If he died… he died! She dare not risk opening the cellar door. He had shown no mercy to her. Why should she show mercy to him? A blackmailer is the dirtiest thing on earth. Let him die! She would be free of him then forever! But she knew she was desperately trying to justify her action. She knew that it was only because she was exerting tremendous control over herself she wasn’t rushing to his aid.
He’s bluffing, she tried to assure herself. He’s unscrupulous, ruthless and an expert bluffer. She held her head in her hands. But was he bluffing?
Suppose, when Larry returned, they found Archer dead? The thought sickened her. What would they do? How would Larry react? She touched her dry lips with her tongue. If he died she would have to call a doctor. Would the news of his death travel fast? Would the Bank hear of it before they posted the letter? In the event of my death! They certainly wouldn’t post the letter to a dead man. They would act on his instructions and get a messenger to hand the envelope to Herman when he arrived at Geneva.
She struck her clenched fists together in an agony of indecision and despair. Getting to her feet, she opened the sitting-room door to listen.
Faintly, she could hear a sound on the lower panel of the cellar door. Irregular sounds, as if feeble fingernails were tapping on the panel.
“Helga… the tablets…” Archer’s voice was now so faint she could scarcely hear it. “The tablets.”
With her hands pressed to her ears, Helga blundered into her bedroom and threw herself face down on the bed.
The sound of the garage doors slamming shut startled her out of a sleep of exhaustion. Dazed, she scrambled off the bed. She was so unsteady she had to sit down abruptly on the bed or she would have fallen. She looked at her watch. The time was 03.10.
Had Larry returned?
She forced herself to her feet and stumbled out of the bedroom and into the hall. She looked fearfully at the cellar door, and then she went to the front door and opened it
By the porch light, she saw it was snowing heavily and the cold struck at her. She saw Larry coming towards her, holding the envelope she had given him.
It was only the steel in her that prevented her from bursting into tears of relief.
He came up the steps, chewing hard and smiling his warm smile.
“I got it, ma’am! Get inside and… you’ll catch cold.”
She stepped back, her knees trembling and she had to clutch hold of the door to prevent herself falling. He gave her a searching stare and then caught hold of her, pushing the front door shut.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I’m so glad you’re back.” Her voice broke and then the tears came and she leaned against him, shaking and sobbing.
“Hey, ma’am! What’s the matter? Did you…” He stopped as he saw the pole jamming the cellar door. “Did you have trouble?”
“Oh, God… yes!”
He lifted her off her feet and carried her into the sitting-room. Gently, he put her on the settee.
“What happened, ma’am? He didn’t get away?”
She fought to control herself and succeeded. As she dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, she said, “No… but, Larry… I - I think he’s dead.”
Larry took a step back. His look of concern changed to wide-eyed fright.
“Dead?”
She nodded.
“I nearly went out of my mind!” She beat her fists together. “He said he was having a heart attack.” She had to stop speaking to fight back her tears, then after a moment, she went on, “It was awful! He was moaning and calling to me! He wanted some tablets. I was too frightened to open the door to give them to him. Then he started knocking… and now… there’s no sound… nothing.” She shuddered, her face working. “I’m so frightened. I didn’t know if he was bluffing. I couldn’t let him out… could I?”
Larry stared at her. His face had turned chalk white and his eyes turned remote. After a long silence, he said huskily. “But you don’t know he is really dead?”
“No. Please go and see.”
He flinched and retreated further away from her.
“What will you do if he is dead?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought. For God’s sake, Larry, go and see!”
He retreated further away from her.
“I - I don’t like anything to do with dead people. No… I don’t want to do that.”
She understood and didn’t blame him. After all, she told herself was only an immature boy.
“We must know! I’ll go, but come with me, Larry. He may be bluffing and he might attack me. Will you come with me?”
Larry hesitated, then nodded.
“Sure, ma’am. I’ll come with you.”
Shaking, Helga went into the hall.
“I can’t move that.” She indicated the pole. “Will you try?”
Larry took hold of the pole in his huge hands, twisted and gave it a jerk. It came free. He laid it down along the wall, then catching hold of the chest, he dragged it away from the door which swung open.
Helga saw the lights were on in the corridor below. She moved to the head of the stairs and stood listening. She could only hear the steady roar of the motor, driving the central heating. Gathering her courage, she began to descend the stairs. Halfway down, she paused and looked back. Larry was standing at the top of the stairs, his face shiny with sweat. They looked at each other.
“Come with me,” she whispered.
He nodded and came down the stairs, then stopped. She went on and paused when she was in the corridor.
“Jack?” Her voice was so husky it was almost soundless. “Jack! Are you there?”
The silence that greeted her gripped her with a paralysing terror. She couldn’t bring herself to move forward. She remained motionless, staring down the long corridor at the shattered cellar door at the far end of the corridor and opposite, the games room: the door stood ajar. The other doors leading to the boiler room and to two more cellars were closed.
He must be dead, she thought hopelessly. He must be lying in the cellar. He must have crawled there. She fought off the terror that gripped her and the steel in her that never failed her stiffened her courage.
“Come with me!” she said, her voice hardening. “Larry! You’re in this as much as I am!”
Hesitating, Larry came down three more of the stairs and then stopped.
She went along the corridor, paused, then forced herself to look into the cellar. Except for the splinters of wood on the concrete floor, the cellar was empty. She turned and looked at the door, standing ajar, leading to the games room. She could see the room was in darkness. She saw Larry hadn’t moved. He was standing halfway down the stairs, sweat trickling down his face. She felt a sudden contempt for him. His fear increased her courage. She walked to the games room, threw the door open, groped for the light switch and turned it on.
With her heart hammering, she looked around the big room. There was no sign of Archer.
He couldn’t have escaped! 141
To convince herself she looked at the steel door at the far end of the corridor, leading to the garage. She could see from where she stood that the bolt of the lock was home.
There was another cellar and the boiler room in which Archer could be hiding or lying dead. She went to the boiler room and threw the door open. The door was near the bottom of the stairs, and as she turned on the light, Larry retreated up two stairs. She looked around. Again there was no sign of Archer. She was shaking again, and she turned to look at Larry.
Pointing to the second cellar door, she mouthed without speaking, “He’s in there… the other is locked.”
Looking scared, Larry stared blankly at her. Her silent mouthing conveyed nothing to him. She motioned him to come down into the corridor and reluctantly he did so. The unlocked cellar door opened outwards. She put a shaking hand on the door handle, turned it and flung the door open.
Archer came out like a charging bull. Helga was standing back, but Larry was directly in his path. Archer’s fist, thrust forward like a battering ram, thudded into Larry’s chest, with all Archer’s heavy weight behind it, sending him reeling. Larry tried to regain his balance as Archer rushed by him, but he went sprawling.