Cry of the Hunter - Jack Higgins [28]
He pulled back the bedclothes and swung his feet to the floor. ‘There’s an easy way to find out,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and check.’
Her nightdress rustled faintly through the darkness as she moved towards the door. ‘I’ll slip a dressing gown on and go with you,’ she said.
He pulled on shirt and pants. For a moment he hesitated, weighing the Luger in his hand, and then he slipped it back under the pillow. He left the room quickly and found the girl waiting for him in the darkness by her door. Together they moved cautiously to the head of the stairs and listened. The house was as quiet as the grave. Fallon led the way down the back stairs and opened the door into the kitchen. The room was empty and quiet except for the faint crackling of the coke in the stove. He switched on the light and said, ‘I’ll check the other rooms, but it looks all right. Must have been the wind.’
When he came back she had the kettle boiling on the stove. ‘Everything all right?’ she said.
He grinned and looked at his watch. ‘Well, it’s now precisely ten minutes past six. Are you sure this wasn’t just an excuse to get me up early?’
She smiled and shook her head. ‘I really did think I heard something. It must have been my imagination. This old house is full of noises in the dark.’
Fallon lit a cigarette and sat down at the table as she poured tea. He coughed violently as the smoke caught at the back of his throat. ‘Tastes horrible,’ he managed to say at last.
She chuckled. ‘Then why smoke?’
He shrugged and shook his head. ‘Why do anything? Why live?’
She held up a hand and said, in mock alarm, ‘Not philosophy. Not at this time in the morning, please.’
From the front of the house there came a faint rattling of bottles and Fallon turned quickly, every sense on the alert. ‘What’s that?’ he demanded.
She smiled. ‘Don’t worry. It’s only the milkman. They deliver very early here.’ She got up from the table and went out into the hall.
Fallon heard her open the front door. There was the sound of heavy rain and the chink of the bottles as she picked them up, and then the door slammed. She came slowly into the room and he said, ‘Hasn’t it stopped yet?’
There was a puzzled expression in her eyes and she frowned as she put the bottles down on the table. ‘I could have sworn I bolted that door,’ she said.
‘What was that?’ He sat upright in his chair and looked at her.
‘The door,’ she said. ‘I thought I bolted it last night.’
For a moment they stared at each other and then she paled and Fallon jumped to his feet, sending his chair flying and rushed out into the hall. He went up the stairs, two at a time, raced along the landing, and then up the flight that led to the attics. He flung open the door so that it crashed against the wall and switched on the light. Murphy sat up in bed, shocked from sleep, an expression of alarm and bewilderment on his face. For God’s sake, Mr. Fallon!’ he cried. ‘What’s up?’
For a moment Fallon regarded the sleeping form of Rogan as he lay, huddled under the blankets, and then he took a quick pace forward and pulled the blankets away, disclosing two pillows. ‘The bastard!’ he said savagely. ‘The crazy bastard! He’ll be the end of all of us.’ He turned to the boy. ‘Get your clothes on and come down to the kitchen.’ He turned on heel and left the room.
The girl was standing at the bottom of the stairs, an expression of alarm on her face. ‘Is everything all right?’ she said.
‘Anything but,’ Fallon told her. ‘Rogan’s gone for a walk.’ He strode to the door and opened it and looked out into the darkness and the lashing rain.
‘But why?’ she said in amazement. ‘I don’t understand. Where could he go?’
Fallon shook his head and closed the door. ‘I’d give a lot to know that,’ he told her. ‘All I know is that he’s out there somewhere and there’s a purpose in his going.’ He turned and moved back towards the kitchen.
Murphy clattered down the stairs and rushed in. ‘Have you any idea where’s he’s gone, Mr. Fallon?’ he said.
Fallon shook his head. ‘Didn’t you hear him get up?’
The boy flushed and looked at the floor. ‘I was sleeping