Glass rained across the wooden floor.
The second bullet buried itself deep into the bookcase where Evelyn had been standing only a heartbeat earlier.
Alexander's shoulder struck the floor as he shielded her.
"Stay down."
His voice remained calm.
Almost too calm.
A third shot tore through the broken window.
This one came lower.
Not aimed at the room.
Aimed at anyone crawling for cover.
Alexander immediately understood.
"Two shooters."
Evelyn looked at him.
"You can tell that?"
"The first is trying to pin us."
"The second is waiting for us to move."
Another shot shattered a framed photograph hanging above the fireplace.
Splinters scattered across the carpet.
Alexander glanced towards the hallway.
"No."
He dismissed the idea instantly.
"They'll expect us to use the door."
"So what do we do?"
He looked around the apartment once.
Fast.
Methodical.
His eyes stopped on the iron fireplace poker leaning against the hearth.
He reached for it.
Then pulled the heavy curtains from their rail in one violent movement.
"What are you doing?"
"Making them impatient."
Without warning...
He hurled the bundled curtains across the room.
The cloth rose into view.
One rifle fired immediately.
The second followed a fraction of a second later.
The curtains collapsed in a cloud of torn fabric.
Alexander counted silently.
One...
Two...
Three...
"They've fired."
Before Evelyn could react, he grabbed her wrist.
"Now."
They sprinted across the room.
Instead of heading for the front door...
Alexander pulled open the narrow pantry beside the kitchen.
Evelyn stared.
"There?"
He nodded.
"There."
They slipped inside just as another round punched through the kitchen cupboard.
Alexander quietly shut the pantry door.
Darkness surrounded them.
Only their breathing filled the tiny space.
Evelyn whispered,
"Are we trapped?"
Alexander shook his head.
"No."
He knelt beside the rear wall.
His fingers searched along the timber until they found a small iron ring almost invisible beneath decades of dust.
He pulled.
A narrow wooden panel lifted.
Cold air rushed upward.
Evelyn stared in disbelief.
"A passage?"
"It was once a coal chute."
"You knew?"
"I hoped."
---
Across the street...
The younger marksman lowered his rifle.
"They disappeared."
The older man continued watching through field glasses.
"No."
"They went somewhere."
"The apartment only has one entrance."
The older man didn't answer.
His eyes moved slowly across the building's exterior.
Then...
His expression changed.
"The Victorian coal access."
The younger man frowned.
"I don't see it."
"You weren't supposed to."
The older man folded the field glasses.
"They're leaving below us."
He opened the motorcar door.
"Move."
---
The narrow chute was barely wide enough for one person.
Alexander descended first.
His boots landed softly on damp stone.
He looked up.
"You can drop."
Evelyn hesitated only a moment before lowering herself.
Alexander caught her by the arm as she landed.
The air smelled of wet brick and coal dust.
Above them...
Another gunshot echoed through the apartment.
The shooters had finally entered.
"They'll search every room."
Evelyn brushed dust from her coat.
"How did you know this was here?"
Alexander looked down the tunnel.
"I didn't."
"You just said—"
"I hoped."
He started walking.
"The oldest buildings in London often hide older exits."
She followed closely.
"You've said 'often' twice today."
"And?"
"You speak like someone who's used them."
For the first time since the shooting began...
Alexander smiled.
"A useful habit."
Still...
He never answered the question.
---
Scotland Yard...
Arthur had just finished assigning two plain-clothes officers to watch Grace Whitlock's street when the telephone rang.
The desk sergeant answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
"Inspector..."
Arthur looked up.
"The call's for you."
Arthur lifted the receiver.
"Delbury."
Static crackled across the line.
Then a frightened voice spoke.
"There has been a shooting..."
Arthur's grip tightened.
"Where?"
"...Miss Ashcombe's residence."
Arthur froze.
The caller continued.
"The neighbours reported multiple shots."
"The attackers escaped before patrol arrived."
Arthur was already reaching for his coat.
"Is she alive?"
"We don't know."
The line went dead.
Arthur turned toward Collins.
"Get the carriage."
Collins needed no further explanation.
Within seconds...
Both men were running through the corridors of Scotland Yard.
---
Beneath the apartment building...
The old coal tunnel sloped downward before joining a much wider brick passage.
Water trickled along one side.
Ancient iron pipes disappeared into darkness overhead.
Evelyn slowed.
"This isn't a coal chute anymore."
Alexander's eyes swept the tunnel.
"No."
"It became something else."
He knelt.
Touched the damp ground.
Fresh footprints.
Several pairs.
Not old.
Hours.
Perhaps less.
Someone had used the tunnel recently.
He stood immediately.
"We're leaving."
"You found something?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"They're not chasing us anymore."
Evelyn frowned.
"Isn't that good?"
Alexander looked back the way they had come.
"No."
"It's worse."
"Why?"
"Because they already know where this tunnel leads."
Before Evelyn could ask another question...
A distant metallic sound echoed through the darkness.
A gate.
Closing.
Not behind them.
Ahead.
Alexander's expression hardened.
"We're too late."
The tunnel that had just become their escape route...
Had also become someone else's trap.