The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [341]
“You, of all people, should know that I’ll use this, Dr. Kreizler,” I heard Libby Hatch say. “Now get up here—and move very slowly.”
As the Doctor climbed on up, I saw that I had a moment where I’d be out of view; so I scrambled down and fetched Miss Howard’s gun, shoving it into my pants and covering it with my shirt so’s to make it look as if I was still unarmed. Then I hurried back up the ladder, hoping to make Libby think that I hadn’t had time to make the play.
It worked. Once the Doctor was up on the roof I saw Libby’s golden eyes—wide and crazed by this point—move into the hatchway and fix on me. “You, too, boy,” she said, obviously not knowing I was now armed. “Get up here!”
I followed the order, making sure to keep my movements slow and easy enough so as not to shake the Colt loose. When I’d got clear of the hatchway, Libby slammed it closed and, pointing the gun first at the Doctor and then at me, used her free hand to drag Miss Howard’s body over on top of the hatch cover, a move what would make it tough for anybody to open the thing from below. Standing up straight, Libby kept moving her gun back and forth from me to the Doctor, trying to decide what to do and looking more unbalanced and wild than I’d ever seen her.
“Which one, which one,” she mumbled. Then she grabbed the Doctor’s arm and stuck the pistol to his head. “Put your hands in the air. You do the same, boy, and then stay very still, if you want to keep the Doctor’s great brain in one piece.”
Looking over to see that Miss Howard, though out cold, was still breathing regularly, I raised my hands halfway up: any higher, and I would’ve revealed the Colt tucked into my pants. Believing that both the Doctor and I were going to do what she told us, Libby seemed to relax a little: she used one hand to straighten first her hair and then her dress, which I noted was the same red-with-black-lace job what we’d first seen her in. At that point her look of craziness gave way to something what might’ve almost passed for regret.
“Why?” she asked, looking at the Doctor.
“I should have thought that would be obvious,” he answered, keeping his hands up.
Before Libby could answer, a particularly loud round of hollering and screaming came rising up from the street, and she turned toward it. “Do you hear that?” she said. “That’s your fault—all of yours! None of this had to happen!”
“If we’d left you free to continue murdering children, you mean?” the Doctor asked.
“Murdering them?” Libby answered, now looking positively injured. “All I did, all I ever tried to do, was help them!”
The Doctor gave her a sideways glance. “I believe you mean that in some way, Elspeth Franklin,” he said quietly.
She nodded once, her golden eyes filling with tears; then she stamped a foot suddenly and angrily. “If you believe that, then why have you been hounding me like this?”
“Listen to me, Elspeth,” the Doctor went on. “If you surrender yourself, there may be a way to help you—”
Libby’s voice grew cold and mean: “Of course—in the electrical chair, you lying bastard!”
“No,” the Doctor insisted, still quietly. “I can help you. I can try to make the authorities understand why you’ve done these things—”
“But I’ve done nothing!” Libby hollered, full of new desperation. “Can’t you see that?” She paused, studying the Doctor’s face. “No. No, of course you can’t. You’re a man. What man could understand what my life has been like—why I’ve had to make the choices I have? Do you think I wanted any of this? It wasn’t my fault that it happened!”
I figured the only way I was going to be able to make a move for the Colt was to try to get the woman even more upset and off balance than she already was: so, though I knew the Doctor wouldn’t have approved, I began to taunt