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‘The photograph behind his desk,' he said when they pulled up. ‘It's his?'

‘And the bank's.'

‘But it's not listed in any of the assets, the business or Daniel's.'

‘It's in my name.'

Amis seemed to get angry at that. It was a loose end she supposed. Maybe he'd make more mistakes.

He took her by the arm again and aimed her at the gate. ‘So it couldn't be taken if the business collapsed. Of course.'

They walked slowly through piles of wood and bricks and empty pallets, Helen waiting for Daniel to spring out and save her.

Blyte held Helen still at the open door and peered over her shoulder. He whispered, ‘No shouting now. Even though it is a bar.' He was becoming playful, excited perhaps. He pushed her inside and they both looked. Under the stairs, in a cupboard. Behind the bar.

She put her handbag down and said, ‘Why are you doing this?'

He didn't answer. He pushed her towards the stairs. A rope was tied to a railing above them. It went all the way up into the ceiling.

‘Why?' she asked again.

He adopted a bad Kennedy accent. ‘They ask why and I ask why not?'

They started up the stairs.

Daniel saw Helen's car parked outside the gate. He had bought an iced coffee and an egg-burger, but he hoped she'd brought good food. Maybe news. He wanted to tell her he'd discovered some things inside himself that he'd try to work on.

At the top of the first flight of stairs were doors to rooms along one side of a corridor. Blyte pushed her towards the first door.

‘Why Daniel?'

He shrugged as he opened the first door and looked in. He pushed her towards the second. He said, ‘A smile? The sweep of hair over an ear. The sparkle in the eye during an unguarded moment. A chance meeting – blossomed into so much more.'

He was mad. He was half-playing at being a James Bond villain with all the funny lines. Or was it Hannibal Lecter? But not all play.

He was looking at her. He said, ‘I like what you're seeing, Helen. You'll have to tell me sometime.'

He pushed her to the next door. Nudged her to open it. They were all empty. Half had missing floorboards, a couple of windows were gone.

Blyte pushed her to the steep narrow stairs at the end. She thought she could kick down easily and knock him down, but he started up later. He said, ‘I'm watching those shoes Helen, but mostly I'm watching above the shoes. Way above the shoes.'

Daniel got to the door and was about to call to Helen when he heard the car. He turned to see a police paddy-wagon pulling up next to the Volvo at the gate.

He dropped the food and ran into the hotel.

Helen pushed off at the top of the narrow stairs and ran. She called Daniel's name as she ran along the corridor of the third floor towards the larger stairs, but halfway ahead the floorboards were gone. She could hear Blyte behind and she swerved into the first door to her right. More floorboards were missing, but she balanced on the good ones and tottered towards the open window going to the outside balcony. He pushed her from behind and she fell against the wall and down to the floor where something stabbed and tore at her leg.

Helen's handbag was on the bar. Daniel scanned the room picking up two sets of footprints in the dust heading towards the stairs. He grabbed a chisel from a pile of tools.

She'd torn her skirt when she'd fallen and a nail had torn her thigh. She brought her hand up looking at the blood.

Blyte was panting as he stood above her.

Helen scrambled up quickly, her back against the wall.

‘I think we're finally alone, don't you.'

She looked towards the door and he stepped back in the way. He waited for her to look at him again before he said, ‘They'll blame Danilo. Free pass.'

He was going to hurt her, kill her, but she couldn't think of what
to say to a sociopath. Or was it psychopath? She couldn't recall the difference.

‘People need the world to make sense. Need logical causes for everything. That way, if they're good little vegemites they've got a chance. If there's no why, no reason, there's nothing they can do to protect themselves.'

He was feeling expansive. Perhaps he was gloating, or maybe it was his egotistical form of foreplay. Along the wall was the sash-window with no glass.

‘Ever read the story in the Bible about Job? Its message is that, no matter how many trials you are put through, if you keep your faith, you will be rewarded. Is that what you believe, Helen?'

She didn't answer. She moved a step along the wall as though settling her weight. She thought, keep talking you motherfucker. She watched him, vaguely aware that it was the first time in her life she had even imagined the word motherfucker.

‘The devil gets God to do these awful things.' He did the accents. ‘Who's ya best man, God? Bet ya ya can't torture him to death.' Jack Nicholson? ‘Oh, yeah. Just watch. Gdah. Gdah.' Goofy. ‘I love that story.'

‘And which one do you think you are?' Helen took a defiant step towards him as she spoke, but she also took a step towards the other end of the room. There were mostly full boards that way, one small jump. She felt blood dribbling down her leg but wouldn't look.

‘I'm sure not Job. I'll tell you why I do it, Helen. It makes me hornier than hell.' He started to undo his shirt.

If she could get him to undo his pants, she could run, maybe. She put her hands on her hips, even more defiant, taking another half step, slightly back. She said, ‘I think you like to hear yourself. I think you're a legend in your own lunchtime.'

He winced. Didn't like it. But then he smiled again. ‘Tell you what, if you're really really nice to me, maybe I'll let you go.' He was lying. Not even trying to hide it.

Helen wasn't close enough to the window yet.

Then Daniel called out. ‘Helen?'

He wasn't in the doorway but Blyte turned towards it and stepped back.

Helen ran for the sash-window screaming, ‘Daniel!'

Daniel heard her. She was above, on the third floor.

Helen ran along the veranda, dodging more holes on her way to the door at the end. It was locked. She turned.

Blyte was walking, unhurried, watching where he put his feet.

Helen stepped to the edge, and onto a rotten board. Her foot went through and she tried to turn to see Blyte, but her foot became stuck under another floorboard.

Blyte kept coming. ‘This place is a deathtrap really.'

‘Hey, you there!'

Helen looked down to see a policeman in the yard below.

She yelled, ‘Help me. He's crazy.'

Blyte stepped away from the edge of the veranda.

The policeman yelled, ‘Now Mr Longo, there's no need for anything silly. We want to talk.'

Helen yelled, at the top of her voice, ‘Amis Blyte. It's not Daniel. It's Amis Blyte.'

He was gone.

Daniel could hear Helen's voice yelling on the other side of the door to the top veranda. He tried the handle but it was stuck again. He bumped his good shoulder into it and it swung out. Helen stood there. Her foot was stuck and she had blood all over her skirt.

Down the steps. Button the shirt. A baby cop waiting. ‘It's all right, Mr Longo. No problems. Your wife's sister sent us. To make sure you're all right.' His hand reaching back. Taser? Gun?

Amis looks frightened. ‘He's upstairs. He's got a weapon.' Keeps on down the stairs.

The cop isn't sure. He backs away from Amis. Draws his pistol.

Amis says, ‘He's got the woman. His wife.' Amis needs the gun.
Sees the bits of wood in the centre of the room. Broken floorboards. ‘I think he's going to hurt her.'

The cop looks up suddenly, aiming his gun.

Daniel's voice. ‘Amis Blyte.'

Amis grabs the piece of wood and cracks it down onto the young idiot's head.

Daniel yelled again, ‘Amis.'

The man swung around after hitting the policeman and Daniel recognised him. He was the orderly in the hospital. He smiled and said, ‘Danny. Am I glad to see you. You're just in time.' He looked down at the groaning cop.

Daniel had the chisel by his side as he stood in the middle of the upstairs landing.

Blyte raised the wood again over the policeman.

Daniel hit down on the rope with the chisel. It frayed but held. He stabbed at it again and the rosette hurtled down for the second time crashing onto Blyte.

Helen sat on a milk crate in the corner while one of the ambos put a butterfly bandage on her cut leg. They thought she'd need a couple of stitches.

Helen had already called Leonie. Until her sister had assured her, Helen's greatest fear was Blyte's threat about the kids. They were fine. In fact Leonie was concerned about betraying Daniel by sending the police to the old pub. It had probably saved their lives.

After that, Helen just felt empty. She watched the ambos take away the hurt policeman on a stretcher. Then Blyte's body was loaded onto another gurney.

The detective from the factory fire questioned Daniel. ‘Who is this?'

‘Amis Blyte,' said Daniel.

‘What's the story?'

Daniel clouded, searched the room, blinked.

Helen called, ‘There isn't one.'

‘No. Why'd he go after you people?'

Helen said, ‘No reason.'

He looked from Amis to Helen, doubtful. He looked to Daniel. ‘But that makes no sense.'

‘No, it doesn't, does it,' said Daniel.

They held the wedding ceremony by Brian's hospital bed the day before Christmas. Brian was weak but tried to be upbeat. Rosemarie was dressed in her beautiful white wedding gown.

The minister said, ‘To have and to hold.'

Brian said, ‘But not too tightly.'

Daniel had the ring. Brian had forgiven him once he heard that Blyte was real.

The minister said, ‘From this day forth; for better or worse; for richer for poorer.'

Brian intoned, ‘Poorer.'

Daniel looked back to find Helen with the kids. He smiled but she looked away again. She'd been distant since the hotel.

The minister said, ‘In sickness and...'

‘That's me,' said Brian.

And the minister said, ‘Brian, you're not taking this seriously.'

Rosemarie said, ‘He will.'

Brian said, ‘I do, I do.'

It was a strange wedding, as though they had washed up on shore after a shipwreck.

Frances was having trouble settling. She lay on her back in bed with the sheet pulled up to her nose but her eyes shone with the expectation. ‘Can I see him?'

Helen said, ‘You can listen for his reindeer landing on our roof.'

‘He'll wait till you're asleep,' said Daniel.

He edged past Helen and kissed Frances. ‘I love you.' She nodded, closing her eyes. Of course.

He turned to smile at Helen, but she had already turned away, heading to Sam's room.

Sam was pretending to be asleep. The puppy's face poked out from under his sheet. They'd named the dog Nemo which of course they'd had to explain to Daniel was a famous fish. ‘Fish?' he'd said. The kids loved it when he didn't know things.

Helen went down to do the presents. It had been a pretty crazy lead-up to Christmas, she thought and smiled at the mundane understatement. And it wasn't over.

The tree twinkled. Daniel had finally put up a couple of the Christmas decorations. It was a big tree. They'd put presents under the tree, the ones Frances had seen Daniel buy. ‘See, these are those presents, but he'll bring more.' The white tip of an eagle's wing poked out of the wrapping paper. The kids had not had time to paint the bird's feathers. In truth, Helen had not had time to help them. They'd promise Daddy to paint them later, on Boxing Day.

Daniel came into the room and sat on the couch trying to catch her eye. Helen went past him and got the bags of presents where she'd hidden them in the pantry. When she came back, Daniel got one of the kids' stockings and held it open for her to put presents in.

He said, ‘He's gone now, Helen.'

She took the full stocking and put it under the tree. But it wasn't over.

When she turned back, he had the next stocking open and ready.

Helen stayed by the tree. She was still angry with him. The targeting was not the point, she realised. It was a thing they'd gotten through but now they were back where they started. Only now their old niggling problems were laid bare. She said, ‘When there's a war, you need warriors.'

He nodded but with his half a shrug.

‘But, when there's not ... the warriors and hunters – have to learn to be something else.'

He sat on the couch trying to think it through. He looked up finally and said, ‘What?'

He made her smile. She said, ‘I'm still trying to work that out.'

The voice came from outside the room. ‘It was the night before Christmas.' Amis Blyte.

‘Mummy!' Frances.

Daniel reached the door first.

‘He came in my window.'

Daniel strode towards the stairs. ‘Let her go.'

Blyte raised the knife.

Daniel froze.

Blyte smiled and said, ‘All was quiet in the house. No one was stirring, not even a mouse.'

Daniel said, ‘Let them go. Let them go, and I'll do what you want.'

Frances was annoyed but not frightened. Blyte had her by the elbow in the way he'd held Helen at the old hotel.

Blyte said, ‘Helen. Go into the kitchen and turn on the gas. I want you both to know that you can save yourselves at any time. Just run out the door.'

Helen started for the kitchen.

Frances called, ‘Mum!'

‘I'm coming back, bloss.'

Blyte said, ‘She's coming back. She always comes back.'

Daniel said, ‘Let the kids go. Please, let the kids go.'