The Divided Child (63 page)

           
Not
even that, apparently.
 
Suddenly,
out of the stillness, came the sound of a car's engine, and even from a
distance I recognized the brown and battered Renault Geoffrey had brought from
Italy turning down the drive.

Chapter Thirty-Three

           
"
Dammit,
where's the boy?
" Robert demanded as he peered angrily through the
small, black binoculars slung around his neck.
 
"Geoffrey's getting out of the car, but there's no one
with him!"

           
The
words sent a spark of hope tingling through my chest.
 
Perhaps Geoffrey had heeded my warning after all?
 
I said lightly, "I told you he
wouldn’t risk Michael's safety."

           
Robert
swore and seizing my arm, wrenched me to my feet.
 
"Demetra's bringing him up.
 
We'll see how he feels about seeing you splattered all over
those rocks below."
 
He
dragged me toward the path leading down to the cliffs and shoved me forward so
that I almost lost my footing and fell.

           
We
reached the bottom of the path just as Demetra and Geoffrey emerged from the
thicket of pines.
 
Seeing us,
Geoffrey started forward, but Robert pulled me against him and lifted the small
revolver to my head.

           
"That's
close enough, I think!" he yelled.

           
Geoffrey
stopped dead.
 
"Let her go,
Robert!
 
She's nothing to you.
 
It's me you want -- and Michael.
 
There's nothing to be gained by hurting
her."

           
"On
the contrary, old chum, it would give me the greatest pleasure to hurt
her!
 
The little bitch has caused
me a great deal of unnecessary trouble, and I'm sorely tempted to chuck her
over the edge right now, as your arrival here without my dear ward has left me
in a very foul mood indeed."

           
"If
I turn Michael over to you, you'll let her go?"

           
"Yes,"
Robert replied.
 
I started to protest,
but he clamped a iron hand over my mouth.
 
"One more peep from you," he whispered in my ear, "and
I'll shoot him where he stands.
 
Understood?"
 
I
nodded.
 
Raising his voice, he
called out, "You have my word, Geoffrey.
 
Now where is he?"

           
"Behind
you."

           
Robert
spun round, and I with him, but the only thing behind us was a cliff.
 
"I'm in no mood for games,"
he snarled.

           
"It's
no game.
 
Michael is behind you --
down below, on the beach.
 
If you
look, you should be able to see him."

           
Dragging
me with him, Robert moved to the edge of the cliff and looked over.
 
A small figure gazed up at us and
waved.
 
I wanted to yell to him to
run and hide, but Robert’s hand was still clamped hard across my mouth.

           
"If
this is some sort of trick --"

           
"No
trick,” Geoffrey said.
 
“I simply
had to make sure Christine was safe first."

           
"And
how did he get down there?" Robert demanded.

           
"Swam,
of course.
 
He's a good little
swimmer.
 
He swam over from the
neighboring cove."

           
"I
see."
 
Robert’s lips curled
into a rather nasty smile.
 
"Well, since you've been so obliging as to bring the boy, I suppose
it's time I kept my end of the bargain."
 
He hurled me forwards with a force that sent me sprawling at
Geoffrey's feet.

           
Geoffrey
leaned down to help me up, keeping his eyes on Robert’s face.
 
"So she's free to go?"

           
Robert
shook his head and pointed the gun at us.
 
"I'm afraid she knows far too much for that.
 
As do you."

           
Geoffrey
pushed me behind him.
 
Demetra
called out in panic, "You cannot mean to kill them?"

           
"Why
not?
 
They're no longer of any use
to me."

           
Geoffrey's
voice lashed out like a whip, "There I beg to differ,
old chum
.
 
You'll never get your hands on Michael
without us, so if that matters to you, you'd better keep us very much
alive."

           
Robert’s
eyes narrowed.
 
"You must be
joking!
 
I'm perfectly capable of
handling one small child on my own."

           
"Are
you?
 
Why don't you take another
look?"

           
Scowling
now, Robert turned to peer back down at the beach and without warning, Demetra
launched herself at his gun hand.
 
Robert spun back around and slammed the gun savagely down on her head;
she crumpled to the ground at his feet.

           
I
started to run forward, but Geoffrey grabbed me and pulled me back. "No,
Christine!
 
There's nothing you can
do."

           
Panting,
Robert looked up from Demetra's still form.
 
"
Where is he, Geoffrey?
"

           
"You're
probably not aware of it, but at the end of the beach, right under these cliffs
is the entrance to a cave that runs quite far back, all the way past the
highway, in fact.
 
Michael is in
that cave, and your only hope of getting him out of it, without him
disappearing out the other end, is for me to convince him that the danger's
past, that Christine's safe, and that it's perfectly all right for him to come
out."

           
Robert
regarded him suspiciously.
 
"And you'd be willing to do that?"

           
He
replied coolly, "For a price."

           
"
Geoffrey,
no!
"

           
Both
men ignored me.
 
"What
price?"

           
"Christine
and I walk away from this alive."

           
"Done."

           
"Geoffrey,
you can't!
 
You can't turn Michael
over to him!"

           
"I'm
sorry, Christine,” Geoffrey said, “but it's our only chance."

           
"But
he doesn't mean it!” I insisted.
 
“He'll break his word like he did before!"

           
"The
lady does have a point, Robert.
 
I
need some assurance of your good intentions."

           
Robert
said warily, "What assurance?"

           
"Empty
all the bullets out of your gun but one."

           
"You
must be joking."

           
"Do
it, or the deal's off.
 
One bullet
should be sufficient for you to maintain control, but this way, if you break
your word, at least one of us will have a sporting chance to get away."

           
"Oh,
very well."
 
Robert stepped
back warily, doubling the distance between himself and Geoffrey, then began
quickly emptying bullets out of the chamber.
 
He snapped it shut.

           
"Hold
out the bullets so we can count them."

           
Robert
held out his hand.
 
There were five
bullets in it.
 
Geoffrey
nodded.
 
"All right, now toss
them over the cliff."

           
Jaw
clenched, Robert did as he was told.
 
"All right, I've fulfilled my part of the bargain.
 
Now fulfill yours."

           
Desperate,
I grabbed Geoffrey's arm.
 
"You can't do this!
 
Michael's your son!
 
You
can't sacrifice him this way!"

           
"I'll
do whatever I must to get us out of this alive," he replied coldly.
 
Then he added under his breath,
"Please, Christine, trust me."

           
"Geoffrey,
I'm losing patience!" Robert called out.

           
"You'd
best let me untie Christine's hands.
 
Otherwise it might seem a bit suspicious when I tell Michael she's been
freed."

           
"Oh,
very well, get on with it."

           
Geoffrey's
nimble fingers quickly managed to loose the knots in the thin white rope which
had bound me for so long, and soon I was rubbing at my sore and slightly
bloodied wrists in relief.
 
"Thank you," I murmured gratefully.

           
Something
constricted in his face and briefly he lifted my wrists to his lips and kissed
them.
 
Then he turned abruptly and
in a harsh voice said, "All right, Robert, we're ready.
 
Let's get this bloody business over
with."

           
We
made our way down to the beach single file.
 
Geoffrey led the way, with me following, and Robert bringing
up the rear, his gun pressed firmly into my back.
 
I found myself wondering about the gun, and about his
surprising willingness to empty out its bullets.
 
I knew he had no intention of leaving us alive, so why had
he agreed to Geoffrey's stipulation?
 
Unless . . .
 
A horrible
suspicion filled my mind.
 
What if
the bullets he'd held out in his hand hadn't come from the gun at all, but from
his pocket?

           
I
stared at Geoffrey's tense back and wondered what to do.
 
If I was right, I had to warn him;
presumably whatever plan he had depended on there being only one bullet in
Robert's gun.
 
But what if I was
wrong?
 
In trying to warn Geoffrey,
I might ruin our only chance for escape -- and Michael's.

           
With
a resigned sort of fatalism, I decided to wait and see.
 
With luck, perhaps I'd be able to guess
what Geoffrey's plan was before he put it into action.

           
The
azure sea lapped lazily against the smooth, grey stones and from somewhere down
the shore came the plaintive call of a sea bird.
 
"All right, Geoffrey," Robert called, "which
way?"

           
Geoffrey
jerked his head to the left.
 
"Down there."

           
I
followed his gesture, searching for some sign of the cave.
 
Near the end of the beach, where the
cliffs jutted out and formed the mouth of the cove, I could make out a small,
ragged shadow at their base.
 
"There?"

           
Geoffrey's
voice seemed stripped of all emotion.
 
"Yes."

           
"Very
well," Robert said.
 
"We're almost in view then.
 
We'd best begin our little pantomime.
 
Geoffrey, you continue ahead.
 
Christine, you're going to walk next to me and smile so we look
like a couple of old friends."
 
He pulled me close to him, and pressed the gun into my side.

           
"Actually,"
Geoffrey countered, "you'll need to send Christine up ahead to the
cave.
 
I told Michael not to come
out unless she called to him, and he could see she wasn't being forced to do
so."
 
He fell back alongside
us and pushed me up ahead.
 
"Don't worry, Robert, I can serve as hostage as well as she can."

           
Robert
wasn't pleased by the switch.
 
He
made a great show of jamming the gun into Geoffrey's side, and said
angrily,
 
"The little bitch
had better do exactly as she's told, or I'm going to put a very large hole in
you."

           
"Being
rather dramatic, aren't we?" Geoffrey said drily.
 
"Never fear, she'll do as you
wish.
 
Won't you, Christine?"

           
I
nodded silently, disliking the switch almost as much as Robert had.
 
With a gun pressed into my back, I
hadn't had to make the hard choices; now I was faced with choosing between
Michael's life or Geoffrey's.

           
How,
in heaven's name, was I to choose?

           
We
walked silently down the beach, and as we drew closer to the cliffs, the ragged
shadow became larger and more clearly defined as the entrance to a cave.
 
But it was too dark to see inside, and
impossible to tell if a little boy was hiding there.