with me, too,’ said Cordwain as he adjusted the handcuffs. ‘I’m sure you understand. Just until we establish that you’ve no connection with this—’
Jez lunged for the pistol sticking out of his belt, but Cordwain was ready for her. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her off balance, shoving Crake down with his other hand. With his hands cuffed behind his back Crake was unable to cushion his fall, and he landed painfully on his shoulder on the stony ground.
Jez slapped and punched at Cordwain, but he was a big man, much stronger and heavier than she was.
‘As I thought,’ he said, fending her off. ‘In on it too, aren’t you?’
Jez landed a fist on his jaw, surprising him. But the surprise lasted only a moment. He backhanded her hard across the face: once, twice, three times in succession. Then he flung her away from him. She tripped headlong, flailing as she went, and cracked her forehead against the low stone wall of the pool.
The terrible sound of the impact took all the heat out of the moment. Cordwain and Crake both stared at the small woman in the pretty black dress who now lay motionless on the ground.
She didn’t get up.
‘What did you do?’ Crake cried from where he lay. He struggled to his knees.
Cordwain drew his pistol and pointed it at him. ‘You calm down.’
‘Help her!’
‘I said cool your heels!’ he snapped. He moved over towards Jez, crouched down next to her, and picked up a limp hand, pressing two fingers to her wrist. After a moment, he let it drop, pulled her head aside and checked for a pulse at her throat.
Crake knew the result by his expression. He felt a surge of unbelievable, irrational hate. ‘You son of a bitch!’ he snarled, getting to his feet. Cordwain immediately thrust his weapon towards him.
‘You saw what happened!’ Cordwain said. ‘I didn’t mean for that!’
‘You killed her! She wasn’t anything to do with us!’
Cordwain advanced on him. ‘You shut your damn mouth! I told you I could take you in dead or alive and I meant it!’
‘Well, you’d better take me dead, you bastard! Because even a Shacklemore doesn’t get to kill innocent women! And I’m going to make absolutely sure that everyone knows what you’ve done.’
‘You need to stop your talking, sir, or I will shoot you like a dog!’
But Crake was out of control. The sight of Jez, lying there, had freed something inside him. It unleashed all the rage, the guilt, the horror that he kept penned uneasily within. He saw his niece, still and lifeless, her white nightdress soaked in red, her small body violated by vicious wounds. He saw the bloodied letter knife in his hand.
That was the day he began to run, and he hadn’t stopped since.
‘Why don’t you shoot?’ he shouted. ‘Why don’t you? Save me the show trial! Pull the trigger!’
Cordwain backed off, his gun raised. He was unsure how to deal with the red-faced, spittle-flecked maniac who was stumbling towards him, his hands cuffed behind his back.
‘You stay back, sir!’
