‘As soon as it’s dark we’ll move in,’ Max said, and stretched out in the long grass. ‘We can fix the guards easily enough.’
‘You mean we’ve got to kill them?’ Frank asked.
‘Depends,’ Max returned. ‘We’ve got to make a clean job of this. It could be our last job if we slip up on it.’
Frank said: ‘Let’s go some place and eat. I’m sick of watching this joint.’
It was growing dusk when Carol awoke, and she sat up with a start, an uneasy fear brooding over her. For a minute or so she couldn’t remember where she was and stared around the luxuriously furnished room with blank, frightened eyes. Then she remembered, and her mind darted to Steve, and she lay back in the big, comfortable bed with a little sigh of relief.
Everything that could be done was being done for Steve. He was out of danger now, but was still very weak. She hoped when she saw him again he would recognize her, and that her presence would help him get well.
And yet as she lay there, trying to relax, the uneasy fear still brooded over her; a presentiment of danger. But there could be no danger, she tried to assure herself. Magarth had told her that the Sullivans couldn’t possibly find Larson or her in this big, comfortable house. He had told her too that the house was guarded night and day. But so great was her fear of the Sullivans that she was willing to credit them with superhuman powers.
She lay for some time watching the dusk creep into darkness, and then suddenly she got out of bed, slipped on a wrap that Veda had lent her, and went to the window.
The big orange plantation spread out before her in the distance; the tree-heads a darkening blur; the golden fruit invisible now in the twilight. Immediately below was the broad terrace, where she could see one of the guards, pacing up and down, a rifle under his arm. From the terrace were steps leading to the sunken garden and the big lawns that stretched away to the rising ground, which in its turn dipped to the plantation.
She stood at the window, fear touching her heart, looking into the darkness, waiting for something she knew would happen.
While she waited the door opened and Veda came in.
‘Oh, you are awake?’ Veda said, seeing her at the window. ‘Shall I turn on the light or would you rather I didn’t?’
‘Please don’t,’ Carol said, her eyes still searching the darkening grounds.
‘Is anything frightening you?’ Veda asked gently, crossed the room to stand by Carol’s side.
‘There’s danger out there,’ Carol said, still as a statue.
‘Shall I call Phil?’ Veda asked, suddenly alarmed. ‘Shall I ask him to go and see—’
She broke off as Carol gripped her arm.
‘Look!’ she cried, and began to tremble. ‘Did you see? Over there by the trees.’
Veda stared into the darkness. Nothing moved, no sound came to her; even the wind was still.
‘There’s nothing,’ she said soothingly. ‘Come downstairs. It’s nicer down there.’
‘They’re out there... the Sullivans... I’m sure they’re out there!’ Carol cried.
‘I’ll tell Phil,’ Veda said as calmly as she could. ‘Now get dressed. I’ve put out clothes for you. I think they’ll fit you. Get dressed while I call Phil.’ She gave Carol a reassuring little pat on her arm, ran to the door. ‘And hurry,’ she added, ran to the head of the staircase. ‘Phil!’ she called.
Magarth came out of the sitting-room, stared up at her.
‘Anything up?’
‘Yes. Carol thinks the Sullivans have come.’ There was a slight tremor in Veda’s voice.
Magarth came up the stairs two at a time.
‘What makes her think that?’ he asked sharply.
‘She says she saw them. I don’t know if she did. I didn’t see anything... but she’s badly frightened.’
‘I’ll have a word with the guards. Get her dressed and bring her down to the sitting-room,’ Magarth said shortly, ran downstairs to find Staum.
Outside in the thickening darkness the Sullivans, like two black shadows, moved silently towards the house.
Magarth found Staum in the kitchen. He had just finished supper and was lying back in his chair, a satisfied, sleepy expression on his fat face. The maid, Marie, was preparing to go home, and while she put on her hat and coat she chatted to Staum.
Staum looked surprised when Magarth pushed open the kitchen door and came in. He straightened up in his chair.
‘Want me?’ he asked, getting to his feet.
‘Yeah,’ Magarth returned, and jerked his head to the door.
Staum followed him out into the corridor.
‘Your boys posted?’ Magarth asked.
‘Sure,’ Staum returned, frowning. ‘What’s up?’
‘Something may be. I want you and me to have a look round the grounds.’
‘For the love of Mike!’ Staum exploded. ‘I’ve just finished supper. Why can’t you take it easy for a while? You’re acting like a flea on a hot plate. If you’re still worrying about the Sullivans you’re wasting my time as well as yours. Don’t I keep telling you the Sullivans don’t exist? They’re just a bogey to frighten kids with.’
‘If you won’t take this business seriously I’ll call the Sheriff and have a change made here,’ Magarth said, suddenly angry.
Staum’s face reddened and his eyes glinted unpleasantly.
‘No one’s going to make a monkey out of me,’ he returned. ‘Maybe Kamp’s crazy, but I ain’t. I tell you the Sullivans don’t exist. A guy like you should know better than to be scared by a fairy story like that.’
‘If that’s the way you feel about it, the sooner you go the better,’ Magarth returned shortly.
‘I ain’t taking orders from a newspaper man,’ Staum said, although he began to look a little uneasy. ‘So long as I’m in charge here I’m going to be the boss.’
Magarth stepped past him to the telephone.
‘We’ll see what the Sheriff has to say,’ he returned, picked up the receiver. He stood for a moment with the receiver to his ear, then he frowned. ‘The line seems dead,’ he said, rattled the signal-bar, waited a moment or so, then hung up thoughtfully. ‘Now, I wonder...’
‘Go on, say it,’ Staum sneered. ‘You think the Sullivans have cut the line.’
‘It’s likely,’ Magarth returned, aware of a sudden tension gripping his nerves. ‘I want a gun, Staum,’ he went on abruptly. ‘If you’re not going to do your job, I’ll have to do it for you.’
‘Who said I wasn’t going to do my job?’ Staum said, flaring up. ‘You watch what you’re saying; and you don’t get a gun from me. You ain’t got a permit.’
Magarth controlled his rising temper.
‘This bickering won’t get us anywhere,’ he said. ‘Miss Banning saw two men out in the plantation just now. They scared her. Maybe they’re not the Sullivans, but at least we can go out there and see who they are.’
‘Why didn’t you say so before?’ Staum returned, led the way to the front door. ‘If there’re guys snooping about out there I’ll fix ’em.’ He added after a pause, ‘Think the telephone fine’s cut?’
‘Looks like it,’ Magarth said, worried. He followed Staum on to the terrace.
The lone guard, Mason by name, was lolling against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth, his gun held loosely in the crook of his arm.
‘Hi, George,’ he called when he saw Staum. ‘When do I get my supper?’
‘You’ll have it when I say so,’ Staum growled. ‘Seen anyone about?’
‘You mean the Sullivans?’ Mason asked. ‘Haw! Haw! No, I guess the Sullivans ain’t called just yet.’
‘The lady says she saw two men out in the plantation,’ Staum went on. ‘You been keeping your eyes peeled?’
‘You bet,’ the guard returned. ‘Ain’t seen a thing. Maybe the lady was dreaming.’