by Jack Higgins
But not before she had heard the bearded man shouting at several of his gunmen to get up to the gallery. Did they know the way round to the maths corridor? Didn’t matter, Jade realised as she heard the sounds from below – they were climbing up the supporting pillars under the gallery. Coming after her.
She dashed through the storeroom, pulling piles of books over behind her – anything to slow them down. As she emerged into the corridor outside, she slammed into a figure standing in the doorway and gave a cry of surprise and fear.
“What on earth’s going on?” Mr Argent asked. “That was gunfire!”
“Oh, thank God it’s you.”
“What’s happening?”
“Men with guns. Right behind me. Come on!”
Judging from the sounds coming from the storeroom – more books and furniture being pushed aside – there wasn’t time to get back to Mr Argent’s room. Jade led the way quickly to the narrow stairs.
“What about those other boys?” Mr Argent asked quietly.
“Mike and Rupam? Have to hope we lead the gunmen away.”
“What a thing to have to hope for.”
The sound of heavy boots on the stairs echoed down to them from above.
The darkness seemed to diminish slightly as Rich’s eyes grew used to it. He could make out shapes, darker patches where there were support struts for the stage above. Soon he was confident enough to start crawling through the space, heading for the back of the stage and hoping there was a way out. Miss Whitfield hadn’t told them how you got out from the trapdoor…
The sounds from the hall were muffled. But he could make out the shouts of one of the gunmen.
“Barney’s gone after them, down the stairs. These two were hiding in a classroom up there. Say they were on detention.”
“Find a way back down here and bring them with you,” the Scotsman replied – louder and closer. “Let’s keep them all together in here.”
There was silence for a while and Rich found himself at the back wall of the stage. He felt carefully along the back and the underside, trying to find a way out – an opening or another trapdoor. But there was nothing. Dust was beginning to clog his throat and nostrils and he was terribly afraid he would have to cough.
“Right,” the leader shouted. “Pearson, you and Gray stay in here with the kids and anyone else we come across. The rest of us, let’s find what we came for and get out of here.”
Someone said something else, but Rich couldn’t hear their words, just a muffled rumble of sound.
“Ah, she’s out of it,” the Scotsman replied. “Maybe she’ll bleed to death, though the wound’s not too bad. When I aim to shoot someone in the shoulder, I damn well shoot them in the shoulder. But if we get what we came for, we won’t need her anyway. She was useful to lead us here.”
Rich had crawled all the way to the side of the stage now. He had his hand pressed against the underside as he went. Right at the edge, in the corner, he suddenly felt the boards above him give slightly. Trying not to get his hopes up, he pushed hard, and felt the stage above him move. Another trapdoor – but where did it come out? If it was in full view of the gunmen in the hall, he was in serious trouble.
A strip of dim light shone in through the widening gap as he pushed the door slowly upwards. Was it Rich’s imagination or was the light not as bright as he would have expected? After so much time under the stage in near darkness, it was difficult to tell.
As soon as the opening was big enough, Rich peered out. It was darker here because it was in shadow. He was in the wings – off to the side of the stage and out of sight of the hall.
Rich climbed out. There was a fire door at the side of the stage, with a long metal bar across it you pushed to unlatch it. Miss Whitfield had mentioned that during a performance, they kept the door open so the actors could get in and out to the classrooms they used for costume changing and make-up.
Opening the door was bound to make some noise. Rich took a deep breath, preparing to run, and pressed the opening bar. The door opened so easily it took Rich by surprise.
But not as much as the immediate loud ringing of the fire alarm.
A few minutes earlier, Jade had been running. But she didn’t see Mr Argent being able to outrun the gunman clattering down the stairs close behind them. So as they ran, she pulled off her school tie.
The bottom of the narrow staircase emerged in a corridor just off the main reception foyer outside the hall. As the walls stopped, metal banisters replaced them.
As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Jade bent down and looped her tie through one of the rails, quickly knotting it about fifteen centimetres up the metal strut. “Keep going,” she hissed at Mr Argent. “I’ll catch you up.”
“But what—”
“Just go!”
Jade doubled back into the space beside the staircase, pulling the tie across the width of the step. If the gunman was watching where he was going, he’d see the tie and he’d see Jade.
So when the alarm bell started just as the gunman rounded the last corner of the stairs, Jade almost whooped for joy.
He looked up, searching for the source of the sound. He failed to see the tie stretched across the stairs. He was still running fast, desperate to catch his prey.
His foot caught so hard on the tie that it was wrenched from Jade’s. Her palms burned from the friction.
But the gunman came off worse. He was propelled headlong from several steps up, his cry of surprise lost in the sound of the bell. There was a sickening crunch as the man crashed down. His chin bounced off the floor and blood sprayed from his nose. His gun slid away from him, but he made no move to retrieve it. No move at all.
Jade stood up. The bell died away and there was a moment’s silence. Then Mr Argent appeared from further down the corridor. He stared in disbelief at the prone body across the corridor and the splatters of blood.
“Let’s see if we can lock him up somewhere before he comes round,” Jade said.
“What happened?”
Jade stuffed her tie into her blazer pocket. “He fell for it,” she said.
It was a relief when the alarm stopped. Rich cursed himself for not realising the fire door was linked to the alarm system. But the gunmen had presumably disabled it by now. At least they didn’t know what had set it off. They might guess it was a door, but they didn’t know which one.
Rich ran quickly down the outside of the hall. He wanted to find Jade. It didn’t sound from what the chief gunman had said like there was any hope of phoning for help, and if there were fake police and other gunmen out in the grounds then escape might be difficult too. But if he could find Jade, and if together they could discover what the intruders were after…
The door into the main reception outside the hall was made of safety glass, so Rich could see into the foyer. With the lights on inside, he hoped that no one in the area would be able to see him outside, watching. Because the bearded chief of the gunmen, and another of the intruders were standing by the reception desk. They were looking at something beside it, on the wall. What was it? A picture?
It was difficult to remember what was on that wall. There were class photos and framed news clipping, sports certificates and achievement awards all round the reception area. There was even a large glass cabinet full of sports trophies and shields. But that was on the other side of the foyer. Rich went as close to the door as he dared, any closer and surely they would see him.
As he watched, the bearded man tapped on the wall – on the glass over a large picture, Rich could see now. Then the man raised the gun that was strapped over his shoulder. He turned it in a single, swift movement and smashed the butt into the glass. Then he reached in through the hole he had made and took something out – something small and square.
With a grin of satisfaction, the man showed it to his colleague and they both marched quickly away.
Rich counted to twenty after they had gone, then let himself into the foyer. He could see at o
nce what had been so interesting to the gunmen. It was a board showing photographs of all the school staff. The glass over the board was in pieces now, and there was an empty space where just one picture had been removed.
The printed name tag under the photograph was still there. It told Rich what – or rather who – the gunmen had come for.
Mr D. J. Argent – Maths & Economics
10
It was not until almost seven o’clock that John Chance got to see Ardman. When he did, the man was unrepentant and unsympathetic.
“We had to put him somewhere,” he told Chance.
“At the same school as my children?” Chance was furious. He paced up and down in front of Ardman’s desk as he spoke.
Ardman sighed. “You will recall that we agreed for Rich and Jade to go to Cleeveholme Manor because it is out of the way, not well known, quiet and safe. Where better, you said, for them to lose themselves.”
“I remember.”
“Well, the same holds true in this case, surely. I’ve used the school as a safe house, a staging point for people of all ages in the past. Not that they realise that of course. You surely cannot assume that you and your children have an exclusive right to safety and anonymity? A safe haven that not even my own superiors know anything about?” He shook his head sadly. “Never had you down as a hypocrite, John.”
“I’m not. This is different.”
“Oh? We need somewhere to hide our new friend the Banker while we make certain arrangements, and he organises some information we need. Where better than a remote, little-known private school where he can impart some of his undoubted knowledge and experience to children eager to learn from him. Including your own children.” Ardman smiled. “I’m doing them a favour, when you think about it.”
“You are doing nothing of the sort. You’ve sent them somewhere you said was safe, only you forgot to mention you’re also hiding a man there that half the world’s gangsters are looking for. Including the Tiger.”
Ardman shrugged. “But they aren’t going to find him.”
“Can you be sure of that?”
“You know as well as I do that in our business one cannot be sure of anything. So we have to plan for any and every eventuality.”
Chance considered this. “You mean, you have a contingency plan? Some way that the Banker can call for help and back-up if he needs it?”
“Of course.”
“Well, that’s something, I suppose.” Chance was calming a little. Maybe having protection nearby wasn’t a bad thing. Especially if there was anything in Ralph’s anxieties. “So, who is it?” he asked. “You got Goddard down there staying in a bed and breakfast? Or Kyle, maybe…”
“Not exactly.” Ardman shifted slightly in his chair.
Chance leaned across Ardman’s desk. “It’s me, isn’t it?” He could see from Ardman’s expression that he was right. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I was hoping not to have to,” Ardman admitted. “But since you ask… Yes, the Banker knows there is someone in the village on call if he needs them. He doesn’t know it is you, of course.”
“He does now,” Chance said. “It won’t have taken him long to work it out. How does he make contact?”
“He has the number of your mobile phone. His own mobile is linked direct to a satellite – one of our Mercury series, so it’s unjammable and fully encrypted. Any trouble, he can call you.”
“It’s that simple.”
“I like simple. Simple works. People remember simple. There is one other thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“If he does call, get to him as fast as you can. We need him, John. And if he calls, you’ll know all hell’s breaking loose.”
It was getting darker as the evening drew in, but Rich didn’t dare put the lights on. He crept across the school office to the school secretary’s desk. She kept it clear and tidy. Just in-and out-trays, a pile of large notebooks and ledgers, and the phone. A light blinked on the phone, showing there was a message. Not that Rich cared. He wasn’t here to pick up messages but to send them.
He glanced round, keenly aware that anyone out in the foyer could look in through the glass hatchway where visitors signed in and see him. But there was no one. Rich lifted the phone and reached out to dial.
Silence. There was no dialling tone. He frowned and tried putting the phone back then lifting it again. But there was still nothing. Maybe you needed to press 9 for an outside line or something. That didn’t do anything either – none of the numbers did. And Rich went cold as he remembered the bearded gunman saying they’d cut off the phones. He wasn’t kidding. Rich could see now that the flashing light on the phone was labelled ‘Line’. It was telling him there was no connection.
With Mr Argent’s help, Jade dragged the unconscious gunman to a small store cupboard where the caretaker kept cleaning equipment. They bundled him inside, then went back for his gun.
“I suppose you know how to use that?” Mr Argent asked as Jade picked it up.
“Well, point it and pull the trigger, I guess. But not really. You?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Not much use to us then, is it? We’ll find somewhere to dump it. And we need somewhere to hide while we work out what to do.”
“The staffroom is along here,” Mr Argent pointed out.
“Good idea. It’ll be comfy. And there are several doors in and out so we won’t be trapped. I hope.”
The staffroom was furnished with a sofa and several easy chairs – all of which had seen better days. Jade stuffed the machine pistol under the sofa. The room was almost completely dark, but Jade didn’t want to risk putting on the lights.
“Now what?” Mr Argent asked. He perched nervously on one of the small armchairs, rubbing his hands together.
“Good question. It would help if we knew what these people were after.”
“Ah.” Mr Argent looked away guiltily. When he looked back at Jade he seemed even more pale and nervous. “I’m afraid,” he said, “that they want me.”
Jade stared at him. “You? Why would they want you? I mean, I assumed it was something to do with Dad and maybe…” She fell silent as her brain clicked up a gear. There were lots of thoughts and ideas whizzing round in her head, but now they seemed to be dropping into place. “Why did you say you supposed I knew how to use that gun?”
Mr Argent shrugged. “I just thought you might. Knowing that your father…”
“Yes, my father.” Jade walked over to him and looked down at the little man, her hands on her hips as their eyes met. “Dad knew you, didn’t he. He told me you’re from Switzerland – how did he know that? And you knew him and what he does. You’re the Banker.”
His eyes widened behind the thick lenses of his spectacles. “You know?”
“I do now.” Jade rubbed her forehead. She felt as if her brain was going to overload. “But what are you doing here? No, no, no,” she went on before he could answer. “You’re in hiding, aren’t you? Dad thought you’d be safe here, just like we’re safe here.”
“Don’t blame your father,” the Banker said quietly. “He knew nothing about it until last night. He got me away from Mont Passat – he saved my life, you know.”
“Yeah, well, remember that when you mark my next maths test.”
“I didn’t think I’d have to call on his help again so soon.” The Banker stood up frowning. He was patting his pockets.
“What are you looking for?” Jade asked.
“My phone.”
“Won’t work,” Jade told him. “The guy in charge said they’d jammed all the signals.”
“My phone will work,” the Banker said. “It’s linked to a special satellite. And it has a panic feature. All I need to do is press the right sequence and ask for help.”
“So where’s…” Jade remembered the call the Banker had taken earlier, up in the maths corridor. “You put it on your desk. In your classroom. After that call. I bet it’s still the
re.”
The Banker seemed to shrink in the chair. “After Eleri called. That must be how they found me – they were watching her.” In the near darkness, his face had taken on a haunted expression. “If only I knew where she was.”
“Eleri? Is she… a friend?”
“A colleague. We work together. She has been watching out for me, in case Ardman and his people tried to double-cross me. She was watching out for me in Mont Passat when I took the death run.”
“This Eleri,” said Jade slowly, with a sudden, horrible realisation, “is she tall and slim? Figure to die for and long sort of auburn hair?”
The Banker nodded. “You have seen her? You know where she is?”
Jade wasn’t sure what to say, how to tell him. She knelt down in front of his chair and took hold of his hands, surprised at how cold they felt. “She’s in the hall. But…”
“But what?”
“I think she’s been shot.”
The Banker snatched his hands away and turned, looking into the dim recesses of the room. Jade could hear him struggling to control his breathing. A single sob escaped and he wiped his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Jade said. “I guess she’s a friend as well as a colleague, right?”
His voice was so quiet Jade could barely hear him. “Eleri is my daughter,” he said. “I must go to her.” The Banker stood up and started for the door.
Jade quickly grabbed him. “That’ll do no good. You’ll never get there.”
“I have to try!”
They both froze at the sound of footsteps from outside.
On the other side of the room, the door burst open. Standing silhouetted against the harsh light from the corridor was a man holding a machine pistol.
11
Jade froze. Nothing moved – the Banker was still and the gunman in the doorway made no move either. It took Jade a moment to realise that coming from the brightly-lit corridor he could see nothing in the darkened room.