“Your gun too?” Carrie asked, moving forward.
He forced the feeling of panic that gripped him into control and turning, he smiled at her: a forced smile, but a smile.
“Looks like someone broke in here last night and grabbed all the guns,” he said. “I guess I’d better call the police.”
“That motor-cycle I heard...”
“Could be. I’ll call the police.”
As he picked up the telephone receiver, Carrie said, a rise in her voice, “He... he could still be here. I told you... I didn’t hear him leave.”
Vic scarcely heard what she was saying for he was realizing as he held the telephone receiver to his ear and as he began to dial that the telephone was dead.
Speaking as calmly as he could, Vic said, “Seems the telephone is on the blink.” Slowly he replaced the receiver.
Carrie said breathlessly, “It was all right last night. We had that call from...”
“I know,” Vic cut in. “Well, it’s not working now.”
They faced each other.
“What’s happened to Bruno?” Carrie asked. She folded her arms across her breasts, her blue eyes growing rounder. “Do you think...?”
“Now don’t get worked up,” Vic said sharply. “Someone broke in here last night, disconnected the telephone and took the guns. It’s possible he has put Bruno out of action.”
Carrie flinched.
“You mean... Bruno’s dead?”
“I don’t know, darling. Drugged perhaps... I don’t know.”
Carrie came into the room and moved quickly to Vic, putting her arms around him. He held her, feeling her slight body trembling. “Oh, Vic, I’m frightened! What is it? What are we going to do?”
He patted her, holding her close to him, aware that he too was a little frightened: aware too of the loneliness of the place. He thought of Di-Long.
“Look, you go back to Junior. I’m going to wake Di-Long, I’ll get him to stay with you while I take a look around. Come on, Carrie, you don’t have to look so scared.”
With his arm around her, he walked with her into the bedroom where Junior, in his cot, was kicking his fat legs and making his usual routine noises.
“You stay right here. I won’t be a couple of minutes.”
“No!” Carrie gripped his arm. “Don’t leave me, Vic! You mustn’t leave me!”
“But, darling...”
“Please! Don’t leave me!”
He hesitated, then nodded.
“Okay, okay, now don’t get worked up.”
He went over to the open window that looked out onto the staff cabin, some two hundred yards away.
Leaning out, he shouted, “Di-Long! Hey! Di-Long!”
Only silence greeted his shout. The small cabin with its tightly closed green shutters showed no sign of life.
“Di-Long!!”
Carrie was slipping into a pair of slacks and a lightweight sweater. Her movements were hurried and clumsy.
He turned away from the window.
“That guy sleeps like the dead,” he said. “Come on, Carrie. Let’s go over and wake him. Bring Junior.”
With Carrie carrying the baby, they walked along the path between the two squares of lawn, kept green by concealed sprinklers, over to the staff cabin.
Vic knocked on the door. They waited, feeling the sun now hot on their backs. Junior, blinking in the sunshine, doubled his fat hand into a fist and attempted to push it into Carrie’s eye, but she was used to this move and avoided the probing fist by a quick jerk of her head.
“I’m going in,” Vic said impatiently. “You wait here.”
He turned the door handle and the door yielded. He walked into the sitting room.
“Di-Long!”
There was no movement. A tap dripped steadily in the kitchen. There was no other sound.
Vic hesitated, then he crossed the room and pushed open the door that led into the bedroom which gave off a faint acrid smell and was in darkness. He groped for the light switch, found it and turned it down.
The small, neat room was empty. The single bed, against the far wall had been slept in. Vic could see the impression of Di-Long’s head on the pillow. The single sheet had been thrown aside: the bottom sheet was slightly crumpled.
He paused only long enough to satisfy himself that Di-Long wasn’t there, then he went into the kitchen. After a quick look round, he joined Carrie.
“He’s gone!”
Carrie visibly relaxed.
“You mean he stole the guns... and Bruno? Do you think that’s what happened?” she asked, holding Junior close to her.
“Could be.” Vic was puzzled, but now he also was relaxing. This seemed to be the solution to the mystery. “He wasn’t happy here. He adored Bruno. Yes... I guess that’s what he did. He probably got a pal of his to fetch him on the motor-cycle.”
“But the guns?”
“Yeah.” Vic ran his fingers through his hair and he frowned. After a moment’s thought, he went on, “You never know with these Vietnamese. He may belong to some secret society who need guns. Looks as if he put the phone out of order to get a clear start.”
“But how could he have taken all those guns on a motor-cycle... and Bruno?” Carrie asked.
“Maybe he’s taken one of the cars. I’ll go and see. Look, we’ll drive down to Pitt City. We’ll get the police up here. This is a job for them to handle.”
Carrie nodded. Vic was relieved to see she no longer looked frightened.
“I’ll get things ready for Junior. You get the car.”
Vic watched her walk quickly to the ranch house. He started towards the garage, then paused. A thought struck him. He went back to Di-Long’s bedroom. The closet in which Di-Long kept his clothes and his possessions stood against the wall to the left of the bed. Vic opened the doors. He looked at the three neat suits and the white uniforms that Di-Long kept immaculate. On one of the shelves was the electric razor that Vic had given Di-Long last Christmas. By its side was a Kodak camera Vic had also given him when Vic had changed to a Leica: two of Di-Long’s most treasured possessions.
Vic stood staring at these two articles, feeling his heart beginning to thump. Di-Long would never have left these behind unless something extraordinary had happened to have forced him to do so... but what could have happened?
Turning quickly, he walked with long strides to the garage and swung up the big door. The blue and white Cadillac and the Mercury estate wagon stood side by side. It was a relief to see them. He got into the Cadillac. The key was in the ignition lock and he turned it, then put his foot down on the gas pedal to start the engine. There was a whirring noise, but the engine didn’t fire. He tried three times to start the car, but the engine refused to fire. He got out of the car and crossed over to the estate wagon and attempted to start that. Again he was greeted with the whirring noise, and again this engine refused to start.
He got out of the estate wagon and wiped his sweating hands on the seat of his cotton pants. Then he opened the hood of the Cadillac. He had little knowledge of cars, but he saw at a glance that all the sparking plugs had been removed. A quick look at the estate wagon told the same story.
Someone had removed the plugs from both cars and they were now immobile.
Vic stood motionless in the big garage between the two useless cars. He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his face and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. If he had been alone, this situation would have been a challenge to him, but he kept thinking of Carrie and the baby and he felt frightened. What was going on? he asked himself. No Bruno, no Di-Long, no guns, no telephone and now no cars.
He suddenly remembered that Carrie was alone with Junior in the ranch house. He left the garage and with long strides he ran across the lawn.
He found Carrie in the bedroom, packing a small suitcase with baby things. She turned as he came into the bedroom and he paused. They looked at each other. He saw her stiffen. Her hand went to her mouth. He realized he must be looking pretty scared and he tried to control himself without much success.