At this moment the door opened and Eddie, now prepared to deal with the situation, came in. His opening sentence died in his throat when he saw the stacks of dollar bills on the floor. He spotted the brief-case and he realized at once that this money belonged to Frank and Max. He also jumped to the conclusion that Frank’s money, anyway, was now Linda’s property, and what was Linda’s was, of course, his as well.
Carol turned quickly in her chair when she heard the door close, saw Eddie and recognized him. She remained still, her big green eyes watchful.
Eddie stirred the money with his foot, looked at her.
‘Know me?’ he asked, and smiled.
‘Get out,’ Carol said quietly.
Now sure of himself, Eddie lounged to the fireplace and propped himself up against the mantelpiece.
‘The police are looking for a dame who calls herself Mary Prentiss,’ he said, reached for a cigarette, lit it. ‘The charge is murder, and they have a good enough case, if they find her, to make it stick.’
‘Get out,’ Carol repeated, and her hands closed into fists.
‘They wouldn’t hang you. They’d put you away, sweetheart, for twenty years.’ He regarded the glowing end of his cigarette, glanced at her, went on: ‘You wouldn’t like prison life, you know. You’ve had a dose of asylum life, but they treat you tough in prison.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’ she asked, suddenly relaxing back in her chair.
‘Look, baby, we don’t have to wrap this up in cotton wool. Don’t try and bluff. I know you are Mary Prentiss because of that scar. You were the girl who agreed to be Prank’s companion, who took my money to keep him amused, and who engineered his death. I don’t know why you did it, but I can soon find out. You are also Carol Blandish, the millionairess, late of Glenview Mental Sanatorium. You and me are going to do a deal. I’m taking this money for a start, and then you’ll give me a certified cheque for half a million, otherwise I’m going to hand you over to the police. What do you say to all that?’
‘I don’t like you,’ Carol said, and her mouth twitched. ‘You’d better go.’
‘Don’t rush it, baby,’ Eddie said, and showed his big white teeth in a sneering smile. ‘I’m not going until you’ve paid up. Come on, get wise, I’ve got you where I want you, and there’s no wriggling out.’
She looked up at him, her eyes like holes burned in white paper.
‘Get out!’ she said violently, ‘and leave me alone.’
‘I’ll give you a couple of hours to think it over,’ Eddie said, a little startled. ‘But I’ll take this dough while I’m at it. It doesn’t belong to you.’
As he bent to pick up the money Carol snatched up the poker and struck at his head with all her strength.
Eddie had just time to drop flat. The poker missed his head but caught his shoulder, and the pain stunned him for a second or so.
But as Carol jumped to her feet he rolled clear and, cursing, swung his legs round, catching her a bang below her knees, bringing her down on top of him. He grabbed her arms, rolled her over on her back and pinned her to the floor.
‘Now, you hell-cat,’ he said viciously, ‘I’ll teach you to start something like this,’ and releasing one of her arms he slapped her heavily across her face.
It was a mistake to release her arm, for she struck back like lightning. Instinct rather than sight warned Eddie and he jerked back his head in time to save his eyes. Her finger-nails ploughed four deep scratches down his jaw, drawing blood. Before he could recover from the first shock of pain she was up and had darted to the door. He snatched at the skirt of her black silk dress, brought her up with a jerk, then the dress ripped and he lost his hold.
She reached the door, set her back against it, her hands behind her. As he got slowly to his feet he heard the key turn in the lock.
‘That won’t get you anywhere,’ he said, breathing heavily. Blood from the scratches dripped on to his white shirt-front. ‘Unlock that door or I’ll give you the hiding of your life.’
Carol removed the key, bent and slipped it under the door.
‘Now neither of us can get away,’ she said softly.
‘I’ll make you pay for this,’ Eddie said, not liking the cold, vicious expression on her face nor the burning light in her eyes. ‘I’m three times as strong as you and I’ll skin you if you start anything funny.’
She gave a soft metallic laugh which set his nerves tingling.
‘You’re afraid of me,’ she said, sidled across the room towards him.
‘Stay where you are,’ Eddie said sharply, and he remembered with a little chill what the newspapers had said about her. Homicidal... wildcat... dangerous.
But she came on, her hands hanging loosely at her sides, her eyes burning.
‘So you’re going to have me locked up,’ she jeered at him. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t like being locked up.’
Eddie backed away until he came up against the wall. She struck before he was properly set and her finger-nails, missing his eyes by a hair’s-breadth, slashed his cheek. Furious with pain, Eddie grabbed her, and for a minute or so they fought like animals. It was all Eddie could do to keep the flying finger-nails out of his eyes. Each time he grabbed at her wrists she evaded him, and although she did not reach his eyes, she scratched and tore at his face until it was a mask of blood.
Eddie hit her in the body, but she clung on to him. He got hold of her arms, twisted them behind her, turned her and threw her down on the bed. Her dress was ripped into shreds and he couldn’t hold her, his hands sliding off her smooth, slippery young body. She managed to turn and bite at his wrists, and as he lost his hold her knees came up and she kicked him away.
He jumped her before she could get off the bed, and by sheer weight flattened her.
‘I’ll teach you, you wildcat!’ he panted, and raised his fist to club her, but her hands flew up to his throat and he only just caught her wrists in time. They lay like that, their faces close, each struggling to exert sufficient strength to overpower the other.
She was stronger than he thought possible, and he could feel her cold fingers creeping up his neck towards his eyes again.
Panic now seized him and, releasing her, he sprang away, rushed to the door, turned as he heard her savage little cry. She came at him, her eyes blazing and her white face working. He grabbed up a chair and smashed it down across her shoulders so that the chair splintered in his hands.
She pitched forward, and as she was falling he hit her with all his strength on the back of her head. The chair-back snapped, I and he stood staring down at her limp body, a piece of the chair firmly clenched in his hand, blood running down his face, horror I in his eyes.
‘I’ve killed her!’ he thought and turned cold.
For almost a minute he stood staring down at her as she lay before him; practically naked above the waist; her face waxen, her black dress in shreds, one stocking down to her ankle. Her arms and neck were smeared with his blood. The sight of her turned him sick.
‘If the cops find her here,’ he thought wildly, ‘they’ll crucify me! They won’t believe I hit her in self-defence.’
Then he thought of Gus. Gus would have to get him out of this mess. If there was anyone who could do it — Gus was the guy.
He blundered to the telephone, and when Gus answered he gasped, ‘Come up here, quick!’ Then he flopped on to the bed and kept his eyes averted from the still figure on the floor.
After a while the rattle of a key in the lock aroused him, and he got unsteadily to his feet as Gus came in.
Gus stopped short, caught his breath sharply.
‘For God’s sake!’ he exclaimed, his eyes hardening. Then he came into the room, closed the door. ‘Is she dead?’