There were three other doors from the living
room. One led into the hall; a second led into a
small room at the front of the house; the third led
into the dining room, also at the back of the
house, between the living room and the kitchen.
In the front room the lights were off. The door
was open a few centimetres. Three police officers
were sitting behind the door. Inspector Logan was
standing just inside the door. She could see into
the living room. The man in the armchair was
Sergeant Grant.
Sometimes he looked up at the clock, and then he
went back to reading his paper. Logan watched
the smoke from his cigarette going up in a line.
After a few minutes the smoke stopped going up
in a line. It moved slowly around.
The house was quiet. Logan felt cold air coming
in.
Grant put the newspaper down on the floor next
to his chair. As he did this, the door behind him,
which led to the dining room, opened very quietly.
A tall man, dressed from head to foot in black,
carme through the door into the room. He had a
sort of black hat over his head and face, too. Only
his eyes showed. There was a knife in his hand.
Logan could see that Grant was ready.
Grant stood up quickly and turned round. The
man in black moved to his left. Grant moved too.
He moved away, watching the man with the knife
carefully. Logan waited.
The man in black spoke softly. 'You think you saw
me, do you?' he said. 'You think you can tell the
police who I am. Well, I'm sorry but I've got no
choice, I can't let you do that.'
The man in black ran quickly over to Grant. Logan
decided she could wait no longer.
'Now!' she shouted.
She ran into the living room. The police officers
followed her, but they were all too late. The man
in black had his arm around Grant's chest. The
knife was at Grant's throat, and a little blood was
running down Grant's neck to his shirt.
'Don't come near me or I'll kill him,' said the man
in black.
'Drop the knife. You can't get away,' said Logan
quietly. Nobody moved.
'Get away from the door or Fraser dies,' shouted
the man in black. 'Get away from the door.' Again
nobody moved.
Then Logan spoke: 'It's over Ross. That is
Sergeant Grant, not Mr Fraser. Let him go.'
The room was quiet. The knife moved a few
centimetres away from Grant's throat. Grant was
ready. His elbow moved back very hard and very
quickly into the stomach of the man behind him.
The man dropped his knife. His hands flew to his