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“Can’t you see? If Ted’s the killer, this is the one way we can trap him. When I was photographed I knew what I had to do I started working on Ted and he fell for it. We’ve the same set-up now that led to the other killings. I’m Ted’s new girlfriend. I’ve been photographed. My photograph will appear in the Street-Camera Studio window, and it only needs me to disappear. The wheel’s turned a full circle. Only this time I don’t intend to disappear.”

I thought about this. “Maybe you’ll be safe until the picture appears in the Street-Camera Studio window. It may not. If it does, then we mustn’t leave you for a second.”

“It will appear,” Audrey said. “I telephoned them and fixed it. They’re making a special enlargement and have promised to put it in their window.”

Reg looked at her admiringly. “You’ve got guts,” he said. “Now maybe we’ll get somewhere.”

I didn’t like any of this, bet it was no use raising objections.

“Okay, kid,” I said, “we’ll stick close to you. Where are you meeting Ted tomorrow night?”

“He’s calling for me. He said something about dinner and a dance, but there was nothing decided.”

I looked at Reg. “We three are going over to the Cranville cemetery when it gets dark. I want to look around. Then you take Audrey back to the hotel and stick with her. I’m going to take a look at Esslinger’s Funeral Parlour.”

“Listen,” Audrey said, leaning forward. “Why don’t you also have a look at Ted’s bedroom? He told me he’d be late tonight. We could go over there now.”

“You can’t do that,” Reg said hastily. “If we’re caught Esslinger’ll stick the cops on us.”

“Do you know where his room’s located?” I asked, thinking it was a good idea. “Can I reach it without trouble?”

Audrey nodded. “It’s at the back,” she said. “You could do it easily. Come on, I’ll drive you over now.”

I pushed back my chair. “Okay,” I said, “let’s go.”

Reg groaned. “You’re sticking your neck out,” he said. “Hench and Mrs. E. will be in the house. You don’t think they’ll let you get away with this, do you?”

“Don’t be chicken-hearted, Pinkie,” I grinned, and led the way out.

Esslinger’s house was a modest, two-storey building on the outer limits of the town. It stood on its own small plot of land and was hidden from the other houses by a tall box-hedge.

In the rapidly falling darkness Audrey brought us to the back of the house along a narrow, deserted road. It was after ten o’clock by the time we had reached the house, and although the upper floor was in darkness, lights blazed from a room on the ground floor.

Audrey stopped the car and we all got out.

“That’s his room, there,” she whispered, pointing to a small window that projected from the sloping roof. “All you have to do is to walk tip the garden path, climb the pipe-stack and you’ll be on the roof. It’s easy to walk up to the window from there.”

“Who do you think he is — Tarzan of the Apes?” Reg muttered.

“Okay,” I said. “You wait here. If you see anything moving, sound the horn.”

Audrey slipped her hand in mine. “You will be careful, won’t you? I mean I don’t want you to break your neck.”

I looked down at her, wishing Reg was out of the way. “Don’t worry about me,” I said, “I’ll be all right.”

“If you two want to be more intimate, don’t worry about me,” Reg said sarcastically. “I can stand it if you can.”

I put my hand over his face and gave him a shove, then with a quick smile at Audrey I swung myself over the fence and dropped onto the soft ground of the flower-bed.

Keeping in the shadows, I moved silently up the garden. The light from the sitting room blazed on to the lawn and I could see, before I reached the house, I would have to pass right through this patch of light. As I drew nearer, I slowed my pace, and finally, just outside the edge of light, I stopped and peered into the silting-room.

Mrs. Esslinger sat facing me. She was sitting in a large armchair and she was knitting. Although her fingers guided the needles with what seemed to me an incredible speed, her eyes stared out of the window. She seemed to be staring right at me and the fixed, cold expression in her eyes gave me a spooky feeling. I instinctively ducked back into the darkness. I waited for a moment, wondering if she had seen me, and then as nothing happened I peered into the room again.

She still stared out of the window, but I was sure now that she couldn’t see me out there in the darkness. But I would have to be careful how I crossed the patch of light.

I went down on my hands and knees and, moving slowly, crawled into the patch of light. I felt naked for those few seconds it took me to reach the cover of the shadows.

I stood up as I neared the house and listened. Nothing happened. Except for a car that roared past the front of the house, there was no sound. But I made no move. I leaned against the wooden rails of the verandah and waited.

Nothing happened for a long minute, then I saw a shadow on the lawn, near me. Mrs. Esslinger was standing at the window. The light from the room threw her shadow in a long, distorted shape on the close-clipped grass. My heart began to thump steadily and suddenly my mouth went dry.

I pressed myself further against the verandah, knowing it was dark enough where I stood, but I was scared. There was no time to analyse this feeling of fear. Somewhere in my subconscious I was astonished at being so scared. Mrs. Esslinger was certainly bad for my nerves.

I waited there, hardly breathing and in a chill of a cold sweat. The shadow moved suddenly and then I saw Mrs. Esslinger’s head. She was peering into the garden, silently and intently. I knew she was listening.

She was so close to me that if I had taken three steps towards I could have touched her. If she turned her head and looked in my direction, I felt sure she would see me. It was the worse few seconds I’ve ever experienced.

She suddenly seemed satisfied that no one was in the garden, for she disappeared from the window and abruptly drew the curtains. The garden was plunged into complete darkness, and for a few seconds I could see nothing. Then gradually my eyes became used to the darkness and the house took shape again.

I hesitated about entering the house, wondering where Hench was, wondering if Mrs. Esslinger had gone upstairs. That was something I had to find out.

Moving cautiously, I approached the window. The curtains were tightly closed across the window, but the window itself was open. I leaned forward, my heart banging against my ribs, and listened. At the back of my mind I wondered if Mrs. Esslinger was standing behind the curtains waiting to spring out on me. Just the thought of that made my knees knock together. Very faintly, I heard the clicking of knitting needles and I quietly stepped away from the window.

If I was going to get into the house, I must do so quickly. There were no other lights showing, and I hoped both Esslinger and Hench were out.

I found the stack-pipe Audrey had told me about. It was at the far end of the house away from the room where Mrs. Esslinger was sitting. I tested it and found it strong enough to take my weight. Before making the climb I took off my shoes and then, gripping the pipe in both hands, I edged my way up the side of the house.

It took me only a few moments to reach the sloping roof, and hooking my fingers in the gutter I drew myself up on to the tiles. I was sweating with the exertion, and it was only then that I realized the night had become hot and oppressive. Although the moon rode high, a black cloud-bank was moving slowly on the horizon and it looked to me as if a storm were blowing up.

I stood on the roof and looked across the garden into the road. I could see the car parked not far away and the dim outlines of Audrey and Reg watching me. I raised my hand and they waved back. Then I turned and walked carefully up the gentle slope of the roof towards Ted’s bedroom window.