The woman looked up her, coughed up a mouthful of crimson blood, sighed once, and then was still. Beatrix closed the distance until she was close enough to remove the pistol from the holster. She put it aside and frisked the woman. There was nothing: no phone, no form of identification, nothing that might leave any clue as to who she was.

The baby cried out again. Beatrix stood and looked down into the crib. The child was tiny. Beatrix was no judge, but she would have guessed that it was seven or eight months old, surely no older than that. A girl? She thought so. She had been lucky, landing on the blankets and, beneath them, a thin mattress.

She reached her hands beneath the baby’s body, so small and fragile that her fingertips touched behind its back. She lifted it out of the bed; the blanket snagged and came away from the crib, too. The baby was warm and, as she dipped her face closer, she could smell it. There was no reason for it, but she was put in mind of warm biscuits and milk.

Beatrix was buffeted by a dizzying sensation that took her completely by surprise.

The child gazed up at her. She cradled it, holding out a finger. The baby reached for it, one tiny hand fixing around it. Beatrix looked down. It was definitely a girl. She was wearing a pink suit that left her arms and legs bare. She had a head of fine blond hair, round cheeks, and arms and legs that looked like fattened sausages.

“What’s your name?”

The baby kept looking at her. She didn’t smile, but they maintained eye contact for a long moment. Beatrix felt naked, as if the little girl were able to penetrate her deceptions, mistruths and diversions to divine her true thoughts. Beatrix found it unsettling, and for that moment, she was lost. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. She looked through the window, down to the base of the valley. Shifting the child to the crook of her left arm, she raised the binoculars with her right hand and saw a black SUV that twisted and turned as it negotiated the bends that presaged the climb up to the house.

Reinforcements.

Beatrix reached for the MP5. Clutching the baby close, and with the submachine gun suspended by its strap, she turned for the door.

Part II

14

Beatrix Rose found herself kept waiting in the room outside Control’s office for the second time in a week. She had been asked to meet him for the usual debrief at three, and it was a quarter to four the last time she had checked her watch. Captain Tanner was his usual apologetic self, mouthing that he was sorry as he closed the door to the office behind him and retook his seat.

For once, Beatrix didn’t mind. She had a lot to occupy her thoughts.