Chapter 12

Sullen, defiant, angry, Jim Payne sat in an anteroom in the police station, a crowded room in that it was occupied by eleven people, including a Sergeant Bohls who had functioned with amazing energy over a twenty-four hour period.

"You gentlemen will remain here," he said. "The ladies will view the suspects alone."

Bohls was a middle-aged man with thick white hair and a lot of crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. They were hard eyes and they dared any of the husbands to object None did.

"There will be seven men in the .line-up," he said. "They are not all criminals. The ones under suspicion were picked up under doubtful circumstances around town. If our man is in the line, I'm sure you ladies will be happy to point him out to us."

The wives were as quiet and subdued as the husbands, but Jim thought he detected a difference. There was no anger, in them. Their other emotions, whatever they were, did not stand out as prominently as did those of the men.

Laurel had spoken hardly a word since Sergeant Bohls had appeared at the door that morning. Her initial agitation had been marked, but then she'd settled into a sort of apathy and he hadn't been able to communicate with her.

"We'll go now," Bohls said. "Please file out this door."

The five watched Bohls superintend the reluctant exit. They had had only the briefest of contacts prior to this summons and they were all waiting to get their verbal teeth into that fink, Tom Weathers. All this was his fault. He'd double-crossed them. It would be hard to keep from working him over.

But they were not afforded even the luxury of verbal castigation, because, as Sergeant Bohls left, a uniformed policeman entered, closed the ,door, and stood against it with his arms folded.

Jim voiced his disappointment. "What the hell. Are we prisoners or something?"

Speaking with dead-pan gravity, the uniformed man said, "On the contrary, sir. You are our guests."

Then he lapsed into silence and stared meditatively at the wall.

Jim folded his arms and slumped back into his chair. There was nothing to do but wait. The tension mounted. Jim wondered how Laurel was taking the thing. She'd looked tight and tense as she'd filed out of the room.

Laurel had been tight and tense. She had been close to panic. What if they did have Lee in the line-up? Would she be able to stand it seeing him pointed out, thrown into a cell, treated like the most contemptible of criminals?

But this dread was nothing to what hit her after they'd been taken to a room with a large glass window, told to watch the platform beyond the glass, and been briefed on elementary procedure

"The men will mount the platform from the end on your left. They will stand against the wall and you will be given plenty of time to study them."

This was the terrible moment-when a door opened and the men filed in.

And Lee was the one who came first.

He'd been picked up! He was in the hands of the police!

Laurel wanted to look at her four companions. How would they react? Which of them would be the first to identify Lee?

But she could not do this. She could only stare at the platform on the other side of the glass and pray; pray as her world collapsed around her; as she visualized what would take place in the days to come. The indictment. The trial. Lee going behind bars.

Lee taken from her.

Desperately, she tried to hold her mind on the things of the moment. She realized there had been a long silence but now it was broken by the quiet, relentless voice of Sergeant Bohls.

"And now I ask you, is the man who attacked you in that line-up?"

No one spoke. Again the silence.

"Mrs. Lovell, is the man who attacked you in the line?"

Caron was seated beside Laurel. Laurel turned to look at her. The light was dim and she could not see Caron's face.

But she heard her voice: "No. He isn't there."

And then Laurel sat through what seemed to her a miracle.

"Mrs. Weathers?"

Alice's voice after a frightening pause. "No no, I don't see him there."

Hope flared for Laurel. Tom had been the one who'd gone to the police. So if Alice refused to identify Lee, then perhaps the rest would-

"Mrs. Bevins, do you see the man?"

Grace's voice was little more than a whisper. "No. I don't see him."

"Mrs. Watts?"

"He isn't there."

Sergeant Bohls was being stubborn. He would carry it out to the end. "Mrs. Payne?"

Laurel answered promptly and clearly, hoping that her joy did not reflect in her reply:

"The man who attacked me isn't there."

She heard Bohls' sigh of disappointment. Then he spoke into a microphone that carried through the heavy glass panel. "You can let them go, Mike."

The men filed off the platform. And perhaps merely to make conservation, Bohls said, "The men in the center two of them were police officers."

Laurel's heart sang. If she'd known that, she would have pointed out the one who hadn't shaved as her attacker. He looked as though he might not be above dragging a girl into the park and taking what he wanted.

They were back in the small room. The faces of five husbands asked the same silent question.

Bohls answered it indirectly. "We'll notify you when further suspects are taken into custody."

That was all he said but his attitude was eloquent. He didn't like this group. He thought that men who did not report criminal attacks upon their wives to the police were not good citizens. But there was nothing he could do about it, and he watched them file out.

The group broke up quickly on the sidewalk outside the police station. The men went directly to their various jobs, and Caron and Laurel, going in the same direction moved off together.

"I haven't seen much of you, Laurel," Caron said. "I called a couple of times, but you weren't home."

"I've been very busy," Laurel said. She wished that Caron had gone home alone. She wanted to be alone, herself, with her thoughts.

She would have preferred, had it been possible, to stay near the station in the hope that she could see Lee after they released him. Now, she wanted to get home in case he phoned her. It had been such a shock, seeing him on that platform. She wanted to know what had happened why they had picked him up.

"Nobody identified him," Caron was saying. "Isn't that surprising?"

"Why didn't you identify him?"

"Oh, I couldn't. I just couldn't! I'd have died, going to court telling the details in front of people."

"I understand what you mean."

"Do you think it was the same with the others?"

"I imagine so."

She did not believe this, though. That couldn't have been true with all of them. There had no doubt been some influence from the husbands; discussions at home the night before. Nothing had been said in the Payne apartment because she herself had refused to discuss it with Jim. And Tom Weathers certainly hadn't wanted Alice to withhold identification.

Laurel found herself getting angry as she thought of Alice. And jealous. That little tramp! Lying down for any man who got her alone. She was no doubt hopins Lee would come back for a second visit.

Well, she was going to be disappointed. She would never see Lee aaain. Not if Laurel had any say.

Laurel heard Caron's voice. "Would you like to stop off somewhere for a cup of coffee?"

"What? Oh-no, honey. I think I'll go right on home. I've got a headache. The police station and all that."

"Then I'll call you and we'll get together."

"Do that," Laurel said heartily, and hurried on her way.

Lee called an hour later, and Laurel had never known such joy as she experienced from the sound of his voice.

"Oh, darling, you're so sweet to call. I've been frantic."

"I thought you'd probably be worried."

"Where are you?"

"In a phone booth. I was just released."

"How did it happen?"

"I was walking near Blueside Park rather late. A patrol car went by. I wasn't aware that any complaint had been made at the time, or I'd have been more careful. It turned out to be a general roundup of late-night loiterers. A drag-net operation."

"I almost died when I saw you on that platform."

"I couldn't see through the glass but I knew you were there. I could visualize you."

"The others were there, too."

"I couldn't visualize them, though. They were only blanks. They all had blank faces."

"When will I see you, darling?"

"Soon. This has changed everything. We must make new plans."

"Jim has been impossible."

"Does he know about us?"

"He knows there is someone. He doesn't know who you are."

"You will divorce him?"

"Of course. I want to be with you."

"Perhaps it would be better if we stayed apart until the divorce is over.

"That shouldn't be necessary. I'll go to Reno. I don't want to be separated from you, though."

"Nothing is holding me here."

"Then let's go soon."

"How soon?"

"I can pack my things and meet you tonight."

"I don't think it would be a good idea for me to go so soon after the police station thing. They might be watching me."

"But the witnesses didn't identify you."

"I think Bohls is suspicious. He thinks there was a conspiracy."

Laurel laughed. "He was so right."

"He's a smart man."

"How soon then, darling?"

"I think you should go to Reno alone. I'll follow in a few days."

"I'm afraid. What if you never came? What if something happened? I'd be out there all alone."

"Nothing will happen."

"All right. Whatever you say, darling. When do you want me to leave."

"Will you tell Jim?"

"No. There would only be a scene. I'll leave him a note."

"Why don't you plan it for tomorrow.? He can find the note when he gets home from work after you're safely on a plane."

"When will you come?"

"Next week."

"Can't I see you before I go?"

"Would that be wise?"

"I'd just as soon be out in the evening. Being here with Jim and knowing you're alone is maddening."

"Then come tonight."

The spell of him moved to her even over the wire, it seemed. Her voice turned husky and languorous. "Darling. I want you. I want you right now. If I were there, you know what we'd be doing, don't you?"

"That's not fair. Stop reminding me."

She laughed. "I wouldn't have any clothes on."

"I think you're a sensualist," he said.

The sound of his voice was enough to raise Laurel's spirits. The recollection of his touch and the excitement she felt when he was close to her sent the blood singing in her veins.

"Only for you, darling. What are you going to do this afternoon?"

"I'm going to stay in out of harm's way."

"Suppose I come over for just a little while."

"I have to go out later," he said. "To see another woman?"

"To see a man about money. I've got to transfer my account out of the city or we'll find ourselves broke and destitute after we leave."

"How about just a couple of hours? I can't stand talking to you this way and not being with you."

"If we talk any longer I won't be able to, either."

There was gay mockery in her laughter. "Am I having any visible effect on you?"

"Why don't you come over and find out?"

"I'll be right over, darling," she said. Then she laughed again and added. "Don't leave before I get there."

"You'll have to hurry," he replied.

Jim Sayres hadn't been satisfied. There'd been something radically wrong at the police station. He hadn't been able to put his finger on it, but when the five women returned to the anteroom, he'd sensed something.

He was certain they'd seen their man.

But if the cop was satisfied that they hadn't, there was little Jim could have done about it.

He tried to hide his feelings, but he would have liked not hit'! ! , better than to have cornered Laurel and put on the pressure. She gave him no chance, however, hurrying away with Caron Lovell without even a word to him.

He watched her as she hurried off up the street and her haste struck him as unnatural. This bothered him. He mulled it over in his mind as he returned to the office.

It still bothered him when he got there and after a few minutes of trying to concentrate on his work, he gave it up and beaded for home. It would be best to have this thing out with Laurel once and for all.

But he never reached the apartment building because as he rounded the corner from the bus stop, he saw Laurel coming out. She turned in the other direction or she would have seen him. He was about to call out, but he changed his mind. Again there was that haste on her part. She strode along, looking neither left nor right, as though she was late for an appointment.

It was the easiest thing in the world for Jim to fall in behind and start trailing her.

She started looking around then, obviously hunting for a cab. And fortunately for Jim, she did not find one until she got to Pratt Boulevard, two streets over, where cabs were in abundance. So he hailed one of his own and fell in behind her

The driver reacted more with amusement than suspicion as Jim asked him to follow the cab ahead, and there wasn't anything particularly dramatic about the chase. Both cabs rolled sedately into the poorer section of the city and when the one in front stopped outside of a shabby brownstone, Jim's driver stopped a half a block away, turned and grinned.

"Okay?"

"Okay," Jim replied. He felt a little foolish.

Jim paid the fare and gave the driver a dollar tip.

"Good luck," the driver said.

"Thanks."

The cab rolled away, the driver still grinning, and Jim approached the brownstone. He entered and found that what had originally been the front hall of a family dwelling was now an outer foyer with a lock on the door that was obviously supposed to work but didn't.

He opened the door and looked inside. The inner hallway was deserted. A narrow stairway led upward into the dimness of a mysterious second floor.

Jim mounted the stairs, his nerves taut. Expecting every moment to be challenged, he reached the top and saw six doors, three on either side, of a reverse hallway that ran the length of the building.

From where he stood, at the head of the stairs, he could hear faint voices.

As Jim Payne contemplated the upper hallway of the shabby brownstone, Laurel, in the far room on the left, clung passionately to Lee Windsor. Their mouths were pressed together in a sensuous attempt to feed the strange, exotic hunger that gripped them.

"Darling." Laurel sighed. "When I'm not with you I'm only half a person. Hold me. Closer, closer."

He lifted her and carried her to the bed and forced her backward across it.

"This is some kind of a madness," he said huskily. "A vast hunger I can't satisfy."

"We" can't satisfy," Laurel said. "Your arms, darling. I want them around me. I made everything easy for you. I didn't wear "

His mouth stopped her and she pressed her feet against the floor, arching her body to meet him.

"Hurt me!" she whispered fiercely, "so I'll know this isn't a dream."

Then she gritted her teeth against the pain she'd asked for and again her nails clawed at his back. The mouth she pressed against his ear was eager, as she teased him. Her hips strained and jerked violently.

"Like that?" he asked.

"Yes. like that. But more more. Then let me do the other thing."

They made love in frantic silence and when they were finished and they lay exhausted, Laurel said. "That should be enough for a week." Again the slightly hysterical laugh. "At least a week. But that's not enough; that will last me only a few hours. Until I'm here again tonight."

"Tonight," he said, "there'll be more."

"Do you know what I'm thinking of."

"What?"

"When you get to Reno after you follow me."

"What then?"

"We'll go to bed. We'll make love and sleep and wake up and make love again. We'll order our breakfasts and dinners sent up and we'll keep on making love as long as we want to...."

"That would be forever, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes-but what will I do while I'm waiting for you?"

"Shall I show you?"

"No, not now. But I wouldn't. I couldn't. Only you can do that. I'd be cheating."

"You'd better go now."

"I'll be back at ten o'clock. You'll be here."

"Yes.

She laughed shakily. "We're like children. We've lost all sense of responsibility. Will we always be that way?"

"Let's hope so."

He lifted a light blanket from where it had fallen on the floor, and wrapped that around her carefully and tenderly, moving her around like an obedient, life-sized doll.

"You mustn't catch cold," he said.

"I stay warm thinking of you."

She left ten minutes later, slipped down the dirty stairway that had become her ladder to heaven; out into the street that was bleak and empty without Lee; back to the apartment that was now a kind of prison. But on the way, she stopped to phone him: "Darling, I had to call to tell you what I'm thinking about.

"The woods. That first time. After you'd whipped me over the rocks and we found the glade. That first time."

"You're a sensualist."

She laughed and went on and found that Jim wasn't home yet. She was glad.

The evening paper that carried an account of the affair hit the stands about three o'clock that afternoon with an early edition. The headline read: RAPIST SOUGHT IN POLICE DRAGNET.

The story, carefully written so as to avoid any possible libel suits, went on to call the case strange. It hinted subtly at a possible scandal and outlined the peculiar pattern involved attacks against a group of wives who were acquainted with each other and mixed socially.

This might have been forgotten by the public but the story told of the group visit to the station, five couples grimly trying to find the man who had systematically raped five wives. They fancifully hinted at deep motives, without the least idea that they existed, and called the mysterious rapist a possible avenger.

But worst of all, they printed five names and addresses. Thus, they casually ruined five couples . .

Lovell arrived home at six o'clock to find Caron hysterical.

"The phone! It's been ringing and ringing! Men making dirty remarks. They call and laugh and say wicked things! Frank, what are we going to do?"

The phone rang at that moment. Lovell picked it up, broke the connection, and left the receiver beside the phone.

"What are we going to do?" he asked. "I'm going to find a new iob for one thing. I've been fired."

"Oh, Frank ! "

"McElroy called me in. He was so damned diplomatic! So damned polite! Sympathetic as hell, but he said he thought it best for all concerned if we severed relations. He had a check for two month's pay all ready for me."

Lovell spoke in a tone of bitter frustration. Then his voice turned savage. "Tom Weathers! That stupid louse. It was his fault! He ruined all of us!"

Frank lunged at the phone and dialed viciously. "I'll tell the rat!"

But he slammed the phone down again. "Busy!" he raged. "I hope they keep him up all night with their damned obscene phone calls."

"What are we going to do, Frank?"

"Move Get out of town. What else?" He laughed bitterly. "I don't think the landlord will hold us to our lease. He's probably got a check for our deposit made out already."

"Or, Frank! I'm so miserable."

He changed again, drawing her close. He held her tenderly. "Don't worry, honey. There are a lot of other cities in this country. I'm a good accountant. We'll make out all right...."

Tom Weathers' phone hadn't been busy. It too had been off the hook. Tom sat staring at it, moodily sipping a drink.

"A hell of a thing." he muttered. "A hell of a thing."

Alice was viewing things in a more practical manner. "We're going to have to leave this apartment."

"We'll have the phone changed, get an unlisted number."

"That won't be enough."

"Why not?

"Because every degenerate in town knows our name and address. I'd be afraid to open the door for fear there'd be a man there waiting to grab me. We've got to leave."

"All I did was what any good citizen would do."

"All right, but that doesn't matter now. If you're called to City Hall to receive a good citizen's medal, you'll go alone. I won't be with you."

"It's a hell of a thing."

"You said that. It doesn't help a bit. Do you know what I'm going to do?"

His eyes questioned sullenly.

"I'm getting out of town. I'm taking a vacation. I'll go to that 'lace in Maine where we roughed it three years ago. They take unattached women without raising their eyebrows."

"How long will you stay?"

"I don't know." Alice's shoulders drooped, showing that her defiant front had been a conscious effort. "I may never come back, Tom. Maybe I'll just stay there where it's peaceful and grow old..."

Things were no better in the Clete Watts residence. Clete came home early and found Betty in tears.

"That phone. It's been ringing all afternoon."

As in the Lovell household, it rang as the man of the house glanced at it. But Clete reacted more violently. He strode across the room and picked it up and jerked the cord out of the wall. He threw the phone on the floor.

"I can't go back to the plant," he said. "Why not?"

"Why not? Because they look at me like a cuckolded husband. They talk behind their hands. They're very polite to my face and then they laugh at me behind my back."

"It will die down."

"When? Next month? Next year? And what about you? Aren't you ashamed to be seen in the neighborhood? Aren't you aware of the fact that men are going to proposition you on the street?"

"Maybe one, or two, but I'll carry a hatpin. I promise you it won't get to be a custom propositioning Betty Watts."

"That's fine, but what do you suppose my chances of advancement are now?"

"I don't know. What are they?"

"Nil. They don't exist. We go somewhere and start over."

"If that's the way it is, you don't want the old job if that's the kind of people they are."

"That's academic. It doesn't matter now. We've got to leave the city."

"All right, if you think it's best. Where will we go?"

"I don't know. I've got to think. But first, I want a drink. Then maybe I can get my mind off that damned, informer, Tom Weathers."

"I need a drink, too," Betty said. "I'll pour a couple of doubles."

"Start with two, we'll go on from there..

Mike Bevins held Grace in his arms and let her cry. The phone had been disconnected at the central office in response to an emergency call from Mike.

"It's all right, honey. Take it easy. Everything will work out all right."

"The calls," she sobbed. "The things those men said."

"I know. But you won't have to listen to any more of them. I'm going to sue that damned newspaper!"

"You don't have to bear the brunt," Grace said. "You go to work. You take your trips and go where nobody knows about this."

"Uh-huh. And that's exactly what we're going to do. The two of us. We're going on a trip. I'll stick to road work exclusively for as long as necessary."

"You'll take me?"

"Of course." He lifted her face and smiled and he kissed the tip of her nose. "We'll make a vacation out of it. Why, I'm in a position to go as far as Hawaii, if we want and charge it to the company. In fact they'd be happy if I went to Hawaii and took a survey of possibilities."

"And I can go with you! That would be wonderful, Mike."

"In fact, all this is a break, if we look at it that way. We might never have thought of a vacation."

Grace snuggled against him. "Frank," she whispered. "I love you very much. I want to be with you all the time. Never let me get far away from you again."

"You never will, baby."

Grace sighed. Things would work out. She would make things work out. She would keep her eyes off other men and look at none of them.

It would work she hoped.

Laurel wasn't bothered greatly by the phone calls. After the second man called and suggested he drop over and perform a degenerate act for her benefit, Laurel left the receiver off and waited for Jim to come home.

She filled the time by checking over her clothes and planning what she would take with her. She did not call for reservations for fear there would be a return call before she was ready for Jim to find out she was leaving him.

She spent some time framing the note she would write, but gave that up too when she couldn't put her mind to it.

And still, Jim did not come home.

Six o'clock, seven, eight with no sound of a key in the lock.

Finally. Laurel could stand to wait no longer. She put on her hat and coat and slipped out the back way for fear of meeting him in the street in front of the building.

Once clear,of the neighborhood, she waved down a cab and gave the driver Lee's address.

She found Lee reading a copy of the evening paper, "This has become a real mess," he said.

"Terrible. But that won't affect us, darling. Very soon, we'll be far away."

"What did Jim say?"

"He didn't come home. I waited and waited, and then I just had to get out of the place."

"Did you get any calls?"

Laurel laughed. With Lee close beside her, she couldn't remain in low or apprehensive spirits. "I got two. Both were from men. They wanted to take your place, darling. The last one described in detail exactly how he would go about making me twist in ecstasy on the floor."

"Sound interesting."

"But darling," she said, kissing his ear. "You do so much better than he possibly could have."

"Thank you."

She nuzzled his cheek. "How about showing me that I'm right?"

He pulled her to his arms. "Without a doubt, you're the world's most hopeless sensualist."

"As long as you keep me satisfied, I'll be fine."

Their mouths pressed together, and during the long kiss their positions changed. They had been sitting on the edge of the bed but when they drew their lips apart, they were on the floor in the middle of the room with Laurel looking into Lee's face.

"I think I'll rape you," she said.

His hands moved down her back. "I rape easily, lady."

"Some day I'm going to get a whip and beat you the way you beat me."

"I promise to yell satisfactorily."

Their light mood deepened, Laurel's eye lids drooped as the delicious anticipation made her nerves tingle.

"We've got too many clothes on," she whispered.

"All right, let's do something about that."

"You first." She fumbled with his shirt buttons.

They got up from the floor, and stood facing each other, their hands busy. But passion welled swiftly and soon they were clawing at each other, tearing impeding garments away.

"Hurry, hurry." Laurel breathed. "I can't wait!"

He ripped her panties off.

"Take me! Now! Fast! Don't tease me. You can tease me afterward, but right now I want you to take me."

He threw her savagely to the floor and paused only for the scantest of seconds before he lustfully, hungrily, took her.

She cried out.

But her satisfaction never arrived, because at that moment, the dream turned into a nightmare. There was a crash of splintering wood. Then a louder sound a thundering that filled the room and repeated itself again and again.

Lee's eyes, looking into hers, widened. His mouth twisted. Where there had been passion there was now agony. The thunder became echoes. The agony glazed over. And Lee dropped down beside her, a dead, inert weight.

Now, nothing was real. Nothing but a fantastic imagery seen far away in the center of a whirlpool that went around and around.

"Get up."

She pushed the naked body away from her own and rose, stunned, to her feet.

Jim stood there. But not the Jim she'd known. This Jim had a fixed, unfocused look in his eyes. There was a gun in his hand. He appesJfed to be stunned also, but he moved. He turned and closed the door and braced a chair under the knob.

Laurel stared dully. She looked at the gun and then down at Lee. "You killed him.

"Why don't you kill me?"

"No. lust him."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and they paid no attention to sounds from the outside.

She raised her eyes to the door and he said, "Don't worry. Nobody will come in. They'll just call the police."

Laurel felt there should be panic and hysteria in her, but there was not. Everything was moving in slow motion. Even the words they spoke seemed to come out sluggishly and run down like molasses.

"How did you know?" Laurel asked.

"I followed you this afternoon. I came here and listened through the door."

"You heard him taking me?"

This was crazy, crazy, crazy. When Jim said yes, his tone was no different than if she'd asked him if he wanted a cigarette.

"Why didn't you break in then?"

"I don't know. I heard you say you'd be back. I guess I wanted to wait until I could buy a gun. I don't know."

There had been a timid knocking on the door and a muffled question, but after that, nothing.

"They're calling the police," Jim said.

Laurel looked at the dead body on the floor. That was all it seemed to be. Where was the passion? Where was the love? She could not feel anything any more. Maybe later that would all come back and shape into the agony of loneliness, but now everything was gone.

"We ought to put his clothes on," she said.

"No. Leave him as he is."

"But-"

"No buts about it, let him be." She looked at her own nakedness. "May I dress myself."

"Yes."

She gathered up her garments while he watched. Slowly, she pulled them on.

"Everything will come out now," she said. "Yes."

"You'll be tried for murder."

"I won't be convicted."

"You can't be sure."

"No, of course I can't."

He shook his head like a fighter shaking cobwebs from his brain. "I'm sorry I did it now."

"It's too late to be sorry."

"I hated him. I wanted to see him dead. He deserved it."

"Nobody deserves to be murdered."

"But I don't hate him any more. And there's no satisfaction." He looked at Laurel dully. "Isn't that remarkable? You hate a man enough to kill him and then you find there's no satisfaction."

Laurel stepped into her skirt.

"Were you in love with him?" Jim asked.

"I don't know. I think I was. We had a fantastic sensual relationship."

He nodded as though he understood. "They'll put me away. What will you do?"

"I don't know."

"I can't kill myself. I wish I could, but I simply can't."

Laurel did not answer. She knew that before long, things would snap. This odd emotional back water they were in would not hold them indefinitely. Soon, she would scream and Lee would snap out of his lethargy and react with some kind of high emotion. Maybe he would kill her, or himself, or both of them.

But that didn't make much difference now. She felt herself slipping and fought for control. Just until the police came.

Then she heard them, clumping their way up the stairs.

She looked at Lee as they approached the door and she said the strangest thing of all: "Good-bye, Jim."

And he answered her in the same strange way. "Good-bye, Laurel."

Then the police broke in and wrested the gun from his listless hand.