Watters looked up with his vision slowly clearing. The light was strengthening so he could distinctly see the lake now, a silver-grey gleam beyond the trees. Silver was moving forward, seemingly in slow motion, with Mercer nowhere in sight. Had he been hit? On the right, Anderson and McKeefe were advancing in long, confident strides. Anderson had his truncheon in his hand, ready to fight two gunmen with nothing more lethal than a length of wood, while McKeefe flicked his lantern light along the bank of the lake.
Watters stood up. There was no sign of the fugitives.
'Where are they?'
'One jumped in the lake,' Anderson said, 'and the other's gone to ground.'
'Who fired the shot?'
'The man who went to ground,' Silver said.
'Anderson, you help me hunt for the shooter. Silver, Mercer and
