With my heart hammering, I pulled out my flashlight, snapped it on, and ran to the fuse box. I knew the right wire to cut. With a shaking hand, I inserted the wire cutter and cut the wire adrift.
Even if they found the control button inside the vault, the shutter would no longer work.
I had them trapped!
As I stood by the half-open garage door, looking cautiously out on to the side street, I glanced at my watch. The time now was 04.30. My thoughts were on Glenda.
The easiest and quickest thing to do was to take the Chevy, parked outside the bank, but I decided against this. I had seen Joe remove the ignition key. The car was parked within ten yards of the sentry-box. I could have started the car, but it would have taken time, and have attracted the guard’s attention.
I must get back to my apartment, and use my car. I peered up and down the deserted, narrow street, then closing the garage doors, I began to run down the street, away from Main Street, turning left, running down another street, then turning left again, and I was on Main Street, but some hundred yards from the bank entrance. I then slowed to a fast walk.
Sharnville was asleep.
It took me twenty minutes, half running, half walking, to reach my apartment. During the journey, my mind was active. Although I was desperately anxious to get to Glenda, I had to provide for going on the run. I would need clothes.
I had only three thousand dollars now, but that would be enough to get us both to Canada. I was confident, once there, I could find some means of earning more money.
Letting myself into my apartment, I paused to look around.
I had lived here now for more than four years. I felt a pang about leaving it. As I stood there, the realization that I was now a fugitive, to be constantly hunted, hit me.
Going into my bedroom, I got out a big suitcase and packed most of my more useful clothes. I then returned to the living-room and collected my various work tools, calculators and tables of reference. Without them, I would be lost.
I had few valuable possessions. I took gold cuff-links, a heavy gold signet ring that I never wore, and which my father had given me, a silver cigarette box I had won in a golf tournament, and I was ready to go.
I paused once more to look around, then snapped off the lights and rode down in the elevator to the garage. I heaved the heavy suitcase into the trunk of the car, started the engine and drove up the ramp.
As I drove along deserted Main Street, heading for the highway, I slowed as I passed the bank.
The guard, yawning, was in his sentry-box.
I wondered what the four men, trapped in the vault, were doing. There was no possible way for them to break out until Monday morning when Manson arrived.
They were desperate men. I had to warn Manson. If he opened the vault doors, even knowing that the vault had been tampered with, these four would come out, shooting. I had no illusions about that. I decided, when I reached the nearest Canadian airport from the border, I would telephone Manson and warn him so the bank could be surrounded by armed police.
Now, my thoughts switched to Glenda, I longed to see her face when I shot back the bolt and walked into her prison. We would drive immediately to the airport and take the first available plane to Canada.
I was now on the highway, which at this hour, was deserted, but I knew there were police patrols, so I was careful not to speed. It took me twenty minutes of careful driving to reach the dirt road leading to Klaus’s place.
My heart now thumping, my thoughts of walking into that house and freeing Glenda churning in my mind, I pulled up before the closed gate.
As a precaution, I had turned off my headlights as I drove up the dirt road.
Klaus had said Glenda was guarded. In spite of what Harry had said, I was taking no chances.
As I got out of the car, I pulled the gun from my pocket. I stood by the gate and looked towards the house. It was in total darkness.
Was someone there, lurking behind the closed curtains, aware that I had arrived?
Gently, I opened the gate, far enough for me to slip through. The faint dawn light made me visible if anyone was watching from the house. I hesitated, then bracing myself, I ran quickly across the coarse grass of the lawn until I reached the front door.
I paused, then turned the door handle and gently pushed. The door opened. I looked into darkness, waited, listened, then hearing nothing, I stepped into the lobby. Again, I paused, listening. Then slowly, the gun pointing ahead of me, my finger on the trigger, I began to move down the passage that led to Glenda’s prison. Pausing again, I took out my flashlight.
If someone was lurking in the living-room, and came out shooting, I was as good as dead. The urge to see Glenda again was too much for me. I switched on the flashlight and swung its beam on the door ahead of me.
The door stood open!
Forgetting any danger of a possible ambush, I walked quickly into the room, groped for the light switch and snapped it on.
The bright light blinded me for a moment, then I took in the familiar room which Glenda and I had shared.
It came as a crushing blow when I saw Glenda wasn’t there. I rushed into the bathroom... no Glenda.
Not caring now, I snapped on the passage light, ran into the living-room and turned on the lights.
It took me only a few seconds to go over the whole house.
No Glenda!
Chapter Eight
Faint sunlight came through the curtains and lit up the carpet. A blackbird shrilled a warning. The refrigerator in the kitchen started up with a growl.
I stirred and looked at my watch. The time now was 05.45. I had been sitting in a despairing heap in the living-room, crushed with the knowledge that I had been too late to save Glenda.
I was sure now that when I left with Harry, Benny had murdered her, and had buried her. My suspicions that Klaus would order her killing were now confirmed.
I thought of her, the only woman I had found that really meant something to me. I saw her again: her red hair, her eyes, and that lovely body.
Somewhere on this farm, she had been buried. I had to find her grave! I couldn’t continue to sit here, grieving for her. Getting to my feet, I walked out into the cool early morning air. The sun, now rising above the trees cast pale shadows.
I looked around. The barn? I crossed the lawn and entered the barn, then came to an abrupt standstill.
I had forgotten the faked security truck. There it was, standing in the middle of the barn. I crossed to it, and looked through the driver’s window. Lying on the bench seat were the two guards’ uniforms. I checked my watch. In twenty-four hours, if not less, the two men, posing as guards, would be arriving. Here was danger! If they drove the truck down to the bank as arranged, and found they couldn’t get into the cellar garage, what would they do? If the bank guard spotted them, trying to get in, would he set off an alarm?
My mind was in a turmoil, but the urgent need to find Glenda’s grave prevailed. I looked around the barn, examining the hard, dirt floor. She certainly wasn’t buried here. As I started to die door, I heard a car approaching.
My heart thumping, my hand in my pocket, gripping the butt of the gun, I moved out into the pale sunshine.
A shabby Chrysler car had pulled up close to where I had parked my car, and two men got out. I recognized them as the two men who were to act as guards.
Seeing me, they stopped short. They looked at each other, as I waved to them. They had seen me with Harry, and I hoped they would imagine I was one of the gang.