Chapter 13
Knots were twisting in Arthur's stomach as he stepped off the elevator at the eleventh floor. He hurried down the corridor, directly to the door of the apartment where he had seen the man with the binoculars. His hand trembled as he pushed the button, ringing the bell.
The sound startled him out of the trance into which he had fallen. What was he doing here? If it were later reported that he had behaved this way, then it would certainly point the finger of suspicion at him. He was behaving like a guilty man.
But he was not guilty, because Thelma's death had been an accident. He must remember that! Even if the man saw something through the binoculars, it was not enough to incriminate him. Certainly the man had not seen him strike the blow which stunned her. And he had not seen him holding Thelma's head under the water.
All at once Arthur was angry at himself. He wheeled away from the door and hurried down the corridor. He had lost control for a moment. But it was not serious, because nobody had answered the door.
Nobody had seen, of course. It was just his wild imagination getting the best of him. It was foolish to have such a fantastic idea.
He stepped onto the elevator and automatically punched the button for the fifteenth floor. He took a deep breath and let it out. Suddenly he felt calm again. It was done. Everything was going to be fine now.
Thelma was dead. He was a free man free to marry the woman he loved. What more could a man wish for? And a moment ago, in a state of panic, he had nearly ruined it all.
He stepped out when the elevator stopped. His heart was pounding excitedly, for he was going to see Terry again much sooner than he had expected.
He reached up to push the bell, then changed his mind. Instead, he took the key to the apartment from his pocket. The key which Terry had given him. From now on, this would be just as much his home as the other place.
He pushed open the door and looked around. Terry was not in the living room. Then he heard a sound which came from the bedroom.
A chill passed along his spine, for the sound had been that of a man's voice.
He rushed to the door, then almost staggered from the sight which met his gaze. He grasped the wall for support. For a moment the room grew dim before his eyes.
They had not heard him come in the door. They did not know that he was standing there watching.
Terry had on the same strange rubber girdle which left her buttocks exposed the same rubber bra with the holes in the end through which her breasts and pointed nipples protruded. And she was kneeling on the floor before the naked man in a scene of utter depravity.
The man's hands rested on the gold crown of her head, directing her. And Terry was so intent on what she was doing that she seemed to be in another world, unconscious of everything around her.
Her head was weaving hypnotically, and in response the man's body twisted in the same lustful rhythm. Croaking noises came from the depths of the man's throat.
Arthur leaned against the door, for his legs had weakened so much that they could hardly support him. He closed his eyes, but the terrible sight was still there. It would not go away.
Without knowing it was going to happen, he uttered a shrill cry of despair which echoed off the walls.
Terry was startled out of her coma. She pushed her blonde hair back from her face and, still kneeling before the man, stared at Arthur in surprise. Her eyes were still heavy and her face still flushed with passion.
Then she gasped.
"Arthur what are you doing here? You said not to expect you ... today..."
The man, who was tall and heavy-set advanced toward Arthur with his hands knotted into fists. There was a look of venomous anger on his face.
"What do you mean busting in here like this?" the man growled. "Get the hell out!"
In a sudden boiling rage he rushed at Arthur, swinging a heavy fist at his head. Arthur was too stunned to move. He felt the sudden explosive force of the blow, and then he was rolling across the floor.
His own anger ignited suddenly. This was the woman he had killed for, and he had found her like this ... with another man! He hated them both. They did not deserve to live...
Instinctively Arthur reached into his coat pocket and closed his hand around the bone handle of the knife. He drew it out as the man rushed him again. The man did not see the knife until Arthur drove it at his naked belly.
The man cried with pain, staggered and fell to the floor, his hands clutching at the bloody wound.
Terry shrieked.
She was dashing for the door when Arthur caught her by the hair and whirled her around. Terror distorted her face. Arthur's rage was out of control now. He had become an avenging demon, maddened by bloodlust.
The knife sank into her body, just below the ribs. She started a scream, but it turned into a low whine. He released his hold on her and let her fall.
There was an instant, as she lay on the floor, when her face once more seemed beautiful. But that soon passed away. A numbness began to creep through Arthur's body, and in a moment he felt nothing at all.
He knew that everything was finished now. He had destroyed himself. Tears began to warm his eyes, tears of sorrow and confusion. All he had wanted was a little freedom and the woman who lay dying on the floor.
Now he would have neither.
Grimly he walked to the window and slid it open. As he stepped onto the ledge, he glanced across at his apartment house. A chill, unworldly laugh burst from his lips. He wondered if anyone was watching now through a telescope.
And then he stepped into space. The sudden rush of air took his breath away. He closed his eyes as he dropped toward the street, which raced up to meet him...