I was playing for time. “He had his racket there in the office. As if he’d just picked it up from the club and bought a couple of cans of balls, the good kind.”

Bonnet shrugged. “The good kind are worth the extra expense.”

I said, “One thing I don’t get. Why did you go to see the Woodcutter and take the risk? Why not just use the burner phones and keep the communications safe?”

Bonnet said, “It was getting messy. Sometimes you need to have a face to face conversation.” Bonnet turned to Nazari. “It isn’t too late for you to join us. This guy’s dead within the next minute or two.”

I said, “Actually it’s the other way around. You’ll be dead in ten seconds.”

Bonnet laughed abruptly. “How’s that, Keeler, I’ve got the weapon, it’s loaded. Full metal jacket.”

“Five seconds.”

Even though he held the gun, I could see the confidence waning. He’d become pale. A sweat had broken out under his perfect hairline.

“Three seconds.”

Bonnet said, “What? Three seconds for what?”

Behind him, through the window, Daniel was mouthing the count. He had the big Chapuis double barrel up. Two, one, I dropped to the floor. Both barrels fired. I was thinking, 32-gram load of No 5 shot. That’s an average of about a hundred and seventy pellets per cartridge. Daniel fired two cartridges simultaneously. The spread was tight and flat. Bonnet’s head separated from his body, but both fell in a pile where he had been standing.

I lay curled up on the floor, peppered with tiny pieces of window and Bonnet. I was painted with blood, as if I’d stepped into a custom spray shop. Daniel stepped through the window with his gun. I picked myself off the floor and wiped my eyes carefully with a sleeve.

I nodded to him in approval. “Okay, the gun works.”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Nazari wasn’t happy, but I figured it was best if she and Daniel stayed up in the house as a rear guard. We had no way of knowing if there was a plan to come back at us. I doubted it, which wasn’t any kind of a guarantee. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Miriam and I loaded up. We each slung an H&K over tactical vests crammed with ammo. Not that there was an endless supply. We had two extra magazines each. I had one of the M9s with spare rounds in a pocket, the roll of duct tape, and a flashlight. The sledgehammer went over my shoulder. Good to go.