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Our second attempt at a stealthy approach was as unsuccessful as the last. We clambered over the stone wall that surrounded the old mansion, picking a place far from the house obscured by overgrown foliage. We were just considering the next stage of our route when we heard shots being fired from the house. But only a few shots and none of them aimed at us, as far as I could tell. Instantly, we sprinted for the house, running zigzags across the damp lawn towards the kitchen door, keeping our heads low, until we reached the shelter of the doorway. The small army we were expecting was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Garrick thought that fifty Goblins would attract too much attention, even in this protected enclave. Or perhaps Garrick just didn't like company. In any case, it transpired that he had sent them away some time between his disappearance and our own arrival in Dulelm Hollows. According to the reports and descriptions I got later, I pieced together what happened on the other side of the house, more or less. The Captain and her coppers were heading for the side door, perhaps expecting that their approach would be unnoticed. It seemed they triggered some alarm, and Rigg's face appeared at one of the windows, followed shortly by breaking glass and the shots we had heard, causing Luncardy and her companions to dive for cover. There was silence for a minute or so, enough for the coppers to start peering out of their hiding-places to try and see where the shots were coming from. Then, without warning, Rigg burst out of the front door, holding a struggling Rosie bound at the wrists. He stopped just outside the door and shouted, in passable Goblin and then repeated in slightly accented English, "Stay back or I'll shoot. I mean it!" "Stay back," Luncardy repeated the instruction, "We don't want unnecessary bloodshed." Seeing the police hesitate, Rigg started making his way to the garages where a powerful car waited outside on the gravel. He must have pressed some button inside the house which opened the electrically-powered gates, the low rumble of which we could hear from our position around the back. Then we all heard the roar of a car, not Riggs. Gumshoe had ignored my instructions to stay put - as I strongly suspected he would - and driven over to Dulelm Hollows as quickly as he could. He drove his ancient Oldsmobile at high speed with headlights blazing into the hamlet, through the gates as they swung open, and screeched to a halt not thirty feet from where Rigg was holding Rosie. Obscured by darkness and smoke from the car, Gumshoe threw open the driver's door and then, rolling low, he slipped out of the door on the other side. Half a dozen bright lights let up the entire front of the old house, dazzling the big human who still held Rosie tightly. The ruse was sufficient to distract Rigg. He got off a couple of shots through the car door - bullet-holes which Gumshoe would have carefully repaired and repainted afterwards. He always was ludicrously fond of that old car. But Gumshoe was no stranger to gunfights, and he was both fast and accurate with the heavy automatic he usually lugged around with him. From his position flat on the ground, he took aim carefully and shot Rigg in the thigh. It was not a fatal wound, but one which slowed him down enough so that the human cops would easily pick him up later. Rigg cried out in pain and collapsed, blood pouring from his thigh, his gun bouncing away to one side. Rosie fell to the ground, then picked herself up and rushed over to Gumshoe. The human PI grabbed her, but he didn't take his eyes of Rigg. And just as well. Gumshoe advanced cautiously to where the other human was lying, kicked away the handgun, and knocked a second gun away that Rigg, despite his injury, was retrieving from under his coat. Gumshoe put his own automatic to Rigg's temple and fumbled for handcuffs. "Stay put, punk," the detective snarled.
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Part 94