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The feel of her firm cool flesh made his heart beat quicken. He was suddenly sure that, if he had met her sooner, he wouldn’t have done what he had done.

“Good night.”

He watched her cycle away and then he began the lone walk back to the Plaza hotel.

II

His head nodding, his mouth slack, Joe Kerr slept and dreamed of his wife. It was a nightmare dream that haunted his sleep. He saw himself again in his Cadillac, the horror of his wife’s one blood-chilling scream ringing in his ears. He saw himself get out of the car and move to where she was pinned between the rear bumper and the garage wall. The red taillights of the car lit up her crushed, bleeding body.

He woke with a start as Floyd Delaney and his wife came from the elevator and crossed the corridor, pausing outside the door to their suite while Delaney fumbled with the key.

Joe heard Delaney say: “Phew! I’m ready to hit the sack. How do you feel, honey?”

Sophia said: “Me too. I feel I could sleep for weeks.”

Joe watched them enter the suite and he shook his aching head, trying to clear his fuddled brain. He looked at his watch. The time was ten minutes to three o’clock.

How long had he slept?

He remembered he had looked at the time at twenty-five minutes to one. Then he must have fallen asleep. Had the Balu girl left the suite while he had been sleeping? He doubted it. The fact that he had woken when Delaney and his wife had returned assured him that, if the girl had left, he would have known about it.

He groped for his half-pint flask of whisky, then paused as he heard the whine of the ascending elevator. A moment later the door swished back and Jay Delaney stepped into the corridor.

Joe watched him cross the corridor to the door of suite 27. He watched him tentatively turn the handle, then open the door.

Well, the family was back now. What was going to happen? Where was the Balu girl? With resigned patience, Joe prepared himself for another long wait.

In the suite, Sophia had kissed her husband good night and had gone into her room, shutting the door. She leaned against the door, listening. After a few minutes she heard the sound of the shower that told her Floyd was preparing for bed and cautiously, she opened her bedroom door and moved into the lounge as Jay came in.

Jay glanced quickly around, then asked softly: “Where’s father?”

“He’s gone to bed. I want to talk to you, Jay.”

“In here?” He waved to his bedroom and she nodded. They went in together and Jay sat on the edge of the bed while Sophia leaned against the door.

Sophia was tense and pale, but Jay was relaxed; his eyes hidden behind his dark glasses gave her no chance of knowing what his true feelings were.

She said, “Have you thought what you are going to do?”

Since leaving Ginette, Jay had been irritated to discover that he was now bored with having Lucille’s body to cope with. When he had killed her, he had thought the business of disposing of her body would be an exciting test for his ingenuity and his wits, but now, his mind still full of Gillette’s lovely little face, he wished he could give her his full attention and not to have to be bothered with the dead girl.

“I’m going to put her in the elevator, take the elevator to the top floor and leave it there,” he said. “No one will be able to guess where she died. It’s the safest way.”

Sophia considered this. Her sharp wits told her that because of its simplicity it could be successful.

“But you may be seen,” she said.

Jay shrugged his shoulders.

“Yes but no plan is completely fool-proof. I must take that risk unless... ” He paused and looked intently at her.

“Unless — what?” she said sharply.

“Unless you would be willing to help me.”

Sophia stiffened.

“Help you? If I did and you were caught, it would make me an accessory.”

“Yes, I suppose it would.” He rubbed his jaw, frowning. “It was only an idea. It would have made it fool-proof if I had someone in the corridor to warn me if anyone was coming while I got her into the elevator. That’s where the risk is: carrying her across the corridor. Someone might come up the stairs... ”

“Are you going to do it now?” Sophia asked.

Jay looked at his watch. It was now half-past three.

“I may as well. The elevator is now on automatic. This is the best time.”

“Now? This very moment?”

“Yes, when you have gone.”

Sophia hesitated, then she made the decision. Everything she had gained during her struggle to fame and everything that her husband had gained was in the balance, depending on whether or not some late comer strolled up the stairs when Jay carried the girl’s body into the corridor.

To take such a risk would be inviting disaster, she told herself. She had to help him.

“I’m going to the head of the stairs,” she said quietly. “If anyone comes I’ll call out ‘good night’. You must be very quick, Jay.”

He stared at her, startled.

“You mean you are going to help me? I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? They could send you to prison.”

“Never mind why I am doing it,” she said curtly. “I’m going to do it.” She looked at him, her face pale and her eyes glittering. “But don’t imagine you won’t have to pay for this, Jay, because you will and you’ll pay dearly.”

He frowned and his hands turned into fists.

“Of course.” His voice was bitter. “I was stupid enough to think for a moment you were thinking of me. You are doing it only for father and yourself, aren’t you?”

“Is that so surprising?” Sophia said coldly. “Why should we suffer because of what you have done? If your father knew, he would hand you over to the police. He has the courage to face the horrible publicity of the trial and the pity of our friends, but I’m not going to let a brutal, callous act of a mentally deranged boy ruin my husband’s future if I can help it. I’m prepared to take the risk of going to prison rather than see all your father’s hard work go for nothing and my social life ruined. So I’m going to help you, but don’t imagine you won’t pay for this degenerate thing you have done.”

Jay took out his cigarette case, opened it and offered it to Sophia. She hesitated, then took a cigarette. She stood motionless while he lit it for her and then one for himself.

“So you think I’m insane?” he said, sitting on the bed again. “That’s interesting. You are quite wrong, of course. I’m not insane. I did it because I was bored. You don’t know what it is to be really bored. For years now I have craved for something to happen that would be unusual and exciting. There can’t be anything more exciting than to risk one’s life. That was why I killed her.” He paused and his hands moved uneasily up and down his thighs as he stared at her. “But I’ll be frank with you, Sophia. This thing has misfired. It’s nothing like so exciting as I had imagined it would be. There was one moment when it was worthwhile. It was quite a moment when you came back here unexpectedly. I got a thrill out of that, but after, it has all been flat and dull.”

Sophia looked at him with loathing.

“I don’t want to listen to your explanations, Jay. You have done this horrible thing, now you must try to save your father and me from the consequences.”

“Of course.”

His indifferent smile riled her.

“Are you ready?” she said and opened the door.

“Yes.”

“I’ll call the elevator. Be quick.”

Bracing herself, she walked into the lounge. As she went to the door leading out on to the corridor, she heard Jay cross his room and unlock the cupboard door.

She looked into the deserted corridor, then she crossed to the elevator and pushed the call button. She heard the faint whining sound as the elevator ascended. She walked quickly to the head of the stairs and peered over the banister rail. She looked down the deserted stairs, her heart hammering so violently she could scarcely breathe.