The Thousand Faces of Night - Jack Higgins [47]
He found it an effort to mount the stairs and when he passed along the corridor he could hear the murmur of voices from Papa Magellan's room as Maria talked to her father. For a moment he paused, undecided whether to go in or not, and then he went on to the far end of the corridor and opened the door of his own room.
He pulled off his jacket and sat wearily down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes. He started to unbutton his shirt, but suddenly the effort seemed too great and he fell backwards. As his head struck the pillow he dived head first into darkness.
He came awake to find a hand on his shoulder. Mac was leaning over him, warmly dressed in a jeep coat with a woollen scarf round his neck and gloves on his hands. Marlowe sat up with a start and looked at his watch. It was almost seven-thirty and outside the sky was darkening rapidly.
'Why on earth didn't you wake me?' he said as he swung his legs to the floor.
Mac grinned. 'There wasn't any need, man. I managed to do most of the loading on my own and that old guy Dobie who works in the greenhouses, turned up to help me finish.' He smacked one gloved hand against another. 'Well, I'm raring to go. If anyone gets in my way tonight I'll roll straight over them.'
Marlowe pulled on his shoes and stood up. 'That's the style,' he said. 'Have you got the shotgun in the cab?' Mac nodded and Marlowe went on: 'Good, it gives you some kind of insurance, but don't stop for anything or anybody.'
Mac grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. 'Don't worry about me, man. Nothing's going to stop me this time.'
They went downstairs and out into the yard where the truck stood waiting. A chill breeze was blowing carrying a hint of rain with it and Marlowe shivered. 'It looks like being a murky night.'
Maria appeared from behind him, the thermos flask and a packet of sandwiches in her hand. 'Be careful,' she urged Mac as she handed them up to him.
He grinned down at them and revved up the engine. 'Don't you worry about me, Miss Maria. I feel really lucky tonight. Just like I used to feel before a big fight.'
He waved once and the truck lurched away across the yard, paused for a moment at the gate, and moved into the darkness, its red tail light growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared.
Maria sighed as she turned to go back into the house and Marlowe said, 'Don't worry, angel. He'll be all right this time.'
'I hope so,' she said. The telephone started to ring from the living-room and she went to answer it. After a few moments she returned, annoyance on her face. 'It's for you.'
Marlowe was surprised. 'Who is it?'
'Find out for yourself.' Maria tossed her head and disappeared into the kitchen, banging the door.
As Marlowe approached the telephone he could hear a voice calling anxiously. He picked up the receiver. 'Hugh Marlowe here. Who's speaking?'
'Hugh, is that you? Thank God you're still there.' It was Jenny O'Connor and she sounded frightened.
'So you decided to return after all,' Marlowe said. 'I hoped you'd have more sense.'
'Never mind that now.' She was almost sobbing. 'I must see you. Can you come to the flat?'
He frowned. 'I'm rather busy at the moment.'
'Please, Hugh, I'm in terrible trouble. You must help me.' There was desperation in her voice.
For a moment he hesitated and then he sighed. 'All right. Where are you.'
'At the flat,' she said. 'How soon can I expect you?'
He glanced at his watch. 'About eight-thirty.' She started to say something else and he cut her short. 'You can tell me when I get there,' he said and replaced the receiver.
He went up to the bedroom for his jacket and a scarf. When he came downstairs Maria was standing in the hall, drying her hands on her apron. 'Well, what did she want?' she demanded.
For a moment he was tempted