Gideon was standing immediately behind Lenore, and he caught hold of her in an effort to support her as she swayed on her feet. He held her close, staring down at his sister and sister-in-law; he was horror-struck.
His face was ashen. All of his strength ebbed away; he thought his legs were going to buckle under him. There was blood everywhere. It was ghastly, horrendous. Surely they were dead. Oh, God, he hoped not. His heart was thundering in his chest, and he could hardly breathe. “Can you stand up on your own, Lenore?” he managed at last.
“My legs are a bit wobbly; I’ll be okay. It’s the shock….”
“I know, I know. Lean against the door.” Swallowing hard, Gideon moved nearer Chloe, knelt down, and took hold of his sister’s wrist. “There’s a pulse. Thank God she’s alive,” he gasped in a choked voice. “She has a head wound. All this blood. It looks bad.”
“Don’t move her,” Lenore exclaimed, staring across at him. “That’s the worst thing you could do…. I just know you shouldn’t move either of them, in case you injure them further.” Lenore closed her eyes and gripped the door frame. Tears leaked out from under her lids. Then, pulling herself together instantly, knowing there was no time to waste, she snapped her eyes open and went to the stove. She turned off the flame and stopped the tap running in the sink.
Gideon was shaking inside as he knelt down and felt Tamara’s wrist, seeking her pulse. “She’s also alive. Thank God for that. I must phone for an ambulance, get help at once, Lenore. Time’s of the essence.”
Moving a bit unsteadily across the floor, but also getting a proper grip on himself, Gideon leaned against the counter, reached for the phone, and dialed 999. Endeavoring to control his voice, he swiftly gave the emergency service operator all the necessary details, and then hung up.
“Ambulances, paramedics, and the police will be here as quickly as possible,” he said, looking at Lenore. Her face was drained of all color, but she seemed steadier now. “I’m going to call my mother,” he added.
Joining him at the counter, Lenore took hold of his arm. “Don’t you want to wait until help gets here? Hear what they have to say?”
He shook his head. “I think I’d better call Ma in New York immediately. We need her here, and she should be here for Chloe and Tamara.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Lenore bit her lip, glanced quickly at the two injured women on the floor, and said to Gideon softly, “Who would do this…this terrible thing, Gid?” Before he could answer, she murmured, “It was obviously that man. Who is he?”
“I’ve no idea. But he’s dead, that I can tell you.”
“Can I get you anything?” Lenore asked, touching his arm again, aware of the strain and tension in him.
“No, thanks.” He pulled a chair up to the counter and sat down. He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eleven, nearly six in New York. Yes, I am going to call my mother now.” As he spoke, he lifted the receiver, then put it back in the cradle. “Lenore, please keep an eye open for Nigel. He should be back any minute now, and I don’t want him walking in on this…especially with the children.”
“God, you’re right!” She moved to the window overlooking the circular drive. “When he does get here, I’d better take the children and Agnes over to Lindenhill, get them out of the way.”
“Yes, that would be best,” he agreed, and lifted the phone once more. He dialed his mother in New York, steeling himself to break the news to her.
When she answered, he said in the steadiest voice he could muster, “Hello, Ma, it’s Gideon.”
“Yes, I know it’s you, darling. And it’s nice to hear your voice,” Stevie replied. “You must be up at the farm. How’re things?”
He did not answer this question; instead, he asked, “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, I’ve been up since five,” she laughed. “I’m just having a cup of coffee.”
“Ma…I’ve…” He stopped abruptly. Words failed him. He swallowed. There was a silence.
“Are you there, Gideon?”
“Yes, Ma, there’s something I must tell you. There’s—”
“What is it?” she asked, interrupting, her tone rising an octave. “Something’s wrong. I can tell from your voice. What is it, Gideon?”
“Ma, you’ve got to come here today. To Yorkshire. When we hang up, you must call British Airways and book a seat on this morning’s Concorde. The eight forty-five. I’ll arrange for a private plane to meet you at Heathrow to bring you up here.”
“Gideon, for God’s sake, what is it? Tell me, please! Stop delaying the bad news. Because it is bad, I know that.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m afraid it is…. There’s been a shooting here at the farm. But they’re alive…. Chloe and Tamara are alive, Ma. I’m waiting for the ambulance.”
“Oh, my God! What happened?” she demanded.
“Ma, I don’t know. I wasn’t here.”
“Let me speak to Nigel.”
“He’s not here, Mother. He took the children and Agnes to Ripon. Shopping. Lenore and I just walked in on this, only a few minutes ago. We found Chloe and Tamara…. Nigel doesn’t know yet.”
“They are alive, aren’t they, Gideon? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? Just to keep me calmer?” she asked, her voice shaking.
He could hear the tears in her voice, and he exclaimed, “Honestly, Mother, they are alive. They are, yes.”
“Who did it?”
“I’m not sure,” he hedged, “but the police are coming. They’ll be here any minute. And Chloe and Tamara are going to make it, I just know they are.”
“Oh, God, I hope so, Gideon! Oh, my little girl. My little Chloe. And Tamara, sweet Tamara…They’ve got to make it.” Stevie took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice as she finished, “I think I’d better hang up and get moving, unless there’s anything else you want to tell me.”
“No, Ma.”
“All right. Phone your grandmother and Derek, Gideon, please. Tell them what has happened, and ask Derek to charter a private plane for me, for this evening. I’ll be on that Concorde no matter what I have to do to get on it. And please stay in touch with Derek and my mother, let them know what hospital Chloe and Tamara are in, so that I know where to come. I’ll be in touch with my mother—” Stevie’s voice broke. She was unable to say any more.
“They’ll make it, Mother,” Gideon reassured her again, praying that they would.
“Yes” was all she could say before she hung up.
Gideon’s heart went out to his mother as he replaced the receiver. He knew how much she loved Chloe, knew what Tamara meant to her.
From her stance at the window, Lenore said, “Your mother’s a very strong woman, Gid; she’ll be able to handle this, and better than most.”
“I know. I’d better phone my grandmother in London.”
“That might have to wait,” Lenore told him. “I can see Nigel’s car coming down the driveway. I think we ought to go outside to meet him, Gideon.”
Together, Lenore and Gideon walked forward to meet the Jeep as it circled the urn in the middle of the drive and came to a stop.
Alighting, Nigel glanced at the parked car and said to them, “Do we have a visitor? Who’s here?”
Gideon took hold of his brother’s arm and drew him to one side, and Lenore ran to the Jeep. She stood talking to the children through the window, preventing them from alighting.
“Nigel, something’s happened…there’s been a shooting—” Gideon began.
“Oh, my God! Not Tamara? Not Chloe?” Nigel tried to pull away, to go into the farmhouse, his eyes flaring with fear. Holding on to him tightly, Gideon said, “They’re alive. I’ve phoned for an ambulance. You must stay calm for the sake of the children.”
“Let go of me, Gideon! I want to see Tamara!” he gasped, still trying to pull away, to move toward the house.
“No! Wait a minute. Listen to me. I think Lenore should drive the children and Agnes to Lindenhill, get them out of the
way for the time being. Lenore will give them lunch, keep them busy. They can stay there with Agnes for as long as you want. There’s staff over at the house.”
Nigel stared at his brother, then his eyes flew to his children in the Jeep. Swallowing hard, he nodded. Summoning as much control as he could, he ran to them and said, “Auntie Lenore’s going to take you back to her house with Agnes, Pumpkins. For lunch. I’ve something to do…with Mummy. Okay?”
“I want to see Mummy, show her my new ball,” Arnaud said.
“See Mummy,” Natalie repeated.
“Later. Be good, both of you.” Nigel kissed them quickly, trying not to break down. He looked at the nanny, saw her bafflement. “Lady Armstrong will explain everything, Agnes. Take care of the children.”
“Yes, Mr. Jardine. You can count on me,” Agnes answered quietly, sensing trouble.
Nigel swung around and ran back toward the house.
Gideon ran after him.
Lenore called, “Phone me later, Gid.”
“I will, darling,” he shouted back without turning around.
As Nigel hurtled into the porch, Gideon caught up with him and grabbed his arm, restraining him. “Be prepared, Nigel; there’s a lot of…a lot of blood.”
Nigel nodded; his face was strained. “What the hell happened here?” he asked in a trembling voice, opened the front door, and went into the kitchen. Horror and shock at what he saw brought him to a momentary standstill, and a strangled cry escaped his throat. Then he hurried to kneel next to Tamara, taking hold of her hand. “Tamara, I’m here, darling. It’s me, Nigel. I’m here.”
Tamara was motionless. There was no response. He held her wrist, found her pulse. Lifting his eyes to Gideon, he nodded, and bringing his face close to hers, he strained to listen; he could hear her breathing. But it was shallow, faint. “She’s alive.”
Gideon was now checking on Chloe, and he also nodded. “Chloe’s holding on, too. There’s a nasty wound on her forehead. She’s been shot in the head, Nigel. It looks serious.”
“Oh, God! What happened here?” Nigel asked, noticing the dead man. He looked Tamara’s body over again, his eyes stricken. “I think Tam has a chest wound, but it’s hard to tell with all this blood.” Leaning forward, he moved a strand of silver-gilt hair away from her face. “Tam, oh, Tam, darling, please hang on, don’t die. Please fight….” His eyes filled with tears; he struggled hard to keep his composure, and all the time he clung to her hand, kneeling next to her, praying silently, praying that she would live.
“Don’t touch her; don’t move her, Nigel,” Gideon warned. “You don’t want to hurt her, and you could without knowing it.”
Nigel nodded. “What the bloody hell’s going on? Where’s that ambulance, Gideon?” he asked in a low, intense mutter, sudden anger and frustration rising to the surface.
“It should be here any minute.” Gideon looked at his watch. “It’s now eleven-thirty. I phoned emergency as soon as I got here. They said it would take about thirty-five to forty minutes. The nearest big hospital is in Harrogate.”
Gently Nigel laid Tamara’s hand on the floor and stood up. His face was white and taut, his vivid blue eyes dark with worry. He said to Gideon, “The chap next to her…I’m pretty sure that’s Dumachev, her ex-husband.”
Gideon nodded quickly. “I wondered if it was…. I guess you can’t be really sure…not even you can be.”
“Why?” Nigel said hoarsely, staring at his brother, the tears springing into his eyes once more. “Why, Gideon? Why did he do it?”
Gideon shook his head. “I don’t know….” His voice trailed off and he thought of Margot Saunders and the potential for violence he had detected in her. He shuddered. Moving away from Chloe, he went to Nigel and drew him to the other side of the kitchen table. “Sit down, Nigel; the ambulance will be here any minute.” He pressed his brother into the chair.
“I wonder what time they were…when do you think this happened, Gid?”
“I left here just after nine, a little bit after you, and I got back here with Lenore around ten-thirty, at the latest ten-forty. It must have been just before we arrived.”
“Isn’t it getting riskier by the minute?” Nigel worried aloud. “For them. They need help desperately.” He got up and went over to Tamara.
“Yes, they do. And they’re about to get it, Nigel. I can hear noises in the drive. Cars.” Gideon hurried to the front door and ran outside.
Three ambulances and three police cars were tearing down the drive. They all slowed to a stop; police jumped out of the cars at the same moment paramedics leapt out of the ambulances.
“Are the injured people inside?” one of the paramedics shouted to Gideon as he and his partner hoisted a stretcher.
“That’s right. My sister has a gunshot wound on her forehead; my sister-in-law looks as if she has chest wounds. There’s a lot of blood on her—” Gideon stopped. The paramedics had already run inside the house.
One of the policemen came up to Gideon. “Mr. Jardine?” he asked, looking him over carefully.
Gideon nodded, thrust out his hand. “Gideon Jardine. My brother Nigel is inside with his injured wife and our sister, Sergeant.” Gideon nodded to the parked car. “I think that must belong to the man who did the shooting.”
“I see. Let’s go inside, Mr. Jardine, and try to sort all this out,” the police sergeant answered. “After you, Mr. Jardine.”
25
THE BRITISH AIRWAYS CONCORDE FLIGHT FROM NEW York was a few minutes late when it landed at Heathrow just before six on Good Friday afternoon.
Stevie Jardine was the first person off the plane, the first in and out of Immigration. Since she had no luggage, only her briefcase, she went straight to the Customs Hall. Once again, because she was the first to enter, she was hurrying out into the terminal within a couple of seconds. As she emerged, her eyes scanned the crowd swiftly.
She saw her mother immediately. Blair was standing by the barrier, waiting for her, and she raised her hand in greeting. A moment later the two women were embracing.
As they pulled apart, Stevie stared at her mother worriedly, her eyes apprehensive and filled with questions.
Blair said, “She’s alive, darling; they’re both alive.”
Stevie let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God for that. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the flight over has been torturous. I’m exhausted from worry.”
“I can well imagine,” Blair murmured.
“Where’s Derek, Mother?”
“Waiting for us on the private plane. You know how it is when he’s seen in public; he tends to get mobbed. We thought it better for him to board. But let’s hurry, Stevie; the plane’s on the tarmac, ready to take us to Yorkshire. We can talk then.”
Fifteen minutes later, Derek was greeting them as they came up the steps of the plane. After hugging Stevie and telling her not to worry, he showed them their seats. They all fastened their safety belts, and once the Gulfstream IV jet was airborne, the stewardess served hot lemon tea to Stevie and Blair, and a scotch on the rocks to Derek.
“How is Chloe actually?” Stevie asked anxiously, looking from her mother to Derek when they were alone. “I’m crazy with worry.”
He said very quietly, “She’s in a coma, Stevie, and she has been since she was shot. The bullet entered her brain, you see.”
“Oh, no! Oh, my God,” Stevie cried, and brought her hand to her mouth, stifling a cry of anguish. “What are they going to do?”
“They’ve already done it,” Derek answered, putting a hand on her arm, trying to reassure her. “She had an operation on her brain this afternoon. To remove the bullet. And—”
“Were they able to take it out?” Stevie interrupted shakily. She felt as though all the strength had left her body.
“Yes, they did. It took almost three hours to do the operation. She was operated on by one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, in the world actually, Mr. Valentin Longdon. She’s in the Brotherton Wing o
f Leeds General Infirmary. The private wing. In the intensive care unit. And so is Tamara. She was shot in the chest. Several times. They’ve managed to remove the bullets, but she’s still unconscious, Stevie. Very weak. She lost a lot of blood.”
Stevie swallowed hard, and her voice was a whisper when she asked, “Are they going to make it, Derek? Are they going to live?”
“We hope so, darling; we’re praying they will.”
Blair took hold of her daughter’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s going to be all right, I know it is. Try and have faith.”
Stevie nodded, unable to speak for a few minutes. Then she murmured, “So they didn’t take them to Harrogate District Hospital.” She bit her lip. “It’s closer…but then, Leeds is such a big medical center….”
Derek nodded. “True. And in fact, they were taken to Harrogate. But the doctors there wanted Chloe to be sent to Leeds Infirmary, where there’s that crack neurosurgical unit. They wanted her to have the very best. From what I understand from Gideon, they decided to send Tamara to Leeds as well, because of the seriousness of her wounds. They were helicoptered from Harrogate to Leeds, and were in the operating theaters by two o’clock this afternoon. It was all handled very speedily, Stevie.”
“I know Leeds General Infirmary is a good hospital,” she acknowledged.
“And don’t forget, it’s one of the finest teaching hospitals in Europe, in the world. Bar none. So is St. James’s hospital nearby. The Leeds medical complex is world renowned, so rest easy about their care, darling. They’re getting the best, and every facility is available.”
“I will try, Derek, but it’s hard. I just can’t help worrying—” She stopped, her voice breaking. Fumbling for her handkerchief, she blew her nose, tried to stem the tears that suddenly blinded her.
There was a small silence among them.
Eventually, clearing her throat several times, Stevie went on. “What about Tamara’s parents? Did someone manage to contact them? I know they were supposed to go on a cruise this Easter. To the Far East and China, I think.”
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