Hell Is Too Crowded - Jack Higgins [5]
Mallory nodded. "The doctor took blood and skin from underneath the fingernails of her right hand. He'll examine you when we get down to the station."
Brady clenched his hands to keep them from shaking. "I'm an American citizen. I'd like to get in touch with my Embassy."
"That's already been taken care of," Mallory said, opening the door into the bathroom.
Brady made one more try. He paused in the doorway. "Let's go over this thing again, Mallory. There's got to be an answer somewhere."
"There's only one thing might help you now, Brady," Mallory told him, "and that's a lawyer. I'd ask your Embassy to get you a good one. The best there is. You're going to need all the help you can get."
Gower was standing outside and his eyes glittered malevolently as Brady moved past him. They took him downstairs and paused at the top of the steps while Gower produced a pair of handcuffs.
It was still foggy and the rain bounced from the asphalt surface of the street in solid rods. Several police cars were parked in the road and a small group of curious people crowded along the railings, held back by a couple of constables. It looked as if most of the inhabitants of the quiet street had turned out, probably awakened by the unaccustomed noise of the cars.
As Gower clamped one steel bracelet around the American's wrist, Brady stiffened suddenly. Standing out from the mass of faces was one he was already only too familiar with. In the same moment, its owner melted into the fog at the rear of the crowd and disappeared.
Brady pulled away from Gower and jumped down into the crowd, the handcuffs swinging from one wrist. He burst his way through and then someone stretched out a foot and tripped him so that he fell heavily. As he started to get up, they were upon him.
Gower twisted his arm and Brady turned desperately as the inspector came forward, "I saw him, Mallory," he said. "He was there at the back of the crowd watching. He can't have got far."
In the light of the street lamp, Mallory looked suddenly more tired than ever. "For God's sake, cut it out, Brady! This isn't going to get you anywhere."
Brady's control snapped completely. He lifted an elbow into Gower's face, tore free, and plunged through the crowd, striking out madly at the faces which surrounded him.
It was no good. He pulled away from the clutching hands and turned with his back to the railings. "Come on!" he cried. "Come and get me, you bastards!"
They came in a rush, Gower leading the way. Brady smashed a fist into the detective's face and then a staff cracked down across his right arm. He swung again with his left. Someone twisted it behind his back and they forced him down against the wet flagstones. He cursed and kicked out wildly.
It took six of them to get him into the car.
(3)
THE governor of Manningham Gaol sighed. Men who had been in the condemned cell always seemed to have that look about them--as if the whole world was their enemy. On the other hand he'd always considered it rather barbaric to let a man sweat it out until the appointed day was almost upon him before reprieving him. It was hardly to be wondered that anyone who had gone through such an experience should be different from other men.
It was eight o'clock in the evening and he was already late for a bridge party. He shuffled the reports neatly together, replaced them in their file, and leaned back in his chair.
"This is a maximum-security prison, Brady," he said. "There's no way out except through the front gate. That's why men are sent here. You'll find that most of the inmates are serving long sentences or life, like yourself. Have you any questions?"
"No, sir!" Brady said.
The light from the desk threw his face into relief. It had fined down in the past three months and there was a touch of grey in his hair. His eyes were cold and hard and devoid of any expression. He looked a thoroughly dangerous man and the governor sighed. "I understand you attacked a prison officer