Belle - Lesley Pearse [207]
The first door he opened was devoid of any furniture, and the walls were papered in dark green, with faded places where pictures had once hung. He assumed it had been the dining room. The second door nearest to the front door was to a well-furnished drawing room, the walls lined with books. The curtains were closed, and having seen it he shut the door again and started to go upstairs. He noticed that the stair carpet and the pictures hanging on the wall didn’t go with the good taste he’d seen in the drawing room. The carpet was a bright red, it looked thin and cheap, and the pictures were the kind anyone could buy for twenty francs in the flea market. He guessed this was Pascal’s input.
He had only reached the fifth step when he heard a sound. He stopped and listened. It was almost like a dog’s growl, yet he sensed it was human, and it was coming from the top of the house. Etienne was always light on his feet – people often said he unnerved them because they never heard him coming – but up till now he’d made no effort to be silent. It seemed he wasn’t in an empty house, however.
Creeping up on tiptoe, he winced as a stair creaked, and strained his ears to listen. The growl-like noise came again, and as he reached the first landing he could hear a low thumping sound too. Both sounds could be put down to the kinds of noise someone might make if they were tied up and gagged, and therefore it could be Belle, imprisoned in one of the upstairs rooms. But much as he wanted to run up there full tilt and check, he knew he must be cautious. He withdrew his knife again and continued creeping up, listening all the while, poised to strike out if necessary.
When he reached the fourth floor there was very little light coming from the hall any more, but as he looked upwards over the banisters he saw a chink coming from the top floor. The thumping sound was much louder now, and suddenly he realized what he was hearing. Furthermore he recognized the growling sound as the kind of noise a gagged person might make, and he was certain it was Belle.
Incensed, he threw caution aside, running at full tilt up the last flight of stairs, and when he reached the door he ran at it with his shoulder. The whole door and frame shuddered and creaked, he went back and did it again harder still, and this time the door crashed open, pieces of wood on the frame shattered and falling to the floor.
The scene in front of him made Etienne’s stomach turn. Pascal had already leapt from the bed and backed up to the far wall, holding Belle in front of him.
She was naked, her face white and terrified, blood running down her stomach and legs. She had something stuck in her mouth as a gag. And Pascal was holding a knife to her throat.
Her eyes were wide with shock at seeing Etienne.
‘Come any closer and I’ll slit her ear to ear,’ Pascal hissed. He was wearing just a shirt and his socks held up by suspenders, but his shirt was stained with blood. ‘Who are you anyway?’
‘Let her go,’ Etienne commanded. He had concealed his own knife up his sleeve the moment he saw Pascal had one, and now he surreptitiously slid it back into the sheath to keep his hands free. ‘You can have me as a hostage, but let her go.’
‘Why would I want to do that?’ Pascal said with disdain. ‘I hold all the cards here. Make one move on me and I’ll cut her throat.’
Etienne was aware the man did hold all the cards. If he was to turn and run for help, Belle would die. If he tried to grab Pascal, the chances were that the man would make good his threat.
Years ago when he was just a boy, an uncle of his who was a prize fighter had told him a cornered man was just as dangerous