Dublin Affairs

Extract

Two men in uniforms took Bount and led him away. They walked through narrow corridors. O’Kelly, the bald officer, came panting after them. He was obviously unhappy with the situation.
Finally, they stopped in front of an office door.
“Wait a minute,” said O’Kelly. “I want to talk to the magistrate alone first.” He knocked on the door and walked in.
Bount was able to catch a glimpse of the magistrate. She was a good-looking woman of mature age, and she didn’t seem to like having been called here at this time of night.
Bount felt the two guards loosen their grips on his upper arms. One of them sneered at Bount. The other one looked out of the window into the night.
It’s now or never, Bount thought, slamming his elbow into the face of the guard to his right so that he stumbled back and wailed. The other guard reached for his gun, but Bount was faster. He pulled him closer with his handcuffed hands and thumped his bent knee into the guard’s stomach. The guard slumped into a heap on the floor with a suppressed groan.
Bount knew he had no time to lose. He took a run and leaped through one of the low windows. Glass shattered. Bount hit the ground hard and rolled over. A second later, he struggled back to his feet, ready to dash off.
“Stop, or we’ll shoot!” he heard a man yell behind him. But, Bount didn’t stop. He ran. His legs moved automatically.
A shot whizzed by. Bount dove behind a parked patrol car, and a bullet smashed the side window. Then, lights went on everywhere. Bount got up again and continued running. Bullets flew through the night, and searchlights chased him.
Bount was in a vast inner courtyard, and apart from a few parked cars, there was not much cover. He ran into the dark and tried to keep to the side walls, while the tumult around him increased. He reached a waste container and briefly scanned the location. Rays of light ran across the asphalt. Bount ducked down and crouched next to the container.
“Come out, Reiniger! You don’t stand a chance,” called O’Kelly, who had also reached the scene. He stood there gesticulating wildly with his gun in his hand.
“He must be back there!” a man called.
“He’s trapped,” muttered O'Kelly. But, that was more or less to comfort himself; the runaway was nowhere to be seen. He had been swallowed by the night. The lights were on everywhere, so Bount had to be hiding in some corner. Perhaps he was behind the parked cars, or he had even managed to crawl into a trunk. But, he stood no chance; that was as sure as hell. The gate was secured by armed guards. And behind it was another six-foot high metal gate. This courtyard was virtually a cage, and there was no way out. O’Kelly assured himself over and over again.
“I suppose he ran to the western wing and then escaped over the fire ladder,” one of the men said to him resignedly.
“I thought you had blocked off everything over there,” scolded O’Kelly.
The man shrugged his shoulders. “Probably, we weren’t fast enough. We can’t perform miracles.”