‘I will free you, Val!’ I said frantically. ‘By tomorrow you will be rid of him!’
‘Oh, go away! Spare me your empty promises. I told you! There is no solution. For God’s sake, go away!’
I left her and returned to my office. I put the torch on the desk and stood listening to the creaking boards guarding the windows as the wind slammed against them.
Your empty promises.
That really hurt.
I went around my desk and sat down. The flickering lamp cast ghostly shadows.
If Val hadn’t taken the gun, who had?
I tried to remember when last I had seen it. Then I recalled opening my desk drawer and looking at the gun early this morning. I hadn’t looked at it since. So either Vidal, Dyer or Gesetti could have found and taken it.
I discounted Vidal immediately. I was sure, had he found it, he would have demanded an explanation: why had I a gun in my desk? If Dyer had found it, I felt almost sure he would have left it alone. I couldn’t imagine Dyer touching any gun.
Then it must be Gesetti!
I reached for the whisky, poured a stiff shot and drank it. The spirit bolstered my jumping nerves. Snatching up my torch, I went to the door and peered up the dark corridor and then down the dark stairs. Moving swiftly, I descended the stairs and finally reached Gesetti’s room. I paused to listen. He was still snoring.
For a long moment I hesitated, then turning the door handle, I moved into the room, leaving the door ajar.
There was a smell of stale sweat, sickly hair oil and cigarette smoke hanging in the darkness.
My heart was slamming against my ribs and my mouth was dry. If it hadn’t been for the whisky I would have backed out of the room.
Gesetti gave a sudden violent snort that lifted the hairs on the back of my neck, then he stopped snoring.
Had he come awake?
I remained motionless, sweat trickling down my face. I heard him heave himself over, grunt and then the snoring began again.
Still I waited. Then satisfied he was truly asleep, I screened the bulb of my torch with my fingers and turned it on.
Keeping the shielded light away from the bed, I looked around the small room. Against the wall, close to me, was a chest of drawers. This would be the most likely place for him to have put the gun. Gently, I eased open the top drawer. It was full of fancy shirts, but no gun.
Closing the drawer, I pulled open the second drawer. As it came open it gave a sharp squeaking sound that chilled my blood. I snapped off the torch.
The snoring stopped.
Inch by inch I began to close the drawer.
Then out of the darkness, Gesetti growled, ‘Who the hell’s there?’
I had the drawer shut now and I stepped quickly away from the chest.
‘It’s all right.’ I turned on my torch. My voice was a strangled whisper.
Gesetti was sitting up in bed. His snake’s eyes glittered in the light of the torch. He looked as if he were about to spring at me.
‘What do you want?’ he snarled.
‘I... I just looked in to see how you were.’ I backed towards the door.
‘Yeah?’ His big fists rested on his knees. He was wearing his black open neck shirt. His heavy fat jowls were covered with stubble. ‘I’ll tell you. I’ve got a goddamn headache and I want to sleep. That’s how I feel! Now piss off and don’t come sneaking in here again or I’ll kick the hell out of you!’
I stepped into the dark corridor and closed the door. I was so shaken I felt I was about to throw up.
As I started down the corridor, I saw a light coming from the stairs and the sounds of someone descending. I paused, leaning against the wall.
Dyer came into view. He had on a dark blue dressing gown. The beam of his torch lit up the stairs.
I watched him. He went straight to Vidal’s door, tapped, opened it and paused in the doorway.
‘Didn’t I tell you I was not to be disturbed?’ I heard Vidal bark.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but Mrs. Vidal...’ Dyer’s voice trailed away.
‘Well, What about Mrs. Vidal?’
‘She seems upset, sir. I heard her crying and sort of moaning. I thought you should know.’
‘Very considerate of you Dyer’ Vidal’s voice was angrily sarcastic. ‘You are getting as bad as Burden with this concern about Mrs. Vidal.’
‘I think you should see her, sir. She really sounds very bad,’ Dyer said and moved back into the corridor.
‘Goddamn it!’ Vidal exploded. I heard him push his chair back violently and he came bouncing out into the corridor, slamming his office door shut behind him. ‘I’m getting good and tired of Mrs. Vidal’s damned hysterics!’
Pushing Dyer aside, he ran quickly up the stairs. Dyer hesitated, then followed him up.
I moved forward and paused at the foot of the stairs, seeing Dyer standing at the head of the stairs.
Then above the noise of the storm, I could just hear Vidal’s angry shouting voice, but not what he was saying.
Then I heard a wild scream that made Dyer move forward.
I darted up the stairs as Dyer threw the beam of his torch down the corridor.
Val came bursting out of her room, her eyes wild, her hands groping forward.
I heard Vidal bellow, ‘Come back here! Do you hear me? Come back here!’
She paused for only a brief moment to look back into the room, then she darted up the narrow stairs that led to the attics.
Vidal appeared in the doorway. His face was livid with ugly rage.
‘Valerie! Come back!’
Then a great rush of wind came down the stairs, sending him staggering. I shoved Dyer aside and ran down the corridor. The violence of the wind caught me and threw me against the wall.
‘The goddamn lunatic!’ Vidal bawled. ‘She’s gone on the roof!’
He began to fight his way up the stairs. Clinging to the banister rail, hammered by the wind, I followed him to a broad landing.
Facing us was a doorway through which poured the wind and the rain. The door was slammed back against the wall.
‘She’s as good as dead!’ Vidal bawled. ‘No one could live out there!’
He struggled to the open doorway. Gripping the sides of the doorway, he peered out into the darkness while the wind and the rain lashed him. A vivid, blinding streak of lightning lit up the sky. The crash of thunder was deafening.
I tried to join him, but the wind slammed me to my knees. Vidal held on, his great strength defeating the pull of the wind.
Then I saw Dyer.
He came scrambling up the stairs on hands and knees, his eyes bolting out of his head, his mouth half open. He passed me and then he drove forward in a flying tackle, his hands slamming against Vidal’s broad back.
Caught off balance, Vidal pitched forward into the wind and the rain.
I had one brief horrible glimpse of him as the wind swept him from sight, then the torch I was holding slipped out of my fingers and began to roll down the stairs.
Darkness closed in as I heard Dyer, his breath sobbing through his clenched teeth, drag the door shut and slam home the bolt.
Val and Vidal were out there on the exposed roof, swept by the ferocious, deadly wind!
Had Dyer gone out of his mind?
He had bolted them out to certain death!
The sudden beam of Dyer’s torch half blinded me. I could see he had set his back against the door. His face was as white as tallow and his lips kept twitching.
‘Dyer! She’s out there!’ I shouted at him. ‘Get away from the door! She’ll be killed! I’m going after her!’
‘Clay!’
The sound of her voice turned me to stone. Slowly, I moved my eyes, my body rigid with shock.
Val was standing in the doorway of a small room to my right.
‘It’s all right Clay.’ A ghastly little smile hovered around her lips. ‘It was the only way. You couldn’t do it, so we did it.’