short and fat with close-cropped white hair. By the way he held the gun, I could see he knew how to use it.
“Okay,” I said quickly, “I'll be good.”
“Come away from there, lug,” he said. He'd got a very hoarse voice, as if his larynx had gone back on him. “Keep your hands up an' don't start any funny business.”
While this was going on a lot of noise was coming from downstairs. I've heard bad words in my time, but what came floating up from the darkness was enough to set the river on fire.
The fat guy said, “Stand with your mug against the wall. I'll drill you if you make a wrong move. Don't let me tell you twice.”
I did as I was told. It struck me that maybe I was in for a bad time. My only hope was that I'd put those other two out of action.
“You hurt, Gus?” the fat guy croaked, not taking his eyes off me. “Come on up... I've got the punk here.”
The only reply to this was another flow of blasphemy. That guy down there certainly knew all the bad words. The fat guy was in a spot. He didn't like to detach himself from me, but at the same time I guess he was itching to get down there and find out if the other two were badly hurt. There was only one obvious thing for him to do, and it didn't take him long to work it out for himself.
Although I was expecting it, I didn't expect a guy of his size to move so quickly. I managed to get my head rolling, but I didn't get started fast enough. The butt of his gun bounced on my head, and I slipped off the rim of the world.
CHAPTER TEN
FAINTLY, IN SOME bottomless pit, I could hear a woman screaming. I didn't care much, until the screams got louder, then I wished she would stop.
I opened my eyes and looked round. The flickering light of a candle that seemed to be floating above my head worried me, and I shut my eyes again. The woman who had been screaming had stopped. I thought that was a good thing. I tried to move my hands, but I found I was unable to do so. I began to take an interest in myself.
I opened my eyes again. Then I remembered. It was like having a pail of water tossed in my face. I tried to sit up, but they'd tied me. My head ached, but every second it was getting clearer. I always did say my skull was tough.
I was lying on the floor with my hands knotted behind my back with some thin twine that cut into my wrists. It hurt like hell.
Above me a solitary candle burnt. It was stuck on the mantelshelf, and its light sent dancing shadows round the room.
Cautiously I pulled myself up into a sitting position. The blood drummed in my head and I had to shut my eyes and take it easy for a bit. Then I got on to my knees and climbed to my feet. They hadn't tied my legs. I took a few steps up and down the room, to get my circulation working. In a minute or two, but for a headache, I was feeling fine.
Just then the door opened and the tall, thin guy walked in. He came in with a little limp, and he stood just inside the door and looked at me.
“H'yah, Gus,” I said, “I thought you'd broken your neck.”
In the flickering light Gus would scare most people. He'd got a completely flat face with small eyes and a little screwed-up mouth. The bones of his face seemed to be doing their best to burst through his lead-coloured skin. The bridge of his nose had been surgically removed.
He came into the room and shut the door. He shut the door very slowly and deliberately. I had a feeling that he and I were not going to hit it off.
He said, “I've got a way with wise guys.” His voice had the whine of a run-down gramophone. “You won't be so snotty when I've been through you.”
I moved slowly away from him. “Now don't do anythin' your ma wouldn't like to hear about,” I said. “Suppose you an' I talk things over.”
I was putting a lot
“Okay,” I said quickly, “I'll be good.”
“Come away from there, lug,” he said. He'd got a very hoarse voice, as if his larynx had gone back on him. “Keep your hands up an' don't start any funny business.”
While this was going on a lot of noise was coming from downstairs. I've heard bad words in my time, but what came floating up from the darkness was enough to set the river on fire.
The fat guy said, “Stand with your mug against the wall. I'll drill you if you make a wrong move. Don't let me tell you twice.”
I did as I was told. It struck me that maybe I was in for a bad time. My only hope was that I'd put those other two out of action.
“You hurt, Gus?” the fat guy croaked, not taking his eyes off me. “Come on up... I've got the punk here.”
The only reply to this was another flow of blasphemy. That guy down there certainly knew all the bad words. The fat guy was in a spot. He didn't like to detach himself from me, but at the same time I guess he was itching to get down there and find out if the other two were badly hurt. There was only one obvious thing for him to do, and it didn't take him long to work it out for himself.
Although I was expecting it, I didn't expect a guy of his size to move so quickly. I managed to get my head rolling, but I didn't get started fast enough. The butt of his gun bounced on my head, and I slipped off the rim of the world.
CHAPTER TEN
FAINTLY, IN SOME bottomless pit, I could hear a woman screaming. I didn't care much, until the screams got louder, then I wished she would stop.
I opened my eyes and looked round. The flickering light of a candle that seemed to be floating above my head worried me, and I shut my eyes again. The woman who had been screaming had stopped. I thought that was a good thing. I tried to move my hands, but I found I was unable to do so. I began to take an interest in myself.
I opened my eyes again. Then I remembered. It was like having a pail of water tossed in my face. I tried to sit up, but they'd tied me. My head ached, but every second it was getting clearer. I always did say my skull was tough.
I was lying on the floor with my hands knotted behind my back with some thin twine that cut into my wrists. It hurt like hell.
Above me a solitary candle burnt. It was stuck on the mantelshelf, and its light sent dancing shadows round the room.
Cautiously I pulled myself up into a sitting position. The blood drummed in my head and I had to shut my eyes and take it easy for a bit. Then I got on to my knees and climbed to my feet. They hadn't tied my legs. I took a few steps up and down the room, to get my circulation working. In a minute or two, but for a headache, I was feeling fine.
Just then the door opened and the tall, thin guy walked in. He came in with a little limp, and he stood just inside the door and looked at me.
“H'yah, Gus,” I said, “I thought you'd broken your neck.”
In the flickering light Gus would scare most people. He'd got a completely flat face with small eyes and a little screwed-up mouth. The bones of his face seemed to be doing their best to burst through his lead-coloured skin. The bridge of his nose had been surgically removed.
He came into the room and shut the door. He shut the door very slowly and deliberately. I had a feeling that he and I were not going to hit it off.
He said, “I've got a way with wise guys.” His voice had the whine of a run-down gramophone. “You won't be so snotty when I've been through you.”
I moved slowly away from him. “Now don't do anythin' your ma wouldn't like to hear about,” I said. “Suppose you an' I talk things over.”
I was putting a lot
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