Polar Quest

64

From behind the locked door of the master bedroom, Lafitte heard an exchange of gunfire, then silence.

‘Duroc?’ Lafitte called apprehensively.

‘I’m afraid not,’ Kilkenny replied.

Martineau sat on the side of the king-sized four-poster bed sobbing, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. Lafitte stared at her — his most brilliant scientist, his lover and trusted confidante — and felt nothing but hatred and betrayal.

‘This is your doing, Dominique! You and Duroc are responsible for this!’

‘No, Charles,’ Martineau pleaded tearfully.

Lafitte walked toward the bed. In his right hand he held a broad knife of Damascus steel. It glowed orangered in the reflected light of the burning generator building. He normally kept the blade in the safe in his closet, but he had pulled it out tonight after Duroc ordered him and Martineau upstairs. The fear in Duroc’s eyes was unmistakable. Lafitte had seen it. Now Duroc was dead.

‘How could you both have been so stupid!’ Lafitte raged. ‘You and your lover have ruined everything!’

‘Charles, I swear I didn’t know what Sumner had done.’

Lafitte stood with his face inches from hers, glowering at her. Martineau looked down to avoid his eyes.

‘You stupid whore. I gave you the chance to create the future.’

Lafitte grabbed her by the throat with his left hand and pushed her back onto the bed. Martineau’s eyes grew wide as Lafitte lifted the dagger over his head. Terrified, she wrapped her legs around his and kicked the backs of his knees with her heels. Lafitte’s legs buckled. Martineau pushed his chest as hard as she could, forcing him back. He tried to regain his faltering balance, but Martineau tightened her grip around his legs and lunged at him.

The momentum of her body carried them both away from the bed. Lafitte flinched reflexively as he fell back, Martineau riding him down, then his head struck the wooden parquet floor. Martineau grabbed the knife from Lafitte’s hand and screamed wildly as she plunged it into his chest.

The ancient blade slipped easily into Lafitte’s body, stopping only when it passed through the other side and struck the floor. She pulled the knife out and thrust it back in again and again.

‘Got any ammo left?’ Kilkenny asked softly.

Tao shook her head. ‘All out.’

Kilkenny checked the pistol he’d taken from Duroc. The last round had struck the door just inches from Kilkenny’s head. ‘Maybe we can bluff him.’

From inside the master bedroom, they heard Lafitte shouting. Then his diatribe was suddenly replaced by a banshee-like scream.

‘What the hell?’ Kilkenny whispered.

Kilkenny reached for the doorknob and found it locked. He took a half-step back and kicked the paneled door just above the knob. The oak stile split straight up the grain and the door flew open.

Splattered with Lafitte’s blood, Martineau looked up as Kilkenny entered the bedroom. She flipped the knife around in her hand, holding the blade to slash instead of stab, and lunged at him. He backed away, holding his bent arms shoulder-high, trying to keep from being sliced. Martineau closed, sweeping the blade back and forth wildly.

Martineau angled closer to the door, trying to keep Kilkenny from escaping. She was breathing hard, almost panting. Kilkenny slid along the wall, inching away from her — Martineau was herding him into the corner. She lunged again, and Kilkenny sucked in his stomach, making his body concave. The tip of Martineau’s blade drew a razor-thin line just above his navel. Blood seeped in droplets from the long cut.

As Martineau slashed again, Tao stepped through the doorway and hurled an empty pistol at her. The two-pound weapon struck the scientist squarely in the back of the head. Kilkenny grabbed her wrist and twisted. The knife fell to the floor and Kilkenny kicked it out of reach. Dazed, Martineau’s knees gave out. Kilkenny guided her fall and laid her facedown on the floor.

‘See if there’s anything in the closet we can use to restrain her,’ Kilkenny said as he held Martineau’s arms behind her back.

Tao looked over the contents of Lafitte’s neatly arranged closet. ‘There’s some Hermès silk ties.’

‘Perfect.’

Kilkenny bound Martineau’s hands and feet, checking his knots carefully before getting up. Tao picked up Lafitte’s knife, intrigued by the wavy damask pattern on the blade. In addition to the wet red smears of blood, she saw dried spots as well.

‘Nolan, this was used before. There’s old blood on it.’

Kilkenny took a closer look at the blade. ‘The Ann Arbor police didn’t find the knife used to murder Olson and Sutton — maybe this is it. Wrap it up in a towel.’

Outside, Kilkenny and Tao heard sirens approaching the château.