He came into the room and shut the door. He shut the door very slowly and deliberately. I had a feeling that he and I were not going to hit it off.
He said, “I’ve got a way with wise guys.” His voice had the whine of a run-down gramophone. “You won’t be so snotty when I’ve been through you.”
I moved slowly away from him. “Now don’t do anythin’ your ma wouldn’t like to hear about,” I said. “Suppose you an’ I talk things over.”
I was putting a lot of pressure on that twine, but it was so thin that it threatened to cut right through my wrists.
He followed me right across the room, until my back came against the wall with a little jar. I could just make out a little grin on his face as he swung at me.
I timed the blow and shifted my head. His fist sailed past, scraping my ear. His left followed that, but I twisted and took it on my shoulder. For a thin, miserable-looking guy, he’d got plenty of steam in his punches. I knew I wasn’t going to keep this up for long.
Along came his right again, moving like a steam pile for the centre of my face. I bent my knee and dropped my head on to my chest. His fist parted my hair. Then I came up quickly, and dug my knee in his stomach. Can you tie that? This punk let me give him one like that.
He made a row like a deflated tyre and went over backwards. I wasn’t going to sit around and nurse him. Stepping back, I took careful aim and kicked him on the side of his head as hard as I could. Over he went, his arms flung wide. That kick was a good one. He stayed right where he was.
I stood over him to hand him some more, but he was past caring about me. When I was sure he was out for keeps, I pulled my hands under me and stepped through my wrists, bringing my hands in front of me, instead of at the back. I examined the twine carefully. I looked at the candle and decided to have a try. I burnt myself once or twice, but I got free. The twine snapped after the third application to the flame. I rubbed the life back into my wrists and scratched the back of my head.
On the face of it, it looked like I’d only got the fat guy to worry about. I knelt beside Gus and went through his pockets. I should have felt a lot easier if I could have turned up a gun. But I didn’t find one.
Having made sure, I stood up and walked softly to the door. I reckoned that I could take the fat guy on if I surprised him. I found I still had my torch. Moving softly, I slid out into the passage. I stood there listening. If I’d got my bearings right, Mardi should be behind the door on the far end of the passage. I walked quietly down and listened.
Just as I had my head almost touching the door, a sudden wild scream made me jerk back.
I almost burst in, but stopped myself in time. The idea was to get the fat guy to come out to me. I raised my hand and rapped on the door sharply. Then I stepped away to the head of the stairs and flattened myself against the wall. The passage had a sharp bend, so I was fairly under cover.
There was a moment’s silence, then a light appeared. I crouched down to afford as small a target as possible, and prepared for trouble.
Nothing happened. I went lower still and moved a little to the bend. I wasn’t risking anything, so I just stretched my ears. I could hear the fat guy wheezing. He, too, must have been listening, and wondering what it was all about. “Gus?” he croaked. “That you, Gus?” He sounded like he was scared.
I let the silence worry him. He came out into the passage and stood just outside the door. The light was behind him. By keeping close to the wall and peering round the bend, I could just see him; at the same time I was out of his sight.
He raised his voice. “Gus,” he shouted, “I want you.”
I very softly tapped on the ground with the butt of my torch. I made just enough noise for him to think he’d heard something, but not enough for him to be sure. I could see him cock his head, then with a grunt he moved towards me. I waited for him patiently, my muscles tense. Just when I was sure I’d get him, he stopped and stepped back. Maybe his good angel had tapped him on his shoulder. He went back into the room quick and shut the door.
Was I pleased! I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. I told myself I had to go on in there and chance getting into trouble.
Just as I was getting set, I heard the sound of a bell ringing somewhere in the house. That stopped me. I beat it down the passage quick to the room where I had left Gus. He was still lying on his back, dreaming sweet dreams.
The bell rang again impatiently. This was serious. If more of the boys were arriving, it looked like I was in for a siege. I stood by the door, listening. The fat guy finally made up his mind to make the trip. I heard him open his door and step into the passage. I could see the flicker of a torch coming slowly along.
Would he look in and see if all was well here? If he did, I should have to start something. If he didn’t and went downstairs, it might give me enough time to get in that front room and see what was going on in there.
While I was thinking this out, he decided things for me. I saw the handle of the door suddenly move, and I knew he was going to have a look. I had no time to clear Gus out of the way. He lay in full view in the light of the candle. I stepped hastily behind the door and waited. The door opened softly and the fat guy put his head round. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been in such a jam. He just stuck his head round the door and his eyes lighted on Gus.
I didn’t give him a chance to get set. I flung my weight on the panel of the door, crushing his head. He looked like a side-show. His eyes popped and they rolled round until they lit on me.
“Relax, brother,” I said, and hit him on his chin with a nice roundhouse swing that had everything I’d got packed into it.
The punch connected on his button with a crisp click. The jar of the blow ran right up my arm and I lost most of the skin off my knuckles. His eyes went blank and I slackened my weight on the door; down he went like a stricken elephant.
I jerked the door open and stepped over him. The bell rang again furiously, and someone began to drum on the door. I ran my hands over him and found his gun. It was a .45 Smith & Wesson. A nice argument in any rough-house.
Boy! Did that gun feel good in my hand!
The hammering and ringing off stage packed up suddenly. That meant they were nervous of waking up the neighbourhood and were going to get in through a window. I didn’t kid myself that they would go home.
I dived out into the passage and burst into the other room. Now I was expecting to find Mardi there. I already had visions of being quite the hero in her eyes. I went so far as to imagine that she would sink into my arms, so it set me back a long way when I saw Blondie sitting there.
Blondie? Can you tie that? There she was, tied hand and foot to a chair. Her eyes were brooding sudden death and her general expression like a tigress about to start something.
I stopped in my tracks. “Well, for the love of Mike!” I said.
She was as startled as I was. “Get me out of here,” she said hoarsely.
It was when she spoke that I saw she had been having a bad time. Some guy with more imagination than the milk of human kindness had been giving her the works. I could see the bruises on her face, and a Short length of rubber hose lying at her feet told me things, too.
I went behind her and sawed through the twine with my knife. “This gets me,” I told her as I worked. “I’ve been knocking guys all over the house an’ riskin’ my skin because I thought I was helping a girl friend of mine… now I find it’s you.”
She didn’t say anything, but the way her breath whistled through her nose told me she was plenty mad.
I had to move quickly. I just didn’t know how long those guys downstairs would be before they walked in on us. As soon as I had got rid of the twine, I jumped to the door.