Comes the Dark Stranger - Jack Higgins [17]
Shane shook his head gently. ‘You must have been thinking of someone else, Joe. Simon Faulkner maybe. Now he is dead, isn’t he?’
For a moment Wilby glared at him and then he lurched across to the bed, picked up the gin bottle and held it to his lips. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and said aggressively. ‘Yes, Faulkner’s dead. They shot him underneath my window. So what?’
Shane smiled gently. ‘I mean that Faulkner’s dead and you’re not,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t that suggest a certain possibility?’
Wilby’s eyes widened and he threw the bottle with a crash against the wall. ‘What the hell are you getting at?’ he roared. ‘What have you come here for? You always were a queer bastard.’ He turned and reached for the door handle. ‘Go on, get to hell out of here.’
Shane moved quickly. His hand fastened on to Wilby’s collar and he pulled the big man backwards and sent him crashing across the room.
Wilby came up from the floor with a rush, his great hands reaching out. Shane waited until he was close and then stepped to one side and hit him in the stomach with all his force. Wilby gave a great sigh and, slowly crumpling at the knees, fell across the bed.
Shane leaned against the mantelpiece and waited. It was several minutes before Wilby sat up, groaning and rubbing his belly and when he looked up there was fear and hatred in his eyes. ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded. ‘What have you come back for?’
Shane hauled him to his feet. His face was grim and there was iron in his voice. ‘I’m looking for the rat who spilled his guts to Colonel Li.’
Sudden fear clouded Wilby’s eyes and his jaw went slack. He twisted his head desperately from side to side.
‘It wasn’t me, Shane,’ he said eagerly. ‘I kept my mouth shut.’
Shane pulled him close, his eyes boring into the beer-sodden face and Wilby seemed to go completely to pieces. ‘You’ve got to believe me,’ he screamed. ‘It wasn’t me.’
For a moment longer Shane held him and then he sent him staggering across the room so that he fell across the bed. Wilby lay there sobbing and Shane walked to the door. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet,’ he said ominously. ‘I’ve got someone else to see and then maybe I’ll be back.’
He closed the door behind him and turned to find Bella Wilby standing in the darkness of the corridor. ‘What the hell’s been going on in there?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you said you and Joe were friends?’
He grinned. ‘Why ask me? You were listening at the door, weren’t you?’ She started to move out of his way with an outraged gasp and he caught hold of her arm and pulled her close. ‘Tell him I’m at the Embassy Hotel if he’s got anything to say to me.’ He left her standing there in the darkness and walked along the corridor and let himself out.
It was still raining and the fog was thicker than ever. He walked quickly towards the centre of the town, thinking about the events of the day. The girl, Graham and Adam Crowther - no link between them and yet they all wanted him to give this thing up. And Wilby was frightened. Really frightened. Was it guilt or was he afraid of something else?
He tried hard, but the dull ache was beginning again, just behind his forehead and he started to walk towards his hotel as the pain began to get worse. The fog swirled around him and somehow he was completely alone and fear moved inside him. The world was a spinning, nebulous illusion with nothing real in it and he lurched across the street in a panic.
As he was about to step on to the opposite pavement, Laura Faulkner walked past him, the Dobermann at her heels. The sight of her was so totally unexpected that he drew back in alarm and she disappeared into the fog. For a moment he remained there and then a car swirled past him, dangerously close, bringing him back to reality. He stepped on to the pavement and hurried after her.
He turned the corner at the end of the street in time to see her climb some steps and enter a door. A lighted glass sign said Hotel and he stood at the bottom of the steps, hesitating for a moment, before