A tooth broke free beneath her knuckle.
Kim felt release in the anger that had taken over her body. It demanded an outlet.
‘I… stop…’
‘Shut the fuck up you vile, disgusting piece of shit. Who the hell do you think you are, Floda?’ she said menacingly.
Any thoughts of her career were gone. This man had tried to treat her colleague like a piece of meat, and for what. What possible reason?
Her hand paused in the air as it itched to land once again on the face of Dale Preece. She suddenly remembered the scene in the hallway of the Preece house. The way old man Preece had called for Dale. Rejecting Bart.
The truth of the situation flew into her mind like a bullet. The disgust and disrespect from Robson Preece to his youngest grandson. The idle reference to the Hunger Games. Competition and survival. The attempt to distract her with the motorbike.
‘Fuck. It’s not you,’ she said, as everything suddenly made sense. ‘You’re not Floda.’
Dale Preece began to shake his head, as she finally let him go.
‘Please, don’t hurt him, Inspector. He’s still my brother.’
ONE HUNDRED NINE
‘Who’s the fucking queer now, Granddad?’ Bart asked, triumphantly.
For once, he was in the position of power, his grandfather’s chair bound to the old fixed grate.
‘You backed the wrong son, Gramps.’
He watched the irritation flash in the cold blue eyes, just as he had all his life.
‘Oh, I forgot. You hate that, don’t you, Gramps? Wouldn’t let us call you anything like that when we were kids. Too playful, too childish. You didn’t want to be anyone’s Gramps, did you?’
The irritation turned to hatred, and that was fine with Bart. He had waited a long time for this chat with his grandfather. And the gag in his mouth prevented him from talking back.
‘But you were right, back then, Gramps. You said that competition would help us strive, make us better. And look,’ he said, pointing outside.
‘Look at what I did,’ he said, taking a step closer. ‘You think your precious Dale could have pulled this off? You think precious Dale could have reproduced what you did all those years ago with old Cowley?
‘See, I didn’t need any help, Gramps. I did it all on my own. I found the guests. I found the targets. Everything that’s going on out there is because of me, and do you want to know why?’
‘Why?’ asked a voice from the doorway.
His head shot round towards the person who was daring to try and spoil his climax, the picture that had been in his mind for years.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he snarled right at her.
ONE HUNDRED TEN
Kim took a step into the room and leaned against the door frame. She did not remove her gaze from Bart’s.
She had already seen the rifle propped up against the far wall. She knew she had to delay him until help arrived. Her only aim was to keep that gun out of play.
‘It’s over, Bart,’ she said, quietly, trying to inject calm finality into her voice. ‘There are armed police all around the building. I came in to bring you out.’
He glanced towards his grandfather whose expression was as shocked as his own.
‘But before we go out, tell us both why you did it, Bart. Tell us why you recreated the atrocity of your grandfather.’
She saw him glance towards the gun.
By her reckoning, they were equal distance away from it.
She had to keep his attention.
‘It wasn’t just for him, was it?’ she asked.
Every fibre of her being ached to launch across the room and beat the shit out of him, but she wanted Bart alive. She wanted to see him on the stand. She wanted to watch every day of his trial. And she wanted to see him carted off to prison to personally face every single black, Asian or gay male the facility had to offer.
‘I know why, Bart. It’s because you agree with his racist, bigoted opinions, isn’t it?’
He nodded slowly, and she saw the same coldness in both of their eyes. They were more alike than either of them knew.
‘Of course I do,’ he said, dismissively. ‘How could I not?’
Kim understood that it had been bred into him. It was an attitude, a belief that he had been spoon-fed his whole life.
‘That’s why you chose that disgusting name?’ she asked. ‘An anagram of one of the most evil men that ever lived.’
Every sentence she spoke delayed his movement towards that gun. There was no point in debating his views. They were despicable and sickening, and she would not be able to undo a lifetime of conditioning in minutes, if ever.
‘He knew what he was doing,’ Bart said, as his face took on an ugliness she had not seen before. ‘It’s about purity. They’re taking over, all of them. Don’t you see that we have to do something?’
‘And were you blackmailing the Cowleys, like he did?’ Kim asked.
They had been allowed to stay on the land, rent-free. As long as they minded the bones.
‘You shot Billy Cowley, didn’t you?’ she asked, and instantly regretted it, as he turned towards the gun.
‘And you took Fiona?’ she said, quickly, to bring his attention back. That’s why Dale didn’t see her that day. ‘She came to demand action from your family after her father was arrested.’
‘She needed shutting up, that one. She’s probably bleeding to death somewhere…’
‘She’s alive,’ Kim said. ‘We found her, Bart. And my colleague is alive too,’ she said, unable to keep the anger from her voice.
His frown deepened.
‘So, you’ve actually killed no one yet,’ she said, meaningfully. Although she had at least three counts as an accessory, the blood on his hands was currently on a latex glove.
A bitter laugh sounded from the old man in the wheelchair.
Bart turned and saw what she could see: derision, disgust and disappointment.
Kim watched the colour of his shame flood into Bart’s cheeks. Damn it. He was a failure to his grandfather all over again.
‘Fuck you,’ he snarled at the old man. ‘I’ll show you how…’
His words trailed away as he lunged for the gun.
Kim did the same thing. And missed.
He grabbed at the gun with his left hand, while pushing her away with his right.
He lifted the rifle ? and shot.
Robson Preece slumped forward in his chair.
Bart stood rooted to the spot for a second, staring at the blood bubbling from beneath his grandfather’s suit.
Kim knew this was her only opportunity.
She had played for time – and lost.
She launched forward and used her body weight to push him to the ground. He had turned slightly in her direction and landed on his side.
The rifle was still in his hands.
‘You stupid fucking…’
He tried to wrestle Kim off him, but her legs were clamped around his waist.
She grabbed for his arms to retrieve the gun, but he flailed them from her reach.