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Monk bent, and picked up the largest stone he could find and hurled it at the gardener. He did not believe he could hit him, but he could certainly distract him long enough to give Worm a head start. Please heaven he ran back towards Monk, or sideways towards Hooper! Squeaky was out to the left, but he was an old man and unfit, used to forging papers and deceiving tax men, not physical fights.
The stone struck the bush, shaking the branches and landing heavily.
The gardener swung round, fearing attack.
Worm took to his heels, running this way and that, like an eel through river weed.
The gardener ran after him, waving the gun. His legs were far longer, his stride three of Worm’s, but the gun hampered him and he was slow at changing direction. Nevertheless, he was gaining ground. The distance between them closed.
Then suddenly the gardener hurtled through the air and crashed face down on the earth, arms thrashing, legs jerking and twisting as if tied together.
Squeaky bent and picked up the fallen gun. Holding it by the barrel, he swung it back and crashed it into the gardener’s head. The man went utterly limp, as if he were dead.
Monk sprinted down the slight incline towards them and arrived just as Squeaky patted Worm on the head. ‘Well done, boy,’ he said calmly. ‘Got yer wits about you.’
Worm’s eyes were full of tears, but he refused to cry.
Monk looked down at the gardener, at the blood on the side of his head, at his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe, and at his legs, which were loosely tied together with a length of very thin rope, one end of which was knotted around a heavy spanner.
Squeaky shrugged. ‘Pity to waste a good length o’ rope,’ he said with a very slight smile. ‘Most folk chasing don’t look so careful where they put their feet.’
‘You threw it out around him?’ Monk said incredulously. ‘Where did you learn that?’
‘Timing,’ Squeaky answered, his smile wide, showing his crooked teeth. ‘Good thing, timing.’
‘I’ll take the gun.’ Monk held out his hand and Squeaky passed it over.
Hooper appeared, glancing at the gun in Monk’s hand and the gardener on the ground. Then he saw Squeaky’s face, and Worm, who was still very pale, and worked out what must have happened. He picked up the length of rope and tested its strength. He moved to tie the man’s hands together.
‘Before you do that,’ Monk said quickly. ‘Take his jacket off. His hat’s over there. I’ll put them on and go in. Hooper, take the gun and go around the front, in case Rand tries to escape that way. Squeaky, you stand guard over the gardener, when we’ve finished tying him up. Hit him again if you have to. There’s a good strong stake in the ground over there, holding that young tree up. Lash him to that. Scuff?’
‘Yes?’ Scuff stepped forward eagerly.
‘Go and fetch the horse and wagon. Drive it down here carefully and wait. We’ll need it close by if we’ve got sick people to carry out. Squeaky’ll help you turn it around so we can go straight out, maybe in a hurry.’ He gla
nced at Hooper busy tying up the gardener, who was beginning to stir into consciousness again. ‘Don’t use more rope than you have to,’ he warned. ‘We may have more people needing it. Rand won’t come easily. Maybe Miss Radnor won’t either.’
‘Got plenty, sir,’ Hooper said cheerfully, giving the end of the rope a hard jerk to tighten the knot. That brought the gardener back to full consciousness, and he started to howl in pain.
‘Quiet!’ Hooper told him sharply.
The gardener glared at him, met his eyes, and was silent.
Hooper checked the gun to make certain it was loaded and the action smooth. Then he moved slowly towards the side of the house and the front door.
Scuff and Worm went reluctantly up the lane towards the horse and wagon.
Squeaky glared at the gardener then gave Monk a nod, almost a salute, as he moved quickly and quietly towards the back of the house and the kitchen door.
Worm had said he had seen two women in the kitchen, and he was almost sure that one of them was Hester, which meant that the other would be Adrienne Radnor. Had they become friends, or deeper enemies? What was Monk about to walk into?
One mistake now and it could still end in tragedy. If Adrienne had a kitchen knife in her hand and panicked, she might do anything.
He pulled the gardener’s cap further forward over his face. Did the gardener usually knock before he went in? Was he an ally of Rand’s? An employee? A servant? A debtor over some past help? Even a relative? Or another experiment?
He had shown a streak of violence when he had seen Worm a second time. What kind of man goes after a seven-year-old child with a loaded shotgun?
A frightened one, with something very dangerous to hide.
