Comes the Dark Stranger - Jack Higgins [43]
He came out into the meadow and saw the lights of the cottage a hundred yards away to his right and set off towards them at a shambling run. He approached the back door cautiously and then he heard a sound behind him. It was Steele coming back from the river, the shotgun across one shoulder. Shane stood in the shadows and waited.
As Steele put a foot on the threshold, Shane hit him savagely in the neck. Steele gave a strangled moan and slumped to the ground. Shane leaned against the wall, sobbing for breath for a moment or two and then he gripped Steele firmly by the collar and dragged him along the corridor and into the living-room.
The woman was standing in front of the fire, a glass in one hand. As he straightened up and turned, she threw herself on him, screaming with rage, her fingers clawing at his face. He lifted her in his arms, kicked open the bedroom door and dropped her on to the bed. On his way out he took the key and locked the door from the outside.
In the kitchen he found a length of clothes line, tied Steele’s hands firmly behind his back and lifted him into one of the chairs by the fire. He helped himself to a drink and sat back and waited.
At first the woman hammered furiously on the bedroom door, but after a while she got tired. Steele groaned a couple of times and Shane leaned over and slapped him across the face. Steele’s head snapped back and his eyes opened.
They wandered about the room aimlessly and then focused on Shane. For a moment longer they remained empty and vacant, and then a spark of anger appeared.
Shane filled a glass with whisky and threw it into Steele’s face. ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Now we can talk.’
Steele’s eyes burned with hate and his tongue flickered over dry lips. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you,’ he said.
Shane lit a cigarette. ‘I think you have. I’ve been talking to Laura Faulkner. I saw you together the other night. She told me why.’
Something moved in Steele’s eyes, but he shrugged and said calmly, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Shane’s fist smashed into his mouth, jerked his head against the back of the chair. ‘I haven’t got much time,’ he said. ‘You’ve been blackmailing Laura Faulkner for years, you rat. You’ve got a certain envelope, addressed to her father, ready to be delivered if she doesn’t do as she’s told. I want it.’
Blood trickled from Steele’s chin, staining his white shirt and his eyes were dark with hate. ‘I’ll pay you out for this, you bastard,’ he screamed. ‘You and that fancy bitch can go to hell.’
Shane reached for the poker and inserted it into the heart of the fire. ‘As I said, I haven’t got much time.’ He sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair. ‘It’s funny how life goes round in a circle, isn’t it? Here am I in exactly the same position as Colonel Li. He was in rather a hurry, too - remember?’
Steele was staring at the poker in fascinated horror and all colour had left his face. He tried to laugh. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
Shane raised his eyebrows. ‘But why not? I got the idea from your pal, Frenchy. He tried it on a friend of mine earlier this evening.’
There was a short silence and then Shane leaned forward and took the poker from the fire. It was white hot and he turned and smiled gently. ‘Changed your mind yet, Reggie?’
Steele flung a curse at him and tried to scramble out of the chair. Shane flung him back and slowly advanced the poker. Sweat streamed down Steele’s brow and his head moved frantically from side to side. For a moment Shane hesitated and then an expression of utter ruthlessness appeared on his face. Slowly and deliberately he extended his arm and Steele screamed, high and shrill like a woman ’Take it away. For Christ’s sake, take it away.’
Shane lowered the poker, his face grim. ‘The envelope,’ he demanded. ‘Where is it?’
‘In the safe at my office,’ Steele gabbled. ‘Large white manilla envelope under the cash box on the top shelf. The key’s in my right hand pocket.’
Shane