Chapter 4

The tall man fumbled impatiently in the lingerie-filled drawers of Penny Bruce's bureau. Finally he turned and muttered angrily.

"I don't see any black panties here. Where are they? I know you have some, damn it."

Frightened and puzzled, the naked girl rose from the bed and moved to the drawer. The black lingerie was hidden under some percale bed sheets. She remembered now that she hid them because they infuriated her husband. She had bought them originally to excite him, but he had seen her in them once and told her they made her slutty.

As she bent over the drawer, she could measure the distance to the bathroom from the corner of her eye. A fast move, a sudden pivot and a leap might do it. It was less than twelve feet away. Once inside, she could scream for help. Her neighbor, Mrs. Manning, would certainly hear. But the man would have to turn his back first.

The man fingered the lingerie appreciatively. "I love these with flowers on them. You must love flowers? Or your husband does. Very stimulating. What size do you wear, Penny?"

"Twelve," she whispered, "dress size; five in panties."

He squeezed her arm sharply. "Speak up, dear. Speak up."

"Five," she repeated slowly, looking at his angry eyes. She had a premonition of having met him before. Where?

"I'll take these along," he said, slipping the flowered panties into his pocket. "Where are the black ones, Penny?"

As she bent over to rummage under the sheets, he ran the tip of his sharp nail along her hip. She shivered but made no sound.

"Where are they?" This time the nail dug into her flesh.

"Underneath some sheets," Penny said, shuddering as his insistent nail performed figure eights on her back.

He unzipped the case and put the panties inside. Then he pulled her back to the bed.

"God, you're lovely." He kissed her again. "You wait here. I ain't going to hurt you. No reason to. Nobody saw me come in, as I said. But supposing they did. Doesn't matter. My company sends a bunch of us up here. I'd just tell them-yes, I called, but then I left. Only thing is, I don't want to be caught in here. So you just be quiet and everything'll be fine.

"I just want to see you in black and then we'll play a little. Minute I saw you swishing down the block with your cute little fanny, I wanted to play. We'll just put those black ones on you, then we'll take them off and play on this nice great big bed."

He gestured toward the briefcase. "Thanks for the flower panties. I'll give 'em to my girl when I get downtown. She'll love them."

He patted her belly affectionately and returned to the chiffonier. A second later he was burrowing under a pile of lingerie.

Penny watched him like a hawk, studying and timing his every movement. Now, she thought. Now! Now! Now!

She got up and was about to spring past him when he turned with a pair of black lace panties and a black brassiere.

"Ecco!" he yelled triumphantly. "Put these on for me."

He threw them at her and seemed to notice for the first time that she was standing up.

"What's the matter?" he said in a funny voice.

"I thought I'd show you where they were," she said, unconvincingly.

He grinned. "Well, thanks. Put them on."

A glance at his eyes ended her hesitation. She stepped quickly into the black lace panties and nervously fitted the brassiere over her breasts.

"Ecco!" he whispered, staring at her across the room.

"Please, mister, please don't," Penny begged. "Don't what?"

"I've got some money I can give you. I won't call the police, I promise you," she said pleadingly.

He shook his head.

"Please, I-I never did it with anyone but my husband. Please don't touch me."

"You're wasting your time," he said softly, "and mine."

He cut quickly across the carpet and took her in his arms. She jabbed at him with her small fists as he cupped her breasts and kneaded the flesh of her thighs. Then she butted his chest with her elbow. He laughed as he held her close to him. Then he put his fingers around her throat and squeezed.

"I'm going to continue until your tongue falls out," he said softly, "the next time you do that or raise your voice."

Without another word, he ripped the underwear from her body and pushed her back on the bed. Penny pushed at his face with her outstretched hands, but it was no use. The man's overpowering weight on her barely let her breathe.

"No, no, please!" she begged. "Let me go. I'll give you all the money I have. Please don't touch me. Please, mister."

She fought to throw him off and sit up. He pushed her down sharply and then swooped down to kiss the cleft of her bosom. For a horrible moment, she thought she would black out as she felt his slobbering lips, but it was worse when he kissed her. She felt his tongue rake her mouth, and his hot breath, reeking of peanuts and sweet candy, filled her nostrils. She turned her face away and began to sob. It disconcerted the man on top of her. He rolled away from her and held up her face.

"Don't cry," he said softly. "I won't hurt you."

It was a different voice from the one he had used before. A more humane, understanding voice. Something in it arrested her sobbing and she listened to it.

As he bobbed his head down to kiss her again, something about his face struck her once more. She was not sure what. Just something that seemed familiar. She stared at him.

He stopped caressing her body when the sobs ceased. Quietly he looked into her face.

"What's the matter?" he asked in a strange voice. "What do you see?"

Her terror increased as she realized that somehow she knew him. Without knowing how or when she had met him. She knew him.

She stared at him wordlessly, frozen in the rigidity of fear.

"You saw something," he said in the harsh voice he had used before. "What was it?"

She said nothing.

"You know who I am?"

She shook her head.

"You know, you little bitch. You know. Now I'll have to throttle you."

"No," she gasped hoarsely as he squeezed her throat.

"I'm sorry," he began in the softer voice he used when she cried. "I don't like to kill, but I can't have you...."

The shrill ringing of the telephone murdered the silence of the room as his hands tightened. He stopped and listened.

"Who is that?"

"My husband," she said hoarsely. "What does he want?"

"Nothing. He just calls me on his lunch hour. Every day."

"He knows you're here?" She nodded.

"All right, answer it. Tell him you're hot and want to take a shower. Cut it short, and it better be your husband."

He grabbed the phone as it rang for the fifth time and put it face down on the opposite side of the bed. Then he moved so she could get it.

Penny squirmed so that her feet moved to the opposite side, and picked up the phone. Her heart was racing wildly as she realized she was now on the side of the bathroom door. A quick jump and a sprint of less than ten feet and she could make it. But in the same instant she could feel the man's heavy, bony, long fingers playing arpeggios on the back of her thighs.

"Hello," she said hoarsely.

"Penny, baby. How are you? I thought you weren't home," Cliff said.

If there were only some way to warn Cliff. But he couldn't get there in time to save her. And even a hint that might make him suspicious and call a neighbor or the police would be too late and useless, and it would alert the attacker. In the split seconds that went by, her mind seized on the only possibility.

Talk to Cliff long enough to lull the attacker's suspicions, then jump up and run.

"Penny, are you okay?" Cliff asked.

"Yes, fine," she said. Oh, God, what could she say that would not alert the man on the bed who was running his hand lightly over her ankle now? Suddenly, it came to her. She put a palm over the phone and said, "He worries about me. If I hang up, he'll call the neighbors. I've got to talk to him for a few minutes."

"Two," the man on the bed said. "Control your voice. Don't try anything funny."

She turned to the phone, holding her breath for a moment before speaking.

"What the hell's going on?" Cliff was saying. "Can you hear me, baby?"

"Yes, darling, yes." She prayed that Cliff would not ask anything that could not be answered with a "yes" or a "no." .

"It's hot as hell down here," Cliff complained.

"Hot here, too. Very hot," Penny said, looking at the man.

"I thought something was wrong there for awhile. You know, you sounded damned funny."

"I'm sorry, dear. It's the heat."

How long would it take to jump up and run for the bathroom, she wondered. His fingers had stopped playing with her leg now. He scowled at her.

"That's okay, baby," Cliff said. "I wish I could take a shower. I wish we could take one together. Hey, wouldn't that be something? Like we used to in South Bend. Boy, I'd love that. Feel your cool, dripping-wet skin against me and my dripping-wet-hey, I'd better stop. This ain't going to cool either of us off. Besides, the foreman might be coming in to get a No. 2 screwdriver."

He laughed suddenly and said, "Hey, that line was spontaneous. You used to think my jokes were funny."

The man on the bed dug his fingernails into the firm flesh of Penny's upper thigh and she groaned. The man moved his palm viciously to the right-to signal, Cut him off, end it.

Penny closed her eyes. As soon as she put the phone down, the man would strangle her. He was only waiting because he did not want the neighbors warned. On the other hand, his patience might reach its limits. She had to work on his fear of being caught. It was the only way.

"Penny, you're fading out," Cliff complained.

The man on the bed signaled furiously with his hand. Penny stared at him. Suddenly he threw himself across the bedspread and clamped his hairy fist over the mouthpiece. His other hand flew to her throat.

"Knock it off, I said. Knock it off. And no funny stuff. If you say anything funny, I'll be waiting for him when he pulls in."

He released her and stood away from the bed, watching her carefully. Penny's mind raced over what she could say that would stall the man without alarming Cliff. She did not want him in danger. Her best bet was to make the bathroom and scream for help. Mrs. Manning would hear her. But she had no time to think.

"Penny, for God's sakes, are you all right?" Cliff asked, worried.

"Yes," she said. "I-I just got a cramp, Cliffie. My leg felt all knotted up."

"Well, look, sweetie. Lie down for a while and take it slow. Or if you can, rub it with some witch hazel or rubbing alcohol."

She started to say something when suddenly she felt her flesh seared. The man was holding his lighter a half-inch from her bare thigh.

When she did not put the phone down, he applied the flame to her flesh and she screamed.

"What's the matter, honey?" Cliff yelled.

There was no answer.

"Penny," Cliff shouted. "What's wrong? What was that scream for? Are you-"

"It's nothing, Cliff," she said, staring at the tall man. "I'll have to hang up now."

"Penny, for God's sake, what's the matter?" her husband said. "What did you scream like that for? Are you sick or what?"

"No," she said in a tight voice. "Goodby, Cliff."

"Listen, I'm coming right over. I'll talk to the foreman and I'll be over in less than an hour."

"No, Cliff, don't."

"Well, then, tell me what's wrong. You sound terrible. You hurt or something?"

"Nothing, Cliff. Please, I've got to hang up now."

"Penny," Cliff said. "Something is sure the hell wrong. Either tell me what it is or I'm coming over."

"No, no," she begged. "Don't come. I'm all right."

The tall man made a face and. threw the lighter viciously at her. She winced as it hit her shoulder and fell to the floor. Making no effort to pick it up, the man pulled a package of cigarettes from his coat pocket and opened them. Watching him from the corner of her eye, Penny realized he was very frightened by the telephone conversation.

"I'll be okay, Cliff, don't come. I can't explain now," she said, watching the tall man's eyes.

"You're sure you don't want me to come, honey?" Cliff said. "Yes."

The man was fumbling in his pocket now for a match. Then, realizing he had none, he ducked to the floor for the lighter. The minute his head went down, her stomach rolled over. It was now or never.

She dropped the phone, leaped from the bed and raced for the bathroom door. The man, hearing the bedsprings groan, shot up from his crouch like a jack-in-the-box. He made a flying tackle as she reached the bathroom and caught at her ankles. She kicked her foot free of his grasp, spun inside the door and slammed it shut on his hand. He screamed in pain. In another second, the door was locked.

Behind the door, Penny cringed, expecting him to break it down with his heavy pounding. She examined the small window frantically. It was tightly screened and too small to get out of without difficulty. Mrs. Manning, she thought, Mrs. Manning! She began to scream as loudly as she could.

"Let me in, you bitch," the man yelled. "I'll kill you."

In the house across the alley, Mrs. Manning, who had been watching a television soap opera, frowned at the screams. She turned the sound up.

Damn that woman, she thought. Doesn't she have anything else to do but take cold showers? As the screams grew louder, she stopped to listen and finally put the set off. There was no doubt of it-Penny was yelling for help. Mrs. Manning ran to the window.

"What is it, Penny?" she asked through the open window. "Are you all right?"

"Help! There's someone trying to kill me. Help! Call the police," Penny yelled.

The man, hearing the neighbor's voice, stopped trying to force the door.

"I'll kill you-you bitch. I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do."

He grabbed his case and fled.