops made it through and the sting of them told her they were carrying tiny chips of ice.

They ran for the well-lit beacon of James’s front entrance, and stood for a moment, dripping on the large mat just inside the door.

Gabriella had been here only once before, but she looked around as James shook the umbrella out and admired the cream walls and the neat row of post boxes to the right of the lifts and the stairs.

The lift dinged just as James turned back to her, and DI Layman stepped out.

Whatever James was about to say died on his lips.

“Archer.” DI Layman looked relieved. “I just left you a note under your door to call me back.” He nodded politely to Gabriella. “Can I have a word?”

James nodded. “Upstairs?”

Layman shook his head. “If Miss Farnsworth doesn’t mind sitting near the lifts, we can speak quietly here.”

Whatever it was, it was obviously official business, and so Gabriella walked to the glossy high table with a pretty vase on it, full of bright blue hydrangeas, and sat on the padded bench with curved sides.

James, who was a head taller than Layman, bent his head close as the two men spoke right beside the doors, but even if they’d spoken at a normal volume, she didn’t think she’d be able to hear them, given the pounding of the rain.

James jerked back his head, glanced at her, looking unhappy, and then turned back to Layman, who looked very tired, like he’d be fine to lie down on the cold black and white tiled floor and go to sleep.

Eventually, the two men shook hands and Layman gave her a small wave, which she returned, and then stepped out, hunching a little so he could pull his coat over his head as he ran for his car.

Gabriella walked to the lift and pressed the button as James walked over to her.

He said nothing until they reached the third floor and had stepped into his flat.

“What is it? Did Jackman get away?” she asked.