Comes the Dark Stranger - Jack Higgins [57]
‘But I had to do it that way,’ Faulkner said patiently. ‘You were suspected of being insane. It had to be that sort of murder.’
Steele had managed to struggle to his feet and he slumped into one of the chairs, his face bone white and drawn with pain. ‘What are we going to do with him?’ he said.
Faulkner shrugged. ‘I’m going to shoot him,’ he said calmly. ‘It’s very simple. He forced you to bring him here from the club. He had a gun. There was a struggle and I managed to shoot him.’
Shane took a deep breath and tried to straighten his tired body and then there was a sudden movement in the shrubbery behind him and Lomax moved forward and stood at his shoulder.
Shane felt a tremendous relief flooding through him and he sagged back against the pillar. ‘What kept you?’ he said. ’I was beginning to get worried.’
Lomax grinned. ‘I’ve been here for quite a while,’ he said. ‘There was no reply when I rang the bell at the front door so I had to force a window. You were so busy talking you didn’t hear me come in.’
‘Did you get it all?’ Shane said.
Lomax nodded. ‘Enough - I’ll apologize to you later.’ He turned to Faulkner and said grimly. ‘You’d better hand that thing over - the house is surrounded anyway. You wouldn’t get very far.’
Steele gave a cry of dismay and tried to get to his feet. Faulkner turned quickly and slashed him across the head with the barrel of the Luger and then he moved back until he was leaning against the door which led out on to the terrace.
‘The first man to move gets a bullet between the eyes,’ he said, ‘and I mean it. I’ve nothing to lose and I don’t intend to hang.’
He opened the door to the terrace and as he stepped backwards, his eyes never leaving them, Shane said gently, ‘But you are going to hang, Simon. You see I promised a friend of mine earlier in the evening that I wouldn’t kill you. As I didn’t trust myself not to pull the trigger when I had the gun trained on you, I thought I’d better take safety precautions.’ His hand came out of his pocket and he held up the magazine from the Luger.
Faulkner’s whole body seemed to go rigid and then his tortured face twisted with fury. ‘You’re lying!' he said furiously and pulled the trigger. The empty, metallic click echoed through the silence and Shane began to walk slowly towards him.
Behind him Lomax cried out in dismay and clutched at his shoulder but Shane shook him off. He was not conscious of anything except Faulkner’s eyes burning with hate from his ravaged face. This was something personal, something that had to be settled between the two of them.
Faulkner backed slowly away along the terrace, the Luger held out uselessly in front of him. He glanced over his shoulder once and when he turned to face Shane again there was a gleam of hope in his eyes. Shane looked beyond him and saw the iron ladder of the fire-escape and shook his head slowly. ‘You won’t escape me, Simon,’ he said. ‘This is the final ending to the story. This is the moment when all debts are paid.’
Faulkner suddenly flung the Luger at him with all his strength. Shane tried to duck, but it caught him a glancing blow high on the forehead and he cried aloud in agony as something seemed to move inside his brain and the night exploded into coloured lights.
He staggered forward, his hands groping blindly in front of him and Faulkner jumped up on to the balustrade and reached for the ladder. Shane’s right hand secured a grip on an ankle and he pulled. He glanced up and was conscious of the monstrous face glaring down at him, and then Faulkner kicked at him savagely with his other foot.
Shane staggered back, cannoning into Lomax, and Faulkner’s foot slipped and he stepped backwards into space. For a moment he seemed to poise there and then he screamed horribly and disappeared.
The sound of that scream seemed to penetrate into Shane’s brain where it whirled round and round in a decreasing circle and then the light that streamed from the windows seemed to grow into a large ball that started to spin round and round