said curtly, ‘were talking about Mallory’s sister. When did she ring you?’
‘Oh, it was a long time ago. Soon after I met Mallory.’
Corridon thought for a moment, then asked, ‘Did she leave a telephone number?’
‘Why yes. I’d forgotten about that.’
‘What was it?’
She was quick to realise that this was something to bargain. ‘Couldn’t you spare a little more than ten pounds?’ she asked coaxingly. ‘You’ve no idea how broke I am...?’
‘What’s the telephone number?’ Corridon repeated.
Her face set in sullen lines.
‘I don’t remember.’
‘All right,’ Corridon said, shrugging. ‘You have five pounds I’ll keep the other five. He got to his feet. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I’ll be running along.’
‘You’re as hard as the rest of them,’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘Make it eight pounds and I’ll tell you.’
‘Five. Take it or leave it.’
She stared at him, trying to make up her mind whether he was bluffing or not, and as he put the five-pound note into his wallet, she said quickly, ‘All right. Wait here. I have it in an address book somewhere. I’ll get it.’
She had been gone from the room less than a minute, time enough for her to reach the stairs when he heard her wild, frantic scream. It ran through the silent house, a blood curdling sound that brought him to his feet and to the door before he could open it, the house shook to a tremendous crash in the hall. For a moment he stood motionless, his hand gripping the doorknob, his heart racing, then he jerked open the door.
She lay in a huddled heap at the foot of the stairs, her head bent back on her shoulder at a hideous and unnatural angle; one long naked leg jointed up the dark staircase like an accusing finger.
chapter six
I
A s Corridon paused outside his flat door, fumbling for his latchkey, a figure loomed out of the rain and darkness, moving silently on rubber-soled shoes and came towards him. Corridon spun round, his hand whipping inside his coat; the gun was half drawn when a voice said hurriedly, ‘It’s all right. It’s me — Ranleigh.’
‘What the hell are you playing at; sneaking up like that?’
Corridon demanded furiously, startled to find how jumpy he was.
‘I’ve been waiting hours for you,’ Ranleigh said. There was a strained note of anxiety in his voice. ‘I must talk to you.’
‘Well, all right,’ Corridon said curtly. ‘You’d better come in.’
He opened the front door and led the way up the steep stairs to the sitting room. As he pulled off his wet trench coat, he demanded, ‘What is it?’
In the hard light Ranleigh’s face looked white and drawn. Water dripped from his mackintosh on to the carpet.
‘They’ve killed Crew,’ he said huskily.
Corridon looked blankly at him. So much had happened since Crew’s death that it seemed to him unimportantly remote.
‘What of it? Have you only just found that out?’
‘You know then?’ Ranleigh passed his hand across his face. ‘It’s not in the papers yet, is it?’
‘Take that coat off. You’re making a hell of a mess,’ Corridon said impatiently. As Ranleigh unbuttoned his mackintosh, Corridon went on, ‘It’s not in the papers. She came here last night to tell me. The idea is if I don’t find Mallory she’s going to send the gun and the IOU to the police. The gun has my fingerprints on it and the IOU supplies the motive. Doesn’t she take you into her confidence?’
Ranleigh seemed dazed. He pulled off his mackintosh and dropped it on the floor.
‘It’s murder,’ he said in a stifled voice.
Corridon stared at him.
‘Of course it’s murder. What’s the matter with you? You planned to kill Mallory. That’s murder too. What’s the difference?’
Ranleigh slumped into an armchair as if his legs would no longer support him.
‘To have killed him like that. It’s unbelievable. She’s mad. They both are. What an utter fool I was to have had anything to do with
‘Oh, it was a long time ago. Soon after I met Mallory.’
Corridon thought for a moment, then asked, ‘Did she leave a telephone number?’
‘Why yes. I’d forgotten about that.’
‘What was it?’
She was quick to realise that this was something to bargain. ‘Couldn’t you spare a little more than ten pounds?’ she asked coaxingly. ‘You’ve no idea how broke I am...?’
‘What’s the telephone number?’ Corridon repeated.
Her face set in sullen lines.
‘I don’t remember.’
‘All right,’ Corridon said, shrugging. ‘You have five pounds I’ll keep the other five. He got to his feet. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I’ll be running along.’
‘You’re as hard as the rest of them,’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘Make it eight pounds and I’ll tell you.’
‘Five. Take it or leave it.’
She stared at him, trying to make up her mind whether he was bluffing or not, and as he put the five-pound note into his wallet, she said quickly, ‘All right. Wait here. I have it in an address book somewhere. I’ll get it.’
She had been gone from the room less than a minute, time enough for her to reach the stairs when he heard her wild, frantic scream. It ran through the silent house, a blood curdling sound that brought him to his feet and to the door before he could open it, the house shook to a tremendous crash in the hall. For a moment he stood motionless, his hand gripping the doorknob, his heart racing, then he jerked open the door.
She lay in a huddled heap at the foot of the stairs, her head bent back on her shoulder at a hideous and unnatural angle; one long naked leg jointed up the dark staircase like an accusing finger.
chapter six
I
A s Corridon paused outside his flat door, fumbling for his latchkey, a figure loomed out of the rain and darkness, moving silently on rubber-soled shoes and came towards him. Corridon spun round, his hand whipping inside his coat; the gun was half drawn when a voice said hurriedly, ‘It’s all right. It’s me — Ranleigh.’
‘What the hell are you playing at; sneaking up like that?’
Corridon demanded furiously, startled to find how jumpy he was.
‘I’ve been waiting hours for you,’ Ranleigh said. There was a strained note of anxiety in his voice. ‘I must talk to you.’
‘Well, all right,’ Corridon said curtly. ‘You’d better come in.’
He opened the front door and led the way up the steep stairs to the sitting room. As he pulled off his wet trench coat, he demanded, ‘What is it?’
In the hard light Ranleigh’s face looked white and drawn. Water dripped from his mackintosh on to the carpet.
‘They’ve killed Crew,’ he said huskily.
Corridon looked blankly at him. So much had happened since Crew’s death that it seemed to him unimportantly remote.
‘What of it? Have you only just found that out?’
‘You know then?’ Ranleigh passed his hand across his face. ‘It’s not in the papers yet, is it?’
‘Take that coat off. You’re making a hell of a mess,’ Corridon said impatiently. As Ranleigh unbuttoned his mackintosh, Corridon went on, ‘It’s not in the papers. She came here last night to tell me. The idea is if I don’t find Mallory she’s going to send the gun and the IOU to the police. The gun has my fingerprints on it and the IOU supplies the motive. Doesn’t she take you into her confidence?’
Ranleigh seemed dazed. He pulled off his mackintosh and dropped it on the floor.
‘It’s murder,’ he said in a stifled voice.
Corridon stared at him.
‘Of course it’s murder. What’s the matter with you? You planned to kill Mallory. That’s murder too. What’s the difference?’
Ranleigh slumped into an armchair as if his legs would no longer support him.
‘To have killed him like that. It’s unbelievable. She’s mad. They both are. What an utter fool I was to have had anything to do with
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