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“I’m afraid you underestimated us, Father, dear.” She pressed the plunger in her left hand. The clear liquid caught Summers in the face. “Pure water in mine. Looks like you chose to attack the wrong person.”
Shouts and footsteps throughout the house meant that more of Gardener’s team had arrived.
“My aunt had the syringe that will do the damage. Merry Christmas… Daddy.”
Jacqueline turned and faced Gardener with her hands outstretched, as if waiting for handcuffs.
“Jacqueline,” said Anei, standing near the stairs with Reilly, “don’t admit anything.”
“What have you given him?” Gardener asked the minister.
“Same as the others,” she replied, without remorse.
“Is there an anti
dote?”
“No.”
Gardener pushed her out of the way and bent down to Summers, whose hand still covered the syringe dangling from his neck. He was hyperventilating and perhaps going into shock.
Gardener glanced at his partner, but Reilly was already on the phone. He’d asked for an ambulance, but Gardener didn’t hold out much hope of it arriving in time, nor being able to do anything when the medics arrived.
Frank Thornton and Bob Anderson appeared in the film studio. Behind them, Colin Sharp.
Thornton asked if there was anything he could do.
“Can you take these two upstairs and keep them in the study?” Gardener asked of him, pointing to the two women.
At that moment, Summers let out an ear-piercing scream and the foul odour of blocked drains permeated the room.
Gardener turned to face Summers, knowing he wouldn’t have long now. His face had puffed up and his eyes were reddening. A stain had appeared around his genital area. The next step would be hideous, and he was most anxious not to watch it, having already seen what it did to Harry Clayton.
“You two,” shouted Gardener to Jacqueline and Anei, “I’d like you upstairs and out of the way, now.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked Sharp.
“There’s not much we can do, Colin. If you go with Frank and Bob, Sean and I will stay with Summers till the ambulance arrives.”
By the time Reilly had ushered everyone back up the stairs to the study, Gardener heard the sirens accompanying the ambulance. The vehicle pulled to a halt. Within seconds, two medics appeared and bolted down the stairs. Gardener instructed them on what he knew and headed up to the study to meet his partner.
Everyone was seated. The minister straightened in hers. For the first time, he noticed how she was dressed: in a black two-piece trouser suit with a white blouse and a lilac silk scarf around her neck – no doubt ready for a trip to the airport. The sheen on her hair reflected the overhead lights. Her expression was one of defeat. He wondered what was going through her mind.
He actually felt sorry for her. A thirteen-year-old girl against the world. Raped and defiled by a bunch of bastards. But despite the fact she had every right to see the men who had violated her punished, she had gone about it the wrong way. Having gone through the ordeal she had, it would have been hard to trust any adult. But it would have been her only hope. As a mature woman of the cloth, she should have known better. There would have been channels she could have gone through. Maybe she thought the church would protect her from what was about to happen.
Her only hope would be a sympathetic jury.
Despite every thought invading his mind, she had given him absolutely no choice. He raised his warrant card.
“Jacqueline Bâlcescu, I’m arresting you on suspicion of six murders. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
Jacqueline did not reply. She simply stood up, waiting for him to make the next move.
The expression in her eyes was paralyzing. He realized at that moment what her feelings were toward him: what she thought of him. She would probably have traded everything she had to be with him. He wondered briefly what would have happened had her feelings been reciprocated.
“Sean, take her away.”
“Stop!” shouted Anei.
