Silhouette in Scarlet - Elizabeth Peters [64]
I am a declared feminist, but I have never believed that economic and political equality (which we’re a helluva long way from having, by the way) should have anything to do with the relations between the sexes – the romantic aspects, as Schmidt would have said. Like every other woman I cherish secret fantasies. My favourite is to be short. I dreamed of having a man hold me close, with my cheek resting on his chest, not his ear. Of feeling the steady, passionate beat of his heart, not his bristly beard. Of having his lips pressed against my hair, not the other way around.
Now I was living my fantasy, and I didn’t like it.
Also, I couldn’t concentrate on the matter at hand. I kept thinking of Gus, languishing in his dank, dirty prison; of John, prowling the grounds; of Hans, who was probably halfway in the room by now, the lousy Peeping Tom . . .
‘I can’t,’ I gasped, and rolled off the far side of the bed.
‘Liebchen, mein Schatz, mein Herzliebchen – ’
‘Yes, right,’ I gabbled, tucking my blouse into my jeans. ‘I’m sorry, Leif, I’m really sorry. I can’t stand it, it’s too much. Max is probably going to shoot me tomorrow or the next day, and Hans is watching every move we make, and I – I’m just not in the mood, dammit.’
In case he harboured any doubts as to my sincerity, I burst into tears.
The flood quenched Leif’s ardour. Possibly the idea of providing a free peepshow for Hans didn’t appeal to him either. He was very nice. He patted me and told me to get a good night’s sleep. ‘I promise you, on my honour, that you will not be harmed,’ he said solemnly. ‘And when this is over – ’
‘Yes. Oh, yes Leif . . . No, Leif. Remember Hans.’
Somehow I made it back to my room, trying not to see Rudi’s knowing grin. My hands were shaking so badly it seemed to take forever to get out of my clothes and into my nightgown. I was disgusted with myself, but I couldn’t help it. The night air felt bitterly cold. Even after I had gotten into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin I couldn’t stop shivering.
I was reluctant to close the shutters, even though it was still exasperatingly light outside and Hans was on the prowl. I could hear the crunch of gravel under his feet as he walked up and down. I assumed – I hoped -John had managed to get out while Hans was playing voyeur. I wondered how he planned to get back in. Maybe he had counted on me to keep up the distraction. Too bad. There are limits.
I was still awake, twisting and turning, when I heard an outrageous burst of noise outside – a shrill caterwauling of animal rage, a deeper howl that sounded equally inhuman. Heavy footsteps pounded along the path. My curtains billowed and a dark form slid into the room and fell across my feet.
‘Scream,’ John said breathlessly. ‘It won’t take him long to – ’
‘You’re squashing my legs.’
‘Scream, damn it!’ He grabbed a handful of my nightie and tried to tear it. I defy Muhammad Ali to rend a wad of Dacron; it just stretches, interminably. John swore, I started to laugh – an insane, high-pitched giggle that afflicts me in times of stress. He flung back the covers and swung the rest of his body into the bed. I yelped. His feet were bare, and as cold and clammy as those of a corpse.
‘Louder and faster,’ said my seducer. I obliged with a series of shrieks, ranging from ‘Rape’ to ‘Fire.’ The response was gratifyingly prompt. It was nice to know I need not fear being raped or set on fire in that house. Killed, maybe, but not sexually molested or immolated.
Rudi was the first to arrive. He had the presence of mind to switch on the light. Max and Leif were right behind him; they all stared. John had his hand over my mouth, to keep me from laughing, and I was wriggling as I tried to get his elbow out of my stomach.
I squirmed out from under him and sat up. His dark slacks and sweater were dry, but his skin had the slimy dankness of a fish’s scales. When I saw Leif’s face I stopped laughing. He came at the bed in a rush. I bounded up and threw myself in front of John, who had prudently retired into the farthest-possible corner. He made no attempt to