The Thousand Faces of Night - Jack Higgins [53]
Monaghan's face turned purple. With a strength born of panic he kicked forward desperately and caught Marlowe on his right shin. Marlowe grunted in pain and his grip slackened. The Irishman staggered back against the wood railing. As Marlowe came forward he struck out at him desperately. Marlowe took the punch on one shoulder, slammed his left into Monaghan's belly and lifted his knee as the Irishman started to bend.
As the terrible blow in the face sent him backwards, Monaghan bounced against the wooden rail. There was a splintering crash as it gave way and he disappeared below with a single cry.
Marlowe moved forward to the edge of the landing and looked down. He gave a sudden roar of rage. Monaghan had fallen no more than ten or twelve feet on to a great mound of potato sacks. As Marlowe watched, the Irishman rolled to the bottom, lurched to his feet and staggered towards the splintered door through which Marlowe had entered the building. He paused once at the door to glance fearfully over his shoulder, and then he disappeared.
Marlowe jumped down on to the pile of potato sacks, lost his balance, and tumbled to the bottom. He picked himself up and ran across the floor to the door. As he emerged from the warehouse, an engine coughed into life and a small yellow van moved across the square and vanished up a side street.
He pulled himself up behind the wheel and turned the truck towards the street that led to Jenny O'Connor's flat. He was praying that Monaghan had not been lying and that he would find O'Connor there. The quality of the fury which possessed him was such that he was conscious of only one burning thought. He was going to kill O'Connor.
Now he had the definite, final proof from Monaghan's own lips. O'Connor had planned his death, but the plan had misfired and Papa Magellan had died instead. It was fitting that O'Connor should make full and final reparation.
He parked the truck and ran through the rain into the little court. He leaned against the bell, pressing with all his force without stopping, so that the sound of it filled the entire house.
The door opened and Jenny stood before him. He brushed her aside and moved towards the lounge. As he came into the room, O'Connor rose from a seat by the fire, alarm on his face.
Jenny came hurriedly into the room behind him. 'For God's sake, what is it, Hugh?' she demanded. 'What's happened?'
Marlowe kept his eyes fixed on O'Connor. 'Papa Magellan's dead,' he said.
A curious expression appeared on O'Connor's face, and he took out a handkerchief and held it to his lips. Jenny gave a shocked gasp. 'Oh, no, Hugh! Not that poor old man. How did it happen?'
Marlowe nodded towards O'Connor. 'Ask him,' he said. 'He'll tell you. He knows all about it.'
'I don't know what you're talking about,' O'Connor said.
'You bloody swine,' Marlowe said deliberately. 'I've just dealt with Monaghan and he told me what happened. You got him to fix the brakes of one of the trucks. You expected me to go out in it, but unfortunately the old man took the truck out instead.' He laughed savagely. 'Would you be interested to know how he died? I'll tell you. He went through a wall, sixty feet down into a ravine. Then he fried. Have you ever smelt burning human flesh, O'Connor? I have. It's something you never forget.'
O'Connor seemed to be choking into his handkerchief. He took it away from his lips and gasped, 'I didn't have anything to do with it.'
Marlowe started to move towards him. 'I'm going to kill you, O'Connor,' he said. 'I'm going to kill you with my bare hands.'
The fat man dipped his left hand into his pocket. When it came out he was holding an automatic pistol. 'Keep away from me,' he said. He seemed to choke and his face was, beginning to turn purple. 'You're going to listen to me, you damned fool.'
As Marlowe paused, O'Connor gurgled horribly and fell backwards into his chair, the pistol slipping from his nerveless