‘Not much for a doctor,’ Greenway said. ‘Looks like the sort of place they dump defectors in-where nothing happens and nobody goes.’
He was right; the street wore an air of uniformity and dullness that didn’t seem to fit with the personality of Dr Krey as I remembered him. I recalled the vein bulging in his forehead and the sense of pressure building up in him like an overheated boiler. I imagined him living in a penthouse or a slum, not low-rent suburbia. I drove slowly past the house; no lights were showing but the tail end of a big white car protruded from the driveway on to the wide grassy strip-the street had no footpath.
Greenway leaned across me and squinted into the gloom. ‘Could be a Volvo.’
‘It is.’ I drove on to the end of the street and parked. Most of the houses had garages or carports but there were a few cars on the grass strip-kids’ bombs mostly but a few sedate sedans like mine.
I dabbed at my eye, found a torch in the tool bag and got out of the car. ‘You wait here.’
‘No!’
‘Shut up! D’you want people calling the cops? This is a nervous neighbourhood. You have to stay here to guard the documents and to give me a warning if anyone comes. Two honks, okay?’
‘Bullshit, no one’ll come.’
‘Just do as I say.’
I closed the car door quietly and walked along the grass. Although my footsteps were silent a few dogs growled in the backyards and some lights indicated late night movie watchers but I had the street to myself. I examined the car at No. 20. The Volvo was heavily laden with boxes, bundles and cases. Dr Krey was planning a trip. I moved cautiously towards the house. I could see now that there was a light at the back. I went into the garage and used my torch to locate its back door. This opened on to a bare patch with a trellis gate through to the backyard. No dog.
The house was quiet and I had a feeling that it was empty, the way you get a feeling after a few rings that no one is going to answer the phone. I’ve had the feeling often; sometimes I’ve been right and sometimes wrong. I had it once and walked in on three dead bodies. I tried the back door and it opened easily and quietly. That took me into a porch; the door to the kitchen was open. One light burned and the stove was warm. There was an oil heater with a red light glowing in the dark living room. I looked quickly into the two bedrooms, using the torch. Both empty and more or less stripped. One had been used as a study but all that was left were some newspapers. I stood in the front room smelling loneliness, frustration and fear. I moved the torch beam around carefully and saw something on the ledge above the built-in electric fire. I touched it and felt hard bristles and a soft backing-a false moustache.
Two honks sounded from the street. I switched off the torch and went to the window. Through the gap beside the blind I saw a burly man approach the house. He rested his hand proprietorially on the Volvo as he eased past it. Krey. He walked towards the front of the house. I took the. 38 from my belt and held it at my side. I heard Krey’s footsteps on the path.
Two honks again, longer this time and louder. More company.
18
I couldn’t see Krey now, he was too close to the house, but I saw his visitor-he wasn’t wearing his uniform whites anymore but, even in the badly lit street, I couldn’t mistake him-Pope, the rabbit killer. He seemed not to notice the car horn; he stood behind the Volvo, lifted his arm and levelled a pistol at Krey’s back.
I whipped up the blind and smashed the window. I yelled something and brought my gun out. Pope swore and fired. The bullet whanged into the door. I stuck my head out trying to get a better look and saw Krey crouched behind a bush near the front door. Pope’s attention was divided between his target and me.
‘Pope!’ I pointed the. 38 at him. ‘Drop the gun.’
Pope hesitated. There were two sharp reports; the windscreen of the Volvo shattered and Pope screamed and reeled back. His gun flew in the air and he collapsed in a heap. Krey remained in a crouch; he held Greenway’s short-barrelled Nomad, still pointing it at the car.
‘Dr Krey, put the gun down.’ It’s hard to achieve much authority speaking through a broken window and Krey ignored me. I moved across the room, through the passage and opened the front door. He was crouched four or five metres away now; he’d jumped like a rabbit towards the corner of the garage. His eyes were wide and staring; he saw me step from the house and he raised the gun.
‘Don’t shoot,’ I said. ‘No more shooting.’
Greenway appeared beside the car. ‘He’s got my gun.’ He looked down. ‘This man’s dead, I think.’
Krey moaned and moved the gun.
‘Doctor, stay calm. I’m a witness. Self defence.’
Krey raised the gun and rested it with the muzzle on his right temple.
‘No, Krey. Don’t!’
He stood stiffly and moved into the shadows, just inside the garage. The shots had brought people to their doors and gates. Noise was building in the street. Someone ran across the road and bent over Pope.
‘Greenway,’ I said. “Try to keep those people back. Tell someone to call the police.’ I tried to keep my voice low and unalarming but I could hear Krey moving, shuffling back further into the darkness. ‘I’m going to try to talk to him.’
‘Don’t come in!’ The voice was sharp and clear.
‘I won’t, doctor, don’t worry. There’ll be some people to help here soon.’
‘I’m beyond help, Hardy.’
‘That’s not true. Tell me about it. You hired Greenway, did you?’
He laughed softly. ‘You’ve got a pretty good therapist’s voice, Hardy, but it won’t do any good. Yes, I hired him. I knew something rotten was going on at Southwood.’
‘Operating on drug abuse patients?’
‘Yes. Smith-trying to make a name for himself, going after American research grants. Barbaric!’
‘Easy. Why didn’t you make a report, go through the proper channels?’
He didn’t reply and I edged forward to the corner of the garage. ‘I can hear you,’ he snapped. ‘Stay there! No one would believe me. I’ve got a record of… instability.’
‘What about Greenway?’
‘It wasn’t a very clever thing to do. I hired him to cause trouble. I thought Smith might make some sort of mistake.’
‘You were acting when you and Smith interviewed me? After Pope had knocked me out.’
‘Acting? Yes, yes.’
He sounded edgy as hell; I had to keep pushing him but it was hard to know how hard to push. ‘Annie Parker,’ I said softly. ‘You helped her get out of Southwood.’
‘I’m sorry about the girl. I lost track of her after she left the hospital. Then I followed you home and she turned up. I didn’t mean to hurt her. The morphine was too pure or… I don’t know. Something went wrong.’
‘What did she tell you?’
‘The patients are dead.’
‘Did she tell you that?’
‘She brought me to see it!’ His voice rose and shook. ‘They were guinea pigs! That thug Pope picked them up and brought them in like Jews to Belsen. They’re dead. I know it.’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ I heard cars in the street but thankfully no sirens. People were moving around and some of the voices carried to me. I hoped they didn’t reach Krey. I could feel waves of fear and despair coming from him through the darkness. ‘So you got the photographs back from Greenway and resigned your post. Look, it’s not so bad. You can get clear of this. The girl thought well of you; I’ve got her diary…”