7:15 AM
CRAIG opened the side door of the garage and peeped out. Three windows were lit in the gable end of the house, but the curtains were drawn1, so no casual observer could see him.
He glanced back to where Sophie sat. He had turned out the lights in the garage, but he knew she was in the front passenger seat of Luke's Ford2, her pink anorak pulled close around her against the cold. He waved in her direction, then stepped outside.
Moving as quickly as he could, lifting his feet high as he stepped in the deep snow, he went along the blind wall of the garage until he came level with the front of the house.
He was going to get the Ferrari keys. He would have to sneak3 into the lobby at the back of the kitchen and take them from the key box. Sophie had wanted to go with him, but he had persuaded her that it was more dangerous for two people than for one.
He was more frightened without her. For her sake, he had to pretend to be brave, and that had made him braver. But now he had a bad attack of nerves. As he hesitated at the corner of the house, his hands were shaking and his legs felt strangely weak. He could easily be caught by the strangers, and then he did not know what he would do. He had never been in a real fight, not since he was about eight years old. He knew boys of his own age who fought—outside a pub, usually, on a Saturday night and all of them, without exception, were stupid. The three strangers in the kitchen were none of them much bigger than Craig, but all the same he was frightened of them. It seemed to him that they would know what to do in a fight, and he had no idea. Anyway, they had guns. They might shoot him. How much would that hurt?
He looked along the front of the house. He was going to have to pass the windows of the living room and the dining room, where the curtains were not drawn. The snowfall was not as thick as before, and he could easily be seen by someone glancing out.
He forced himself to move forward.
He stopped at the first window and looked into the living room. Fairy lights flashed on the Christmas tree, dimly outlining the familiar couches and tables, the television set, and four oversize children's stockings on the floor in front of the fireplace, stuffed with boxes and packages.
There was no one in the room.
He walked on. The snow seemed deeper here, blown into a drift by the wind off the sea. Wading6 through it was surprisingly tiring. He almost felt like lying down. He realized he had been without sleep for twenty-four hours. He shook himself and pressed on. Passing the front door, he half-expected that it would suddenly fly open, and the Londoner in the pink sweater would leap out and grab him. But nothing happened.
As he drew level with the dark dining-room windows, he was startled by a soft bark. For a moment his heart seemed to bang against his chest, then he realized it was only Nellie. They must have shut her in there. The dog recognized Craig's silhouette7 and gave a low let-me-out-of-here whine8. "Quiet, Nellie, for God's sake," he murmured. He doubted whether the dog could hear him, but she fell silent anyway.
He passed the parked cars, Miranda's Toyota Previa and Hugo's Mercedes-Benz station wagon9. Their sides as well as their tops were all white, so that they looked as if they might be snow all the way through, snow cars for snowmen. He rounded the corner of the house. There was a light in the window of the boot lobby. Cautiously, he peeped around the edge of the window frame. He could see the big walk-in cupboard where anoraks and boots were kept. There was a watercolor of Steepfall that must have been painted by Aunt Miranda, a yard brush leaning in a corner—and the steel key box, screwed to the wall.
The door from the lobby to the kitchen was closed. That was lucky.
He listened, but he could not hear anything from inside the house.
What happened when you punched someone? In the cinema they just fell down, but he was pretty sure that would not happen in real life. More important, what happened when someone punched you? How much did it hurt? What if they did it again and again? And what was it like to be shot? He had heard somewhere that the most painful thing in the world was a bullet in the stomach. He was absolutely terrified, but he forced himself to move.
He grasped the handle of the back door, turned it as gently as he could, and pushed. The door swung open and he stepped inside. The lobby was a small room, six feet long, narrowed by the brickwork of the massive old chimney and the deep cupboard beside it. The key box hung on the chimney wall. Craig reached to open it. There were twenty numbered hooks, some with single keys and some with bunches, but he instantly recognized the Ferrari keys. He grasped them and lifted, but the fob snagged on the hook. He jiggled it, fighting down panic. Then someone rattled10 the handle of the kitchen door.
Craig's heart leaped in his chest. The person was trying to open the door between the kitchen and the lobby. He or she had turned the handle, but was obviously unfamiliar11 with the house and was pushing instead of pulling. In the moment of delay, Craig stepped into the coat cupboard and closed the door behind him.
He had done it without thought, abandoning the keys. As soon as he was inside, he realized it would have been almost as quick to go out of the back door into the garden. He tried to remember whether he had closed the back door. He thought not. And had fresh snow fallen from his boots onto the floor? That would reveal that someone had been there in the last minute or so, for otherwise it would have melted. And he had left the key box open.
An observant person would see the clues and guess the truth in an instant.
He held his breath and listened.
* * *
NIGEL rattled the handle until he realized that the door opened inward, not out. He pulled it wide and looked into the boot lobby. "No good," he said. "Door and a window." He crossed the kitchen and flung open the door to the pantry. "This will do. No other doors and only one window, overlooking the courtyard. Elton, put them in here."
"It's cold in there," Olga protested. There was an air-conditioning unit in the pantry.
"Oh, stop it, you'll make me cry," Nigel said sarcastically12.
"My husband needs a doctor."
"After punching me, he's lucky he doesn't need a fucking undertaker." Nigel turned back to Elton. "Stuff something in their mouths so they can't make a noise. Quick, we may not have much time!"
Elton found a drawer full of clean tea towels. He gagged Stanley, Olga, and Hugo, who was now conscious, though dazed. Then he got the bound prisoners to their feet and pushed them into the pantry.
"Listen to me," Nigel said to Kit4. Nigel was superficially calm, planning ahead and giving orders, but he was pale, and the expression on his narrow, cynical13 face was grim. Beneath the surface, Kit saw, he was wound as tight as a guitar string. "When the police get here, you're going to the door," Nigel went on. "Speak to them nicely, look relaxed, the law-abiding citizen. Say that nothing's wrong here, and everyone in the house is still asleep except you."
Kit did not know how he was going to appear relaxed when he felt as if he were facing a firing squad14. He gripped the back of a kitchen chair to stop himself shaking. "What if they want to come in?"
"Discourage them. If they insist, bring them into the kitchen. We'll be in that little back room." He pointed15 to the boot lobby. "Just get rid of them as fast as you can."
"Toni Gallo is coming along with the police," Kit said. "She's head of security at the lab."
"Well, tell her to go away."
"She'll want to see my father."
"Say she can't."
"She may not take no for an answer—"
Nigel raised his voice. "For crying out loud, what is she going to do—knock you down and walk in over your unconscious body? Just tell her to fuck off."
"All right," Kit said. "But we need to keep my sister Miranda quiet. She's hiding in the attic16."
"Attic? Where?"
"Directly above this room. Look inside the first cupboard in the dressing17 room. Behind the suits is a low door leading into the roof space."
Nigel did not ask how Kit knew Miranda was there. He looked at Daisy. "Take care of it."
* * *
MIRANDA saw her brother speaking to Nigel and heard his words as he betrayed her.
She crossed the attic in a moment and crawled through the door into Daddy's suit cupboard. She was panting hard, her heart was racing18, and she felt flushed, but she was not in a panic, not yet. She jumped out of the cupboard into the dressing room.
She had heard Kit say the police were coming and, for a joyful19 moment, she had thought they were saved. All she had to do was sit tight until men in blue uniforms walked in through the front door and arrested the thieves. Then she had listened with horror as Nigel rapidly devised a way of getting rid of the police. What was she to do if the police seemed about to leave without arresting anyone? She had decided20 she would open a bedroom window and start screaming.
Now Kit had spoiled that plan.
She was terrified of meeting Daisy again, but she held on to her reason, just.
She could hide in Kit's bedroom, on the other side of the landing, while Daisy searched the attic. That would not fool Daisy for more than a few seconds, but it might give Miranda just long enough to open a window and yell for help.
She ran through the bedroom. As she put her hand on the doorknob, she heard heavy boots on the stairs. She was too late.
The door flew open. Miranda hid behind it. Daisy stormed through the bedroom and into the dressing room without looking back.
Miranda slipped out of the door. She crossed the landing and stepped into Kit's room. She ran to the window and pulled back the curtains, hoping to see police cars with flashing lights.
There was no one outside.
She peered in the direction of the lane. It was getting light, and she could see the trees laden21 with snow at the edge of the wood, but no cars. She almost despaired. Daisy would take only a few seconds to look around the attic and make sure no one was there. Then she would check the rest of the upstairs rooms. Miranda needed more time. How far away could the police be?
Was there any way she could shut Daisy in the attic?
She did not give herself a second to worry about risks. She ran back to her father's room. She could see the door of the suit cupboard standing22 open. Daisy must be in the attic right now, staring around with those bruised-looking eyes, wondering if there were any hiding places big enough to conceal23 a grown woman, somewhat overweight.
Without forethought, Miranda closed the cupboard door.
There was no lock, but it was made of solid wood. If she could jam it shut, Daisy would have trouble busting24 it open, especially as she would have little room to maneuver25 inside the cupboard.
There was a narrow gap at the bottom of the door. If she could wedge something into it, the door would stick, at least for a few seconds. What could she use? She needed a piece of wood, or cardboard, or even a sheaf of paper. She pulled open her father's bedside drawer and found a volume of Proust.
She started ripping pages out.
* * *
KIT heard the dog bark in the next room.
It was a loud, aggressive bark, the kind she gave when a stranger was at the door. Someone was coming. Kit pushed through the swing door that led to the dining room. The dog was standing with her forepaws on the windowsill.
Kit went to the window. The snow had eased to a light scatter26 of flakes27. He looked toward the woods and saw, emerging from the trees, a big truck with a flashing orange light on top and a snowplow blade in front.
"They're here!" he called out.
Nigel came in. The dog growled28, and Kit said, "Shut up." Nellie retreated to a corner. Nigel flattened29 himself against the wall beside the window and peered out.
The snowplow cleared a path eight or ten feet wide. It passed the front door and came as close as it could to the parked cars. At the last moment it turned, sweeping30 away the snow in front of Hugo's Mercedes and Miranda's Previa. Then it reversed to the garage block, turned off the drive, and cleared a swath of the concrete apron31 in front of the garage doors. As it did so, a light-colored Jaguar32 S-type came past it, using the track it had made in the snow, and pulled up at the front door.
A figure got out of the car: a tall, slim woman with bobbed hair, wearing a leather flying jacket with a sheepskin lining5. In the reflected light from the headlamps, Kit recognized Toni Gallo.
"Get rid of her," said Nigel.
"What's happened to Daisy? She's taking a long time—"
"She'll deal with your sister."
"She'd better."
"I trust Daisy more than I trust you. Now go to the door." Nigel retreated into the boot lobby with Elton.
Kit went to the front door and opened it.
Toni was helping33 someone out of the back of the car. Kit frowned. It was an old lady in a long wool coat and a fur hat. He said aloud, "What the hell. . . ?"
Toni took the old lady's arm and they turned around. Toni's face darkened with disappointment when she saw who had come to the door. "Hello, Kit," she said. She walked the old woman toward the house.
Kit said, "What do you want?"
"I've come to see your father. There's an emergency at the laboratory."
"Daddy's asleep."
"He'll want to wake up for this, trust me."
"Who's the old woman?"
"This lady is my mother, Mrs. Kathleen Gallo."
"And I'm not an old woman," said the old woman. "I'm seventy-one, and as fit as a butcher's dog, so mind your manners."
"All right, Mother, he didn't mean to be rude."
Kit ignored that. "What's she doing here?"
"I'll explain to your father."
The snowplow had turned around in front of the garage, and now it returned along the track it had cleared, heading back through the woods toward the main road. The Jaguar followed.
Kit felt panicked. What should he do? The cars were leaving, but Toni was still here.
The Jaguar stopped suddenly. Kit hoped the driver had not seen something suspicious. The car reversed back to the house. The driver's door opened, and a small bundle fell out into the snow. It looked, Kit thought, almost like a puppy.
The door slammed, and the car pulled away.
Toni went back and picked up the bundle. It was a puppy, a black-and-white English sheepdog about eight weeks old.
Kit was bewildered, but he decided not to ask questions. "You can't come in," he said to Toni.
"Don't be stupid," she replied. "This is not your house, it's your father's, and he'll want to see me." She continued walking slowly toward him with her mother on one arm and the puppy cradled in the other.
Kit was stymied34. He had expected Toni to be in her own car, and his plan had been to tell her she should come back later. For a moment, he considered running after the Jaguar and telling the driver to come back. But the driver would surely ask why. And the police in the snowplow might ask what the fuss was about. It was too dangerous. Kit did nothing.
Toni stood in front of Kit, who was blocking the doorway35. "Is something wrong?" she said.
He was stuck, he realized. If he persisted in trying to obey Nigel's orders, he might bring the police back. Toni on her own was more manageable. "You'd better come in," he said.
"Thanks. By the way, the puppy's name is Osborne." Toni and her mother stepped into the hall. "Do you need the bathroom, Mother?" Toni asked. "It's just here."
Kit watched the lights of the snowplow and the Jaguar disappear into the woods. He relaxed slightly. He was saddled with Toni, but he had got rid of the police. He closed the front door.
There was a loud bang from upstairs, like a hammer hitting a wall.
"What the heck was that?" said Toni.
* * *
MIRANDA had taken a thick sheaf of pages from the book and folded them into a wedge which she had shoved into the gap under the cupboard door. That would not hold Daisy for long. She needed a more solid barrier. Beside the bed was an antique commode chest used as a bedside table. With a huge effort, she dragged the heavy mahogany chest across the carpet, tilted36 it at a forty-five-degree angle, and jammed it against the door. Almost immediately, she heard Daisy pushing at the other side of the door. When pushing failed, she banged.
Miranda guessed Daisy was lying with her head in the attic and her feet in the cupboard, kicking the door with the soles of her boots. The door shuddered37 but did not fly open. However, Daisy was tough, and she would find a way. Nevertheless, Miranda had won a few precious seconds.
She flew to the window. To her dismay, she saw two vehicles—a truck and a sedan—driving away from the house. "Oh, no!" she said aloud. The vehicles were already too far for the people inside them to hear her scream. Was she too late? She ran out of the bedroom.
She stopped at the top of the stairs. Down in the hall, there was an old woman she had never seen before, going into the bathroom.
What was happening?
Next she recognized Toni Gallo, taking off a flying jacket and hanging it on the hat stand.
A small black-and-white puppy was sniffing38 the umbrellas.
Kit came into view. There was another bang from the dressing room, and Kit said to Toni, "The children must be awake."
Miranda was bewildered. How could this be? Kit was acting39 as if there was nothing wrong . . .
He must be fooling Toni, Miranda realized. He was hoping to make her think that all was well. Then he would either persuade her to leave, or overpower her and tie her up with the others.
Meanwhile, the police were driving away.
Toni closed the bathroom door on her mother. No one had yet noticed Miranda.
Kit said to Toni, "You'd better come into the kitchen."
That was where they would jump her, Miranda guessed. Nigel and Elton would be waiting, and they would take her by surprise.
There was a crash from within the bedroom: Daisy had broken out of the cupboard.
Miranda acted without thinking. "Toni!" she screamed.
Toni looked up the stairs and saw her.
Kit said, "Shit, no—"
Miranda yelled, "The thieves, they're here, they've tied Daddy up, they've got guns—"
Daisy burst out of the bedroom and crashed into Miranda, sending her tumbling down the stairs.
收听单词发音 |
1
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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3
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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7
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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8
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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12
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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13
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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14
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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15
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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16
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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17
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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18
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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19
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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23
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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24
busting
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| 打破，打碎( bust的现在分词 )； 突击搜查（或搜捕）； （使）降级，降低军阶 | |
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25
maneuver
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| n.策略[pl.]演习；v.(巧妙)控制；用策略 | |
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26
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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27
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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28
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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29
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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30
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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32
jaguar
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| n.美洲虎 | |
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33
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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34
stymied
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| n.被侵袭的v.妨碍，阻挠( stymie的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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36
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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38
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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39
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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