The Basement Window

We locked the back door and slid the deadbolt home. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped the keys twice. Richard leaned against the counter, his breath coming in ragged gasps, blood from his face dripping onto his white shirt collar.

"We need a plan," he said, his voice thick.

"We need to clean you up," I said. "And we need to get rid of this gun."

I looked at the pistol on the table. Julian had dropped it when Richard tackled him. It was small, black, and terrifying.

"I'll take care of it," Richard said, reaching for it.

"No," I said, snatching it before he could. "You're hurt. And you're panicked. I'll hide it."

I wrapped the gun in a dish towel and shoved it deep into the back of the pantry, behind the emergency candles and the ancient cans of soup. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it would buy us time.

I turned back to Richard. He was pressing a wet paper towel to his eye.

"Is it bad?" he asked.

"You'll have a shiner," I said, examining the cut on his cheekbone. "But it's not deep. We can say you walked into a door."

"A door," he repeated, a hysterical laugh bubbling up. "My brother tries to execute my wife, and I walked into a door."

"Unless you want to explain to the police why a dead man is screaming in our garden, yes. You walked into a door."

I grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink. I cleaned the wound with alcohol, ignoring his wince.

"What did you mean?" he asked quietly. "About burying him for real?"

I paused, the cotton swab hovering over his skin.

"He's trapped," I said. "He can't get out the gate. The key broke in the lock. The walls are twelve feet high. And the house is locked down."

"He'll break a window. He'll find a way in."

"Not if we don't let him," I said. "He's wet. He's cold. He has no food. No phone. No weapon."

"So we just... wait?"

"We wait," I said. "The auditor is coming tomorrow morning. Simon said he's bringing the FBI. If Julian is found, we lose everything."

"And if he's not found?"

"Then we survive."

"But Helen... he's in the garden. If the FBI looks out the window..."

"The garden is a jungle," I said. "And the storm is getting worse. No one is going to be looking out the window."

I put a butterfly bandage on his cut.

"Go upstairs," I said. "Change your shirt. Hide the bloody one. Wash your face. Then go to bed."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to watch the cameras."

He looked at me, his eyes full of fear and a strange, dawning respect.

"You knew," he whispered. "About the well. About the gate."

"I know this house, Richard," I said. "Better than you ever did."

He nodded slowly, then turned and walked out of the kitchen.

I waited until I heard his footsteps on the stairs, then I went back to the study. I sat at the desk and opened the iPad.

*Camera 4: Rear Garden.*

The feed was grainy with rain and darkness. I scanned the image, looking for movement.

There was nothing. Just the wind-whipped trees and the swaying hydrangeas.

Then I saw it.

A shadow, moving near the Carriage House.

It was Julian.

He wasn't screaming anymore. He was prowling.

He moved to the back of the Carriage House. To the basement windows.

They were low, close to the ground. Barred with iron grates.

He knelt down in the mud. He picked up a loose brick from the garden border.

He smashed it against the mortar holding the bars in place.

*Thud.*

*Thud.*

*Thud.*

The sound was lost in the thunder, but I could see the impact. The mortar crumbled.

He worked with a manic, desperate energy. One bar came loose. Then another.

He pulled the grate away and threw it into the bushes.

He smashed the glass.

He was going back inside. Back to his lair. Back to where it was warm.

I watched as he squeezed his body through the narrow opening, disappearing into the darkness of the basement.

He was safe from the storm. But he was trapped in a cage of his own making.

And I had the only key that mattered.

I picked up the heavy iron key ring from the desk.

The key to the Carriage House basement.

I stood up.

"Sleep tight, Julian," I whispered.

I walked to the mudroom and put my coat back on.