Comes the Dark Stranger - Jack Higgins [46]
She was standing facing him on the other side of a table, a telephone receiver in one hand. As he walked slowly forward she shook her head and said in a low voice, ‘No, he was asleep when I left him.’ And then she looked up and saw Shane.
Her face went pale and she quickly replaced the receiver in its cradle and forced a smile. ‘Why, Martin, I thought you were still asleep.’
He walked round the table and stood very close to her. ‘Who was that on the telephone just now?’
She shrugged. ‘Just a friend. It was nothing important.’
She started to walk away and Shane grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close. ‘You were discussing me with someone. Who was it?’
Suddenly she was angry and she struggled to free herself. ‘You’re hurting my arm,’ she said.
He released her suddenly so that she fell back against the table. She massaged her arm gently with one hand and glared at him. ‘If you must know, I was speaking to Charles Graham about you.’
A sudden, cold rage erupted inside him. A rage that was compounded of disgust and loathing and bitter hurt. ‘You’re lying,’ he said. ‘You’re lying.’
He slapped her heavily across the face and as she staggered back against the table, he moved forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘You’re going to tell me the truth,’ he said. ‘I’ve had enough of lies and deceits.’
She started to struggle, her fingers clawing at his face and then the door swung open and her father appeared. He was wearing a dressing-gown and carried a walking stick in one hand. He lurched forward, raising the stick above his head and then, as he aimed a blow at Shane’s head, he seemed to crumple at the knees and collapsed.
Shane lifted him in his arms and carried him across to the couch, all his rage evaporating. As he straightened up, Laura pushed him violently in the chest. ‘Get out,’ she screamed. ‘Get out and don’t come back. I never want to see you again.’
For a little while he stood staring into her face and then he turned without a word and walked out through the hall to the front door. She followed him and as he stepped on to the top step, the door slammed behind him and a bolt shot into place.
He stood there for a little while listening to her storm of weeping as she leaned against the other side of the door and then he walked down the drive towards the Daimler. His mind was completely frozen and he was only conscious of one thought. He was going to finish what he had started.
He drove fast on the way into town and as he turned the Daimler into the square and pulled up a few yards from the Garland Club, a church clock sounded one o'clock somewhere near at hand.
The fog was a little thicker and a steady drizzle was falling as he turned along the alley at the side of the club and moved towards the staff entrance. When he opened the door, the passage was deserted. He could hear the sound of voices from the kitchens and they were somehow muted and far away. He stood there for a moment listening and then he quickly mounted the back stairs to the first floor.
The corridor was deserted and he moved quickly along it to Steele’s office. The door was locked and he took out the keys he had taken from Steele and tried them one by one. Behind him a door opened and there was a sudden burst of laughter. He moved across into the side passage quickly and flattened himself against the wall.
It sounded like some of the girls from the show and he listened to their voices fade along the corridor. When all was still again he moved back to the door and started again. The second key he tried fitted the lock and in a moment he was inside the room.
He switched on the light and went across to the safe which stood in the far corner next to the window. He inserted the most obvious key into the lock and the heavy door swung open to his touch. He pushed the cash box to one side and stood up, the manilla envelope clutched in his hands.
It was addressed in clear, rather feminine handwriting, to Henry Faulkner and Shane inserted a thumb under the flap