I could see her thinking about it. Down on the ground, Zack had closed his eyes. He wasn’t the big, dangerous man any more. Still on her haunches beside him, Miranda said, ‘I think it’s a good idea. If Zack murdered Lewis, I want him punished, too.’
She was telling Avril that she wasn’t going to try anything.
‘Holly?’ I said.
She simply nodded and, trying to speak, made a croaking sound.
The issue, potentially, was Charles. He was in the house. Had he heard the shot? Was he in there now, calling the police? Whether he’d heard or not, Avril seemed to have forgotten about him. To her, a teenager, he was an old man. She probably thought he’d be in bed, if she thought about him at all.
‘Zack isn’t going to be able to give you the confession you want, or tell us anything, while he’s out here.’ I moved a little closer to her. ‘Look at him. He’s losing blood. It’s freezing. He’s going to lose consciousness soon. Let’s get him into the warm.’
‘Okay,’ she said, finally. ‘But if any of you tries anything … I’m a good shot. I aimed for his shoulder.’
Together with Miranda, I helped get Zack to his feet. He leaned against me; he was heavy and smelled of sweat. Holly walked beside us, with Avril to the rear, the gun trained on Zack’s back.
We reached the house and Holly unlocked the front door. The moment we entered, Watson ran out of the kitchen, tail wagging. Avril startled, instinctively pointing the gun at him.
Miranda stepped between Avril and the dog. ‘No. I’ll lock him in the kitchen. He won’t do anything to you.’
Avril nodded, her cheeks flushed. ‘Stay where I can see you.’
Miranda escorted Watson into the kitchen, told him to lie down, then came back out, closing the door behind her.
All the lights were already on, but there was no sign of Charles. He must still be in the gym. We went into the living room. Embers glowed in the fireplace– the room had not been unoccupied for long.
Miranda nodded towards the cabinet on the other side of the room. ‘The first-aid kit is in there. Are you okay for me to get it?’
‘Patrick will do it.’
I opened the cabinet and took out a green box with a white cross symbol, checking there wasn’t anything inside Miranda could use as a weapon before handing it over. There were scissors inside, but they were tiny and blunt. Miranda helped Zack take off his coat and pulled his sweater over his head, revealing his hairy torso– Avril looked disgusted– then used the scissors to cut off a section of bandage, which she wrapped over the bullet wound and beneath his armpit.
Now he had his shirt off, I could see it was only a flesh wound, that the bullet had grazed him, tearing off a chunk of skin without damaging any muscle or bone. If she had done that deliberately, she was indeed a very good shot. I was aware, though, that this meant Zack was in fact still dangerous.
After Miranda had finished bandaging Zack’s arm, she helped him put his bloodstained shirt back on. Avril gestured with the rifle and told Miranda, Holly and Zack to sit together on the largest sofa. She instructed me to take the armchair.
She pointed the gun at Zack’s heart. ‘I swear. If you move, if you do anything but talk, I will kill you. Are you going to confess to shooting my mum?’
He hesitated.
‘Do you confess?’ She yelled it, jabbing the barrel of the rifle in his direction.
‘Yes. Okay. It was me.’
Avril stared at him. Hearing this didn’t seem to bring her any relief or satisfaction.
‘I’m sorry, all right?’
I was certain she was going to shoot him. That her grief and rage would take over.
‘Don’t do it,’ I said. ‘Avril. Don’t ruin your life.’
A tear rolled down her cheek.
‘And we need him to tell us about the rest of it. We still need to find Jasmine.’
Zack shot me a look that was half angry and half grateful. Even though the wound was not deep, he still appeared to be in a lot of pain. He nodded towards the bottle of whisky that sat on the side table. ‘Can I have some of that? It would make it easier to talk.’
Avril thought about it. ‘Okay. Fine. Patrick, you do it. Don’t give him the bottle.’
