Jeffrey Archer - Sons of Fortune

‘Keep repeating the message,’ barked the chief.

‘Billy, this is Senator Davenport, would you please pick up...’

A young officer came running towards the open door, ‘He’s picked up the phone, chief, but he says he’ll only speak to the senator.’

‘I’ll decide who he talks to,’ said Culver. ‘No one dictates to me.’ He disappeared through the door and almost ran back to the principal’s study.

‘This is Chief Culver. Now listen, Bates, if you imagine...’ The phone went dead. ‘Damn,’ said the chief as Fletcher walked back into the room. ‘He put the phone down on me, we’re going to have to try again.’

‘Perhaps he meant it when he said he would only speak to me.’

The chief removed his cigar again. ‘OK, but the moment you’ve calmed him down, you pass the phone over.’

Once they’d returned to the playground Fletcher spoke over the megaphone again. ‘Sorry, Billy, can you call again, and this time I’ll be on the other end of the line?’ Fletcher accompanied Don Culver back to the principal’s study to find Billy already on the speaker-phone.

‘The senator’s just walked back into the room,’ the principal assured him.

‘I’m right here, Billy, it’s Fletcher Davenport.’

‘Senator, before you say anything, I’m not budging while the chief has all those rifles trained on me. Tell them to back off if he doesn’t want a death on his hands.’

Fletcher looked at Culver, who removed his cigar once again before nodding.

‘The chief’s agreed to that,’ said Fletcher.

‘I’ll call you back when I can’t see one of them.’

‘Right,’ said the chief, ‘tell everyone to back off, except for the marksman on the north tower. There’s no way Bates could spot him.’

‘So what happens next?’ asked Fletcher.

‘We wait for the bastard to call back.’

Nat was answering a question on voluntary redundancies when his secretary came rushing into the boardroom. They all realized that it had to be urgent as Linda had never interrupted a board meeting before. Nat immediately stopped speaking when he saw the anxious look on her face.

‘There’s a gunman at Hartford Elementary...’ Nat went cold, ‘... and he’s holding Miss Hudson’s class hostage.’

‘Is Luke...’

‘Yes he is,’ she replied. ‘Luke’s last lesson on a Friday is always Miss Hudson’s art class.’

Nat rose unsteadily from his chair and walked towards the door. The rest of the board remained silent. ‘Mrs Cartwright is already on her way to the school,’ Linda added as Nat left the room. ‘She said to tell you she’ll meet you there.’

Nat nodded as he pushed open a door that led into the underground car park. ‘Stay by the phone,’ was the last thing he said to Linda as he climbed into his car. When he nosed up the ramp and out on to Main Street, he hesitated for a moment before turning left instead of his usual right.

The phone rang. The chief touched the speaker and pointed to Fletcher.

‘Are you there, senator?’

‘Sure am, Billy.’

‘Tell the chief to allow the TV crews and press inside the barrier; that way I’ll feel safer.’

‘Hey, wait a minute,’ began the chief.

‘No, you wait a minute,’ shouted Billy. ‘Or you’ll have your first body in the playground. Try explaining to the press that it only happened because you didn’t let them inside the barrier.’ The phone went dead.

‘You’d better go along with his request, chief,’ said Fletcher, ‘because it looks like he’s determined to be heard one way or the other.’

‘Let the press through,’ said Culver, nodding to one of his deputies. The sergeant quickly left the room, but it was several minutes before the phone rang again. Fletcher touched the console.

‘I’m listening, Billy.’

‘Thank you, Mr Davenport, you’re a man of your word.’

‘So what do you want now?’ barked the chief.

‘Nothing from you, chief, I prefer to go on dealing with the senator. Mr Davenport, I need you to come across and join me; that’s the only way I have a chance of getting my case heard.’

‘I can’t allow that to happen,’ said the chief.

‘I don’t believe it’s your call, chief. It’s up to the senator to decide, but I guess you’ll have to sort that out amongst yourselves. I’ll call back in two minutes.’ The phone went dead.

‘I’m happy to agree to his demand,’ said Fletcher. ‘Frankly there doesn’t seem to be a lot of choice.’

‘I don’t have the authority to stop you,’ said the chief, ‘but maybe Mrs Davenport can spell out the consequences.’

‘I don’t want you to go in there,’ said Annie. ‘You always think the best of everyone, and bullets aren’t that discriminating.’

‘I wonder how you’d feel if Lucy was one of the children trapped in there?’

Annie was about to reply when the phone rang again. ‘Are you on your way, senator, or do you need a body to help you make up your mind?’

‘No, no,’ said Fletcher, ‘I’m on my way.’ The phone went dead.

‘Now listen carefully,’ said the chief, ‘I can cover you while you’re in the open, but you’re on your own once you’re in that classroom.’ Fletcher nodded and then took Annie in his arms, holding her for several seconds.

The chief accompanied him along the corridor. ‘I’m going to phone the classroom every five minutes. If you get a chance to talk, I’ll tell you everything that’s happening our end. Whenever I ask a question, just answer yes or no. Don’t give Bates any clues as to what I’m trying to find out.’ Fletcher nodded. When they reached the door, the chief removed his cigar. ‘Let me take your jacket, senator.’ Fletcher looked surprised. ‘If you’re not concealing a gun, why give Bates any reason to believe you might be?’ Fletcher smiled as Culver held the door open for him. ‘I didn’t vote for you last time, senator, but if you get out alive, I just might consider it iae time. Sorry,’ he added, ‘just my warped sense of humour. Good luck.’

Fletcher stepped out on to the playground and began to walk slowly down the path towards the main classroom building. He could no longer spot any of the sharp-shooters, but he sensed that they weren’t far away. Although he couldn’t see the TV crews, he could hear their tense chatter as he stepped into the light of their massive arc lamps. The path that led to the classrooms couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards. To Fletcher it felt like walking a mile-long tightrope in the blazing sun.

Once he’d reached the other side of the playground he climbed the four steps to the entrance. He entered a dark, empty corridor and waited until his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. When he reached a door stencilled with the words Miss Hudson in ten different colours, he knocked quietly. The door was immediately yanked open. Fletcher stepped inside to hear the door slam behind him. When he heard the muffled sobbing, Fletcher glanced across to see a group of children huddled on the floor in one corner.

‘Sit there,’ commanded Bates, who looked as nervous as Fletcher felt. Fletcher squeezed into a desk built for a nine-year-old on the end of the front row. He looked up at the dishevelled man, whose ill-fitting jeans were torn and dirty. A paunch hung over his waistline, despite the fact that he couldn’t have been more than forty. He watched carefully as Bates crossed the room and stood behind Miss Hudson, who remained seated at her table in the front of the class. Bates held the gun in his right hand, while placing his left arm on her shoulder.

‘What’s happening out there?’ he shouted, ‘what’s the chief up to?’

‘He’s waiting to hear from me,’ said Fletcher in a quiet voice. ‘He’s going to phone in every five minutes. ‘He’s worried about the children. You’ve managed to convince everyone out there you’re a killer.’