He shone the beam around wildly. Desperately hoping to see what he was looking for. The two objects he needed to stay alive. Suddenly he spotted the first one – a block of kitchen knives on a work surface close to the huge butler’s sink. He grabbed the largest knife, a thick, serrated one, and pulled it out. Then, turning round, he saw one of the large silver trays, laden with plates and wine glasses, sitting on a long wooden table.

He lifted the tray up, hurling the contents onto the floor with a deafening crash of breaking glass and crockery. ‘Apologies, Madame,’ he murmured. ‘Send me the bill.’ He switched his torch off, then went back to the doorway and, by memory, through the windowless dining room to the doorway to the hall.

Stopping in the entrance, he gripped the handle of the knife in his teeth and held the tray out like a shield with his left hand. With his right hand he shoved the suit of armour hard, sending it toppling over with a loud crash.

At the same moment, he switched on the beam again, shining it on his own face. Then he held up the tray and stepped back as two more shots rang out in quick succession, a volley of pellets pinging off the tray.

With the torch still on, knife gripped tightly in his teeth, he sprinted across the hall, ignoring the voice that was taunting him. He reached the bottom of the stairs and flashed the torch beam up at the huge stuffed stag on the first landing.

‘This is such fun, Roy!’ he heard. ‘Like shooting fish in a barrel! Or since you prefer rodents, it’s just like playing whack-a-mole! Or maybe it’s voles that are rodents, but hey, old pal, we’re not going to split hairs, are we, Roy?

‘And just imagine what fun I’m going to have with your beautiful wife and that very sexy nanny of yours after I’ve shot your head off. And I wonder how high that kid and that stupid little baby of yours will bounce when I chuck them out of the top of the tower. Who will bounce higher – the boy or the baby? How high? Four feet? Want to have a bet with me? Four feet, six feet or just three? Or no bounce at all, just splat! Oh, sorry, I forgot – you won’t be around to pay out.’

18

Roy’s brain ripped through his few options. The stairs were a big gamble, and if he got this wrong, he would be trapped. A sitting target. But right now they seemed to be his only real chance. It was a dangerous gamble. He had to make it work.