Heathen/Nemesis

He either misjudged his jump or failed to calculate the distance from the landing to the hall.

From fifteen feet he crashed to the hard floor, landing with sickening force on his left foot.

The snap of breaking bone was devastatingly loud inside the house.

The man screamed in agony as he felt uncontrollable pain shoot up his left leg.

The cuboid and navicular bones in his foot had simply disintegrated under the impact and, so huge was the force with which he fell, the left fibula had snapped, part of it impacting into the talus at the top of the foot, the other part tearing through both the flesh of his shin and also the material of his trousers. A jagged point of bone projected from the leg like an accusing finger. The man screamed again as he toppled to one side.

And now, from over the banister, Donna saw that there were two intruders, one urging the injured one to follow him out of the front door.

Donna swung the pistol round and drew a bead on the injured man who was being lifted by his companion.

Kill the fucker.

The second man looked up and saw the wild-haired woman with the gun.

He too wore a mask.

Kill them both.

He hooked one arm around the waist of his crippled companion and the two of them hurried through the front door.

Oblivious to any danger she might be in Donna raced down the stairs after them, stumbling at the bottom.

‘Stop,’ she roared, her breath coming in gasps. But she could already hear a powerful motor start up. As she reached the front door she saw a car hurtling away from the house, its tail-lights disappearing into the night.

Donna banged the floor with her free hand and crouched by the door, the cold breeze rushing past her. She sucked in a deep breath and hauled herself upright. As she turned she noticed blood on the hall floor.

Julie descended the stairs slowly, using the banister to support herself.

‘We’d better get the police,’ said Donna. ‘I’ll go over to Jackie’s and call them. One of them was hurt badly.’ She smiled thinly as she said it. She tried to slow her breathing but it was an effort.

The blood on the floor glistened beneath the bright lights.

Thirty-Four

‘It doesn’t make sense,’ said Detective Constable David Mackenzie. ‘They disable the alarm, use a glass- cutter to get in, don’t leave any prints behind and wear masks in case they’re spotted. They cover every eventuality but they don’t take anything.’ He shook his head.

Standing in the sitting-room he looked around in bewilderment.

‘Nothing’s even been broken, let alone taken. Burglars usually ransack the place. These two look as if they were being careful not to disturb things too much. As if they didn’t even want anyone to know they’d been inside.’ Again he shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it before.’ He looked at Donna, who was sitting on the edge of the sofa stroking her neck slowly. ‘You’re sure nothing was taken, Mrs Ward? I know you say you’ve checked ...’

‘Nothing was taken,’ she interrupted him.

The clock on the mantlepiece said 2.36 a.m. The police had arrived more than thirty minutes ago. Already they’d dusted for fingerprints but found none that shouldn’t have been there. Donna had called them from Jackie Quinn’s house, telling Jackie there was nothing to worry about.

Did she really believe that herself?

She’d told Mackenzie that one of the men had been injured, badly, as far as she could tell. Word had been put out to surrounding hospitals that all casualty admittances with leg injuries were to be reported.

The two women had not been able to help much by way of descriptions apart from recounting details of the horrific masks the burglars wore and that one appeared to be rather thin (the one with the broken leg).

Mackenzine had no doubt that the masks and the clothes they wore would have been discarded by now.

‘You say no shots were fired by you or the burglars, Mrs Ward?’ the policeman enquired again, checking his notepad.

‘No. You only have to check the gun for that,’ Donna said wearily.

‘And you can verify that the guns are licenced?’

‘My husband and I both held Firearms Certificates. We were members of a gun club; we shot there regularly. I’ll give you the number if you want to check it out.’

‘Just routine,’ he said, smiling. ‘Why did you have guns in the house, Mrs Ward?’

‘My husband was away from home a fair bit. He said I should have more adequate protection than a burglar alarm. It was my husband who insisted I learn to shoot.’

Mackenzie nodded.

‘Am I the one on trial, Detective Constable?’ she said irritably.

‘I have to ask these questions, Mrs Ward,’ he said apologetically. ‘I mean, this isn’t New York. It’s not every day a young woman pulls a gun on a burglar. This is new to me.’

‘I didn’t pull a gun on him,’ Donna corrected. ‘I was protecting myself and my sister. God knows what would have happened if he’d got upstairs.’

‘Would you have shot him?’ Mackenzie asked flatly.

‘My house has been broken into, my sister and I could have been in danger and all you’re concerned about is whether or not I would have shot the bastard who did it.’ She glared at him for a moment. ‘To tell you the truth, I don’t know, but I’d like to think that I could have pulled the trigger if I’d had to. But if I had, it’d be me you’d be arresting, wouldn’t it? To hell with saving my own life and my own property.’ She ran a hand through her hair.

Mackenzie lowered his gaze a moment, his voice softening.

‘Mrs Ward, do you think this break-in could have anything to do with your husband’s death?’ he asked.

‘You’re the policeman; you tell me.’

Mackenzie could only shrug.

‘It was just a thought,’ he added belatedly.

Donna was already certain there was a link.

Mackenzie looked around him. ‘I don’t think there’s anything more we can do here now. We’ll leave you in peace.’

Donna got to her feet, ready to show him out, but the DC motioned her to remain seated.

‘There is one thing, Mrs Ward. The fact that they broke in but didn’t take anything, and also that they were obviously professionals, makes me think they were looking for something specific. Something particularly valuable, perhaps. Can you think what it might be?’

Donna shook her head gently.

‘Do you think they’ll come back?’ Julie wanted to know.

‘Normally I’d say no, especially after having had a gun pointed at them. But if they were looking for something, and it’s that important to them, then it’s possible.’ He looked at both women. ‘Be careful.’

Thirty-Five

The pain was excruciating.

Howard James had felt pain before, but nothing to compare to the agony he felt from his shattered leg.

‘Get me to a fucking hospital,’ he said, frantically shaking the arm of the man who sat next to him.

Robert Crossley looked down at his companion huddled in the passenger seat of the Orion, his broken leg stretched out before him. The splintered bone was clearly visible poking through the rent in his trousers. Blood had