Figure It Out for Yourself

I

THE next morning, I was kept busy with the routine work of the office until lunch-time. I missed Kerman, as there were many little jobs that had to be done, and which, now he was in Paris, I had to do myself. But by one o’clock I was through, and could give my attention once more to the Dedrick kidnapping.

‘I’m going along to Barratt’s place this afternoon,’ I told Paula while we were eating a quick snack in the office. ‘I have a little present I want to plant on him.’

I told her what I had cooked up with Mifflin.

‘Once we get Barratt alone, and on a charge, we might be able to soften him. Tim thinks he can, anyway.’

Paula didn’t approve of the idea, but then she never ap-proved of anything that wasn’t strictly dealt off the top of the deck.

‘What do you plan to do—wait until he’s out?’ she asked.

‘That’s the idea. It’ll cost money, but then I’m getting hardened to spending money. I’ll bribe Maxie to give me the passkey.’

‘Be careful, Vic.’

I grinned at her.

‘You’re always telling me to be careful. What’s the matter with you these days? You didn’t talk like that two years ago.’

She gave me a quick, worried smile.

‘I suppose I know you better. I wish you’d stick to our usual business, Vic, and cut out these dangerous jobs.’

‘I’m not doing this for fun. If Perelli hadn’t saved my skin, nothing would persuade me to stick my oar in this. He’s not much of a guy to take risks for but he took a risk for me. Barratt might easily have knifed me. I guess I have to go on until I square the score.’

It was half past one when I parked outside the apartment house in Jefferson Avenue.

Maxie was lolling against the counter of the reception desk as I walked across the lobby. There was no girl at the switchboard. The telephone harness was on the counter where he could reach it

‘Want some money?’ I said briskly. ‘I have some for you if you’re going to be co-operative.*

He eyed me suspiciously.

I never refuse money. What do you want?’

‘Your pass-key.’

If I had let off a shotgun he wouldn’t have been more startled.

‘My-what?’

‘Pass-key, and make it snappy. It’s worth fifty dollars, cash on the nail.’

The small eyes blinked.

‘Fifty bucks?’ he said wistfully.

I spread five tens on the counter. If this spending jag kept up, I’d be ruined in a few more days.

He eyed the notes, licked his lips, scratched the side of his nose.

‘I could get slung out,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I can’t do it.’

I laid two more fives on the counter, bent over them and breathed on them gently.

‘That’s the limit,’ I said, and smiled at him. ‘Your pass-key for ten minutes.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Barratt’s room. Is he out?’

The small eyes grew round.

‘Yeah; he went out about an hour ago.’

‘What are you worrying about, then? It’s not as if he’s a friend of yours.’

‘I’d lose my job,’ he said thickly. ‘Sixty bucks wouldn’t keep me off the bread line for more than a week. It ain’t worth it.’

‘Well, all right, if that’s how you feel about it’ I pushed the bills into a neat pile, folded them and put them in my hip pocket. I wouldn’t want you to have a sleepless night.’

‘Now, wait a minute,’ he said, tilting his bowler hat to the back of his head and wiping a shiny forehead with his sleeve. ‘I ain’t fussy how I sleep. Make it another ten, and it’s yours.’

‘Sixty’s my top. Take it or leave it’

He struggled with his conscience, groaned, nodded his head.

‘The key’s hanging by the switchboard. Gimme the dough.’

I slid him the sixty and he hurriedly stuffed the notes into his pocket.

‘Sure Barrett’s out?’ I asked.

‘Yeah; I saw him go. No one’s up there.’ He looked furtively around the lobby. ‘I’m going to draw myself a can of beer. Make it snappy, and for Gawd’s sake don’t let anyone see you go in.’

I gave him a second or so to get out of sight, then leaned over the counter and unhooked the key from behind the switch-board.

The elevator took me up to the fourth floor. I walked along the corridor to apartment 4B15. In the apartment opposite someone was playing the radio. Somewhere down the passage a woman laughed shrilly. I pressed my ear to the door panel of 4B15, but heard nothing. I rapped, listened, waited, but nothing happened. I looked to right and left. No one was watching me. Silently I slipped the pass-key into the lock, turned it gently and pushed open the door.

The man in the fawn suit was sitting in an armchair facing me. He held a .45 in his lap, the barrel pointing at my chest. He gave me a thin, cold smile.

‘Come in,’ he said. ‘I thought it might be you.’

The moment I heard that deep baritone voice I knew who he was, and couldn’t understand why I hadn’t known it before.

‘Hello, Dedrick,’ I said, stepped inside the room and closed the door.

II

‘Don’t make any sudden moves, Malloy,’ the man in the fawn suit said and lifted the gun. ‘No one on this floor would bother about the sound of a gun, and I’m in the mood to make a mess of you. Sit down.’ He waved his other hand to an armchair, facing his on the other side of the fireplace.

He couldn’t have missed me at that range, and I had an idea he wasn’t bluffing so I sat down.

‘You’re quite a puncher,’ he went on, and his hand touched the back of his neck tenderly. I’ll have a stiff neck for weeks, damn you!’ His hard, black eyes roamed over my face. ‘Bit of luck, you walking in like this. We’d made up our mind to get rid of you as soon as we could. You’re getting a nuisance.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I said. ‘The trouble is I’m full of theories and have no proof. Does Serena know you’re here?’

He shook his head and grinned

‘No; she hasn’t an idea. Make yourself at home. There’re cigarettes by your elbow. We have a little time to kill before anything can happen. Barratt’ll want to talk to you. Don’t try anything funny unless you’re tired of life, will you?’

I lit a cigarette while he watched me, his finger curled round the trigger of the .45, its barrel continuing to point at my face.

‘Be careful with that gun,’ I said. It looks very dangerous from this end.’

He laughed.

‘You don’t have to worry. It’ll only go off if you don’t behave yourself.’ He stubbed out the cigarette he was smoking, reached for another and lit it I sat still while he did so. The expression in the hard black eyes told me he would shoot if he had to.

‘If I’d known you were going to be so damned interfering, I wouldn’t have called you in the first place,’ he went on. ‘I thought it was smart at the time. I acted that little scene well on the phone, didn’t I? And the untouched whisky, and the burning cigarette were nice touches, too.’

‘Yeah, very pretty,’ I said. ‘But did you have to shoot Souki?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He frowned, as if he didn’t like being reminded of Souki. ‘He asked for trouble, and he got it’

‘And was it you who framed Perelli?’ I asked.

‘That was Barrett’s effort. It has a way of settling debts. Perelli had it coming to him, anyway. It was a bright idea. At one time the heat was getting top fierce, but now they have Perelli in a cell, everything is fine and dandy.’

‘Don’t be too sure. The police are looking for you for the Gracie Lehmann killing.’

‘You don’t have to worry about me,’ he said lightly. ‘You worry about yourself.’

The door into the apartment opened and Barratt came in. For a second or so he stood rooted, staring at me, then he moved into the room, closing the door, his thin, handsome face lighting up.

‘How did he get in here?’ he asked.

‘He had a key,’ the man in the fawn suit said, and got to his feet. ‘Better check to see if he’s wearing a rod.’

‘Get up!’ Barratt said to me.

I stood up.

He came to me from behind and ran his hands over me. He found the .38, jerked it out of the

shoulder holster. Then he found the box of reefers.

He stood away while he opened the box, then gave me a sneering little smile.

‘Very smart. Where were you going to plant them?’

‘Oh, somewhere,’ I said. ‘You can’t expect to hold the monopoly of planting evidence.’

He tossed the box on the table, came over to prod me with my gun. ‘How did you get in?’

‘Took the pass-key. It hangs by the switchboard downstairs. Didn’t you know?’

He went through my pockets again, found the pass-key and tossed that on to the table.

He looked at Dedrick.

‘He’s lying, of course. Maxie must have given it to him. Well, all right; it’s about time I fixed

Maxie.’ He took out a silver cigarette case, selected a cigarette, stuck it on his lower lip. As he lit it, his eyes browsed over my face. ‘I owe you something, Malloy. You’ll find I’m good at paying off old scores.’

‘Can’t imagine you’d be good at anything, but I’ll take your word for it,’ I said.

‘What are we going to do with him?’ Dedrick asked.

Barratt moved to the mirror over the fireplace and admired himself.

The mine, of course,’ he said. There’s no better place for him. He’ll take a nice long time to die.’

Dedrick grimaced.

‘Why not put a slug through his head and leave him here? I don’t want to go down there again. It gives me the horrors.’

‘You’ll do what I tell you,’ Barratt said and ran his thumbnail along his thin moustache. Tie his hands.’

Dedrick went out of the room. He returned in a few seconds with a roll of two-inch-wide adhesive tape.

‘One wrong move, and you’ll get it,’ Barratt warned me, raising the gun. Put your hands behind you.’

I put my hands behind me. There was nothing else I could do at the moment. Dedrick wound a length of tape around my wrists. He made a good job of it.

‘Round his mouth too,’ Barratt said.

Dedrick taped my mouth, crushing my upper lip against my teeth.

Barratt came over and stood before me, smiling viciously.

‘I’m going to make you sorry you interfered with me,’ he said, and hit me across the face with the gun-barrel. I staggered back. The back of my knees collided with the arm of the chair and I went over with a crash that shook the room.

‘Take it easy!’ Dedrick said, alarmed. ‘We don’t want anyone coming up here.’

Barratt snarled at him, came over to me and kicked me in the ribs. He kicked very hard, and I felt my ribs bend under the impact.

‘How about Maxie?’ Dedrick asked. ‘We’re wasting time, Jeff.’

‘Get him up here,’ Barratt said, and kicked me again.

Dedrick picked up the telephone receiver.

‘Mr. Barratt is asking for you,’ he said into the mouthpiece. ‘Please come up.’

Barratt grabbed me by my coat front, hauled me to my feet and slammed me into the armchair.

‘We’ll fix Maxie, and then we’ll blow,’ he said. It’s time I changed my address. Leave him to me.’

He stood against the wall by the door.

Dedrick faced the door.

There was perhaps a five-minute wait, then a rap came on the door.

‘Come in,’ Barratt said.

The door pushed open. Maxie came in. His round, fat face was sullen, and his lower lip was pushed out aggressively.

Dedrick kept the .45 down by his side, out of sight.

‘Come in and shut the door,’ he said.

Maxie gaped at me, changed colour, came into the room and shut the door.

‘What goes on here?’ he demanded.

Dedrick raised the gun and pointed it at Maxie’s paunch.

‘Did you give him the pass-key?’

Maxie glared at me.

‘If he said that, he’s lying. What are you pointing that gun at me for? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?’

‘It’ll probably be fatal,’ Dedrick said, and smiled.

Barratt moved silently up to Maxie and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Hello, little brother,’ he said.

Maxie nearly jumped out of his skin.

‘Hey! What’s the idea? Who’s this guy with the gun?’ He tried to make his voice sound tough, but his eyes showed alarm. ‘Guns ain’t allowed in this building. I’ll have to report it.’

‘I’m afraid you won’t have the time,’ Barratt said. ‘I’m a little sick of you, Maxie. Now Gracie’s gone, I think we might get rid of you too.’

Maxie’s mouth fell open. He looked with horror first at Dedrick and then at Barratt. Hurriedly he put up his hands.

‘I won’t make any trouble, Mr. Barratt,’ he said. ‘You can rely on me…’

He caught his breath in a strangled gasp when he saw the knife in Barratt’s hand.

‘Sorry, Maxie.’ Barratt poked the knife into Maxie’s side,. ‘You’ve seen too much, and you’re too great a nuisance. Go into the bathroom.’

Maxie fell on his knees, his face turning green.

‘Don’t touch me, Mr. Barratt,’ he said between locked teeth.

‘I promise you…’

Barratt clubbed him over the head with the gun-butt, driving him to the floor.

Maxie fell forward on his hands, shaking his head, groaning.

‘Give me a hand with him,’ Barratt snarled.

Dedrick and he grabbed Maxie and hauled him across the room to a door that led into the bathroom.

As Dedrick released Maxie to open the door, Maxie suddenly stumbled to his feet, hit out at Barratt and made a staggering rush to the door of the apartment.

Barratt swung his gun and clubbed Maxie to his knee again. They dragged him into the bathroom. There was a struggle, and Maxie began to yell. The dull, heavy sound of a blow stopped the yelling. There came a rasping, choking gasp and Dedrick backed out of the bathroom, his face white and set.

The gasping noise continued, making me feel sick. After a while the sound petered out

Barratt appeared in the doorway. He looked at me and showed his teeth.

‘It’ll be your turn in a little while, my friend,’ he said. ‘But you won’t get it the easy way.’ He turned to Dedrick, who was watching him. ‘All right, take him away. Careful how you go. If you run into trouble, shoot him.’

‘You don’t expect me to take him alone, do you?’

‘Why not? I’ve got to get rid of Maxie. We’ll have to move.

‘What are you worrying about? Shoot him if he tries anything funny.’

‘And get a load of law on my neck.’

‘Shoot them too,’ Barratt said and laughed.

Dedrick hesitated, then shrugged.

‘Better lend me a coat to hide his hands. I’ll bring it back when I’ve planted him.’

Barratt went into the bedroom, came out a moment later, carrying a light overcoat.

Dedrick hauled me to my feet.

‘I’ll be using your car,’ he said. ‘One false move, and I’ll blast you.’

Barratt draped the coat over my shoulders, and wrapped a silk scarf around my mouth to hide the tape.

‘We shan’t meet again, Malloy,’ he said to me. ‘Maybe I’ll see you, but you won’t see me.’ He shoved me towards Dedrick. ‘Get going.’

Dedrick took my arm and led me into the passage.

There was no one to see us get into the elevator. When the elevator came to rest at the ground floor, Dedrick dug the gun into my side.

‘Don’t forget, one false move and you get it,’ he said I could see sweat running down his face.

We walked into the lobby. He shoved me across the stretch of carpet to the front entrance, down the steps to the Buick.

Two girls were walking up the drive. They glanced at us without interest, passed us and entered the lobby.

Dedrick opened the rear door.

‘Get in!’

As I bent forward to get in the car, Dedrick smashed his gun butt down on my head.

III

My mind came fumbling out of a dark pit. Consciousness returned like a hangover on a foggy morning. First, I became aware of a throbbing pain in my head, then, as I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on my back, the beam of a flashlight playing on my face. I grunted, turned my head and tried to sit up. A hand on my chest shoved me back.

‘Stay parked,’ Dedrick growled. ‘I’m just bedding you down.’ His fingers picked the end of the tape loose that bound my mouth. When he had enough purchase, he gave it a quick hard pull, skinning it off my mouth. That hurt, and I grunted again.

The light was bothering me, but the dank, cold air and the darkness beyond the beam of the flashlight bothered me more.

‘What’s going on?’ I growled.

‘You’ll find out.’

I felt something tight around my waist. Bending my head I could see Dedrick fastening a thick chain, looped round my middle, with a padlock. I looked beyond him at the rough-hewn walls, supported by blackened props of wood.

‘Where’s this—the mine?’ I asked.

‘Yeah; a hundred feet below ground.’ He snapped the pad-lock shut and stood away. ‘This isn’t my idea, Malloy. You heard what he said. I’ve nothing against you. I’d put a slug through your head if it wasn’t for him. He’ll come and look at you tomorrow.’

‘Is he going to leave me here to starve to death?’ I asked, testing the tape that bound my hands. There was no give in it at all.

‘You won’t starve.’ He paused while he lit a cigarette. I saw his hand was unsteady. ‘You won’t have time to starve.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ll find out. If you give me your word not to start anything until I’ve gone I’ll undo your hands. At least, it’ll give you a fighting chance.’

I was beginning to feel spooked.

‘If I get my hands free, I’ll probably strangle you,’ I said ‘I scare easy, but not that easy.’

‘Don’t talk like a fool. You don’t know what you’re up against. Turn over. I’m going to free your hands.’

I turned over, and he shoved his knee in my back as he pulled the tape loose. He was out of range before I could grab him.

I pushed myself into a sitting position. I couldn’t stay upright: the chain holding me was too short, but it was a nice feeling to have free hands again.

‘I’ll leave you a light,’ Dedrick said. That’s about the best I can do for you.’

‘You have a bad dose of conscience.’ As I rubbed my wrists trying to restore the circulation, I stared up at him. ‘What’s going to happen?’

‘I don’t know.’ He looked down the long tunnel, lifting his torch and throwing the powerful beam into the inky blackness. ‘Take a look at that. Your guess is as good as mine.’

The beam of the torch rested on what looked like a heap of rags. I peered at it; saw bits and pieces of what once had been a lounge suit.

‘There’s a skeleton under those clothes,’ Dedrick said, and I heard his breath whistle down his nostrils. ‘We left him here for not more than twelve hours, and that’s what he turned into: rags and bones, and not a damn thing else.’

‘Who is it?’ My voice sounded hollow.

‘Never mind who it is.’

I decided it couldn’t be anyone else but Lute Ferris.

‘It’s Ferris, isn’t it?’

‘Just another guy who was a nuisance,’ Dedrick said, and wiped his face with his handkerchief. ‘Something’s eaten him.’ He looked uneasily into the darkness. ‘There’s some kind of animal down here: maybe a lynx.’ He took another flashlight from his hip pocket and tossed it to me. That’ll keep you company. If you hear Barratt coming, put it out of sight He’d murder me if he knew I’d left you a light.’

‘Well, thanks,’ I said, and flung the beam of the torch he had given me on to his face. ‘Why not go the whole way and let me free? You’re hating this, Dedrick. Come on; you might still beat the rap, and if you get me out of this, I’ll do what I can for you.’

‘Not a chance,’ he said. ‘You don’t know Barratt. He’s the last man anyone in their right minds would cross. So long, Malloy. I hope it’s quick.’

I sat still, watching the beam of his torch growing smaller and smaller as he walked down the long tunnel. And as the light grew fainter, the darkness around me came down with a choking thickness that brought me out into a cold sweat. I snapped on the torch. The white light sent the heavy, solid blackness back, almost as if it was alive. But it crouched just beyond the beam, waiting to pounce on me again.

My first move was to examine the chain locked around my middle. It was too strong to snap, and the padlock was solid and heavy. I traced the chain to the wall. It was fastened to a staple, embedded in solid rock. I caught hold of the chain in both hands, braced one foot against the wall and strained backwards. Nothing happened. I braced myself again and pulled until my sinews creaked. I might just as well have tried to pull over the Empire State Building.

I flopped back on the rock floor, panting, my heart going like a steam-hammer. If I was to get out of here, somehow or other, I had to work the staple loose. No one would ever think of looking for me here. Paula would go to the apartment house on Jefferson Avenue. She might find Maxie. But that wouldn’t get her very far, or me either. She’d go to Mifflin. But what could Mifflin do? Why should anyone look for me in the shaft of a disused, ruined mine?

I was getting into a panic now. It was like being buried alive. My eyes kept going to the heap of tattered clothes lying about ten yards from me: all that remained of Ferris.

There s some kind of animal down here.

All right, I admit it. I was ready to run whimpering into a corner if I could have run. I was ready to yell for help at the top of my voice if it would have done any good. I’ve had the shakes more than once in my life, but nothing like the shakes I was getting now.

For about a minute I sat as still as death, getting hold of myself, telling myself not to dive off the deep end, calling myself every insulting name I could think of, while I fought off the panic that sat on my shoulder and leered into my face. I fought it off, but it left me sweating and cold and as limp as a length of boiled string.

I got out my cigarettes, split half of them before I could get my ringers round one of them. I got it alight, and lay back against the wall, drawing in smoke, and blowing it out again while I stared at the white light of the torch that stood between me and the darkness.

I had no idea how long I was going to be down here. The battery wouldn’t last much longer than a couple of hours of continuous burning. I’d have to conserve it, even if it did mean sitting in the dark.

I counted my cigarettes. I had seventeen. Even that little red spark could be comforting, and while I smoked the torch would have to go out.

So I put it out.

Back came the choking, heavy darkness so thick I could feel it, and with it came my panic, nudging my elbow, making me sweat again.

I sat there in that awful dank darkness for what seemed an hour, smoking the cigarette, watching the glowing end, con-centrating on it and trying to forget the black walls that pressed in on me.

When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I switched on the torch. I had sweated right through my clothes, and my watch told me I’d been sitting in the darkness for eight minutes.

I began to get worried then: really worried. If I was ready to walk up a wall after eight minutes of darkness, what would I be like in an hour, a day or even two days?

I put the torch on the floor by my side and laid hold of the chain again. I pulled and jerked at it in a mounting frenzy, until I heard myself yelling curses at it. I stopped that, and sat down again. I felt as if I’d run ten miles; even the muscles in my legs were fluttering. Then I heard something.

Up to now the only sound in this old shaft, a hundred feet below ground, had been my breathing, the thump-thump- thump of my heart and the fainter tick of my watch. But now a new sound made me turn my head and look into the darkness.

I listened, holding my breath, my mouth half open, my heart hammering. Nothing. Slowly I reached for the torch, sent the beam down the long tunnel. Still nothing. I turned off the light and waited. Minutes ticked by. Then it came again: a gentle rustle, something moving cautiously, a pebble dislodged: sharp, violent sounds in the silence; sounds that wouldn’t have been heard except for the quiet of this shaft where a feather settling on the ground would have been a disturbance.

I touched the button on the torch. The beam cut into the darkness like a razor cutting into flesh.

For a split second I saw something that looked like two glow-ing sparks: something that could have been the eyes of some animal; then they vanished, and I was struggling up on my knees, leaning forward, peering, trying to see.

You’ll find I’m good at paying off old scores. I gave him full marks. Those few seconds were, up to now, about the worst seconds I have ever lived through, and the thought that it wasn’t over gave me a sick feeling in my belly. I lit another cigarette, and kept the light on. I decided I’d keep it on until it went out, then I’d make the best of it, but so long as the light was on, I felt pretty sure whatever it was out there in the darkness would keep its distance.

I sat there smoking, listening to the thud of my heart and trying to think how to get the staple out. But my brain felt as if it was wrapped up in cotton wool. My thoughts kept darting into the darkness; useless and frightened.

Then I saw the red embers again; just out of reach of the light of the torch. I didn’t move, but kept my eyes on the two fiery beads that hung in the darkness, watching me.

More minutes ticked by. I couldn’t make up my mind if they were coming closer or I was imagining it. So I waited, cold, stiff, scared, holding my breath for as long as I could, breathing silently through my open mouth when I had to.

They were coming closer: very cautiously and silently, and something was beginning to take shape. I could make out a ferret-shaped head and the outline of a sleek, round back. Still I didn’t move. One of my legs had gone to sleep, but I scarcely noticed it. I wanted to see what I was up against. I hadn’t long to wait. Into the beam of the torch moved a rat. Not an ordinary rat, but a monster: a nightmare of a rat, almost as big as a full-grown cat, measuring at a guess over two feet from nose to tail.

It came forward into the light, less cautiously now, looking towards me, its sleek, brown fur glistening in the hard light of the torch.

Close by my hand was a fair-sized stone. My fingers reached for it. The rat stopped moving. I snapped up the stone and threw it in one movement.

There was a rustle, a streak of brown, and the rat was gone, long before the stone hit the spot where it had been.

Well, I knew now. I knew what had turned Ferris into a heap of rags and bones. I knew too when that brute got hungry it wouldn’t run away.

I looked around for more stones, and began making a little pile of them within easy reach. I examined the ground near me. Under dust and pebbles I discovered a short length of wood. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was something. If I had to tackle this one rat, chained as I was, I felt I could lick it, but the back of my mind I was beginning to wonder if there was more than one, and if so, how many. Again my eyes strayed to the heap of rags. A lot more than one rat had done that.

I held the club in my right hand, the torch in my left and leaned my back against the wall. I waited; and somewhere in the darkness, not far away, the rat waited too.

IV

The luminous hands of my wrist watch pointed to twenty minutes past four. I had been in the shaft a little over two hours. I had five cigarettes left, and the light of the torch was turning orange. I had been switching it on and off every five minutes for the past half-hour while I waited and listened, trying to make it last as long as possible.

I had heard no sound nor seen anything. The stale, dank air was making me feel sleepy. It was only by smoking and concentrating hard on the glowing tip of the cigarette that I managed to keep awake. I had tied my handkerchief round my throat to offer some resistance if the rat went for me. It gave me an optimistic feeling of safety.

I had got over my panic—or, rather, I had worn it out. There’s a limit to fear, and after the first hour I had got on top of it. But I had given up all hope of getting out of this jam. My one thought was to kill the rat before it killed me. Beyond that I had no thoughts.

The two hours had dragged by like two months. There was nothing to do except smoke and watch and listen, and think of the rat. The hands of my watch crawled on.

Then the rustling sound began again. The sound of the hard rings around the rat’s tail rubbing along the floor. I threw a stone in the direction of the sound and heard a little scurry. Well, he wasn’t hungry yet. I threw another stone to drive him farther away.

The dying light of the torch worried me. I turned it off, sitting now in the darkness, breathing gently and listening. I sat there for perhaps ten minutes with my eyes closed, and I must have dozed off. Then something happened that drove the blood out of my heart and brought me wide awake: something touched my foot and moved along my leg.

I snapped on the torch, a cold prickle shooting up my spine, my left hand grabbing at the club. For one horrible moment I saw the rat within inches of me, creeping towards me, pressed flat on the ground, its red eyes gleaming viciously. As the yellowing beam of the torch hit it, it swerved away and was gone, moving like lightning, and leaving me gulping in the close air, petrified and sweating.

Then out of the darkness, beyond the feeble light, four pairs of red sparks suddenly appeared, spaced about a foot apart and in a semicircle before me. Four now, not one.

I yelled at them: my voice harsh and off-key, but they didn’t move. I grabbed a handful of stones and threw them. The red eyes vanished, but reappeared almost immediately, a little closer, if anything. I yelled again.

‘Vic!’

I started up.

Had I imagined that faint call, somewhere in the darkness? I raised my voice and let out a yell that echoed like a thunder-clap down the tunnel.

‘Vic! Where are you?’

‘Here! Down the tunnel!’

I was so excited I forgot the rats. I was yelling now like a madman, and my yells changed to a yelp as a furry brown body suddenly streaked into the light and teeth snapped with a click into the folds of the handkerchief round my neck.

I felt the weight of its body on my chest, and smelt the dirt in its fur. Its wet nose was thrust under my chin as its teeth tried to cut through the folds of the handkerchief to get at my throat.

I nearly went crazy. Grabbing the sleek, horribly fat body, I tore it away from my throat. I felt it twist in my hand. The loathsome pointed head whipped round and razor-like teeth fastened into my wrist. In a kind of frenzy I dug my fingers into the fur, bent its back sideways, hearing its shrill squeal. The teeth came out of my wrist. Before it could strike again, I snapped its spine, feeling the bone go like a dry stick between my fingers. Shuddering with horror I threw the brute away from me.

‘Vic!’

‘Here!’

My voice croaked.

At the far end of the tunnel I saw a tiny pin-point of light.

‘I’m coming.’ Paula’s voice: the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

‘Down here. Mind how you come. There’re rats.’

‘I’m coming.’

The light moved steadily towards me, growing brighter. A minute or so later Paula dropped on her knees beside me, and caught hold of my hands.

‘Oh, Vic!’

I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and tried to grin at her, but my face felt frozen.

‘Paula! Jeepers! Am I glad to see you! How did you get here?’

Her hand touched my face.

‘It’ll wait. Are you hurt?’

I raised my hand. Blood welled from my wrist. If I hadn’t had the handkerchief round my throat the brute would have nailed me.

‘It’s all right. A rat took a fancy to me.’

She took off her white silk scarf and tied it tightly round the wound.

‘Really a rat?’

‘Yeah. I killed it. It’s behind you.’

She looked quickly over her shoulder. The beam of her torch fell on the brute. She caught her breath in a stifled scream.

‘Uuugh! Are there any more like that?’

‘One or two. He was particularly persistent. Do you wonder I sounded scared?’

She went closer and peered at the rat, then drew away with a shudder.

‘It’s enormous. Let’s get out of here.’

‘I’m chained to the wall. Barratt’s idea of getting even.’

While she examined the chain, I told her briefly what had happened.

‘I have a gun, Vic. Do you think you could shoot up one of these links?’

‘We can try. Here, give it to me, and get out of the way. The slug may ricochet.’

She put a .25 into my hand and went a little way down the tunnel. The third slug cut the link. The noise of the shooting deafened me.

Slowly and painfully I crawled to my feet. She came back and supported me.

‘I’ll be all right in a moment. I’m stiff, that’s all.’ I began to hobble up and down, restoring my circulation. ‘You haven’t told me how you got here. How did you know I was down here?’

‘A woman phoned. She wouldn’t say who she was. "If you want to save Malloy, you’d better hurry," she said. "They’ve taken him to the Monte Verde Mine." She hung up before I could ask her who she was or how she knew. I just grabbed a torch and a gun and drove like mad to the mine.’ Paula shook her head ruefully. ‘I ought to have got Mifflin. I really lost my head, Vic. I don’t know what I was thinking about.’

‘That’s all right You’re here and I’m free, so what does it matter?’

‘But it does. I’ve been wandering about in this awful place for hours. If I hadn’t heard you yell, I was going to yell myself. You don’t know what it’s like down here. Every tunnel looks alike.’

‘I’ll get you out. Come on, let’s try.^’

‘What’s that?’

She was peering at the heap of rags and bones.

‘Lute Ferris,’ I said, and moved stiffly over to the rags. I flashed my torch on them. Even the skull had been picked clean. In the centre of the forehead was a small hole. ‘So they shot him. Now, I wonder why.’ I examined what was left of his clothes, and discovered a leather wallet. Inside, was a car’s registration tag made out to Lute Ferris, two five-dollar bills and a snapshot of a girl I recognized as Mrs. Ferris. I put the wallet back where I had found it and stood up.

‘We’ll have to bring Mifflin down here.’

Paula was staring at the heap of bones.

‘Did the rats do that?’ she asked in a low, horrified voice.

‘Well, something did. Come on. Let’s go.’

She looked a little fearfully into the darkness.

‘You don’t think they’ll come after us, do you, Vic?’

‘No. They won’t bother us. Come on.’

We started off down the tunnel. I used my torch. The light was feeble, but if this was going to be a long job, we’d need Paula’s torch later.

Half-way down we came to another tunnel that turned to the left. I remembered Dedrick had gone that way.

‘Round here,’ I said.

‘Why not straight on?’

‘Dedrick went this way.’

We turned left and went on for about a hundred yards. At end of the tunnel, another tunnel, intersecting it, went away into darkness both to the right and left.

‘Now which way?’

‘Toss for it. Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘Let’s go right.’

We went right. The ground was uneven and after walking some minutes, I realized we were going downhill.

‘Now, wait a minute. This goes down. We should be going up. We’d better go back and try the left-hand branch.’

‘You see what I mean?’ There was an edge to her voice I had never heard before. That’s what’s been happening to me. I’ve walked for hours.’

‘Come on.’

We went back to the intersection and started off down the fennel to the left. We walked for perhaps five minutes then suddenly we were confronted by solid rock.

‘I—I don’t think you’re going to be much better at this than me,’ Paula said breathlessly.

‘Take it easy.’ I was a little worried about her. She was usually so cool and unruffled. I had an idea she wasn’t far off hysteria at this moment. ‘Maybe that other way goes down and then up. We’ll try it.’

‘I was crazy to come down here alone!* She caught hold of my arm. ‘Why didn’t I get Mifflin? We’re lost, Vic. We could go on like this for weeks.’

‘Come on,’ I said sharply. ‘Don’t waste time talking a lot of mush. We’ll be out of this in ten minutes.’

She made an effort, and when she spoke again her voice was calmer.

‘Sorry, Vic, I’m rattled. I’m terrified of being underground like this. I feel shut in and buried.’

‘I know. Now, get hold of yourself. Once you start feeling sorry for yourself, you’re sunk. Come on, kid.’ I linked my arm in hers and we set off again.

The ground sloped steeply and we began to descend into what seemed a black pit.

Suddenly my torch went out.

Paula clung to my arm, stifling a scream.

‘It’s all right. Put yours on,’ I said. ‘Mine was due to fade. It’s a wonder it’s lasted so long.’

She gave me her torch.

‘We’d better hurry, Vic. This won’t last long.’

‘It’ll last all we want.’

Having someone to steady made it easier for me. But we increased our pace, both knowing we would be in a bad spot if the torch failed us before we could find a way out of the mine.

We kept going down, and the farther we went the more stifling the air became. Then to add to our troubles the roof of the tunnel became lower with every step we took.

Suddenly Paula stopped.

‘This isn’t the way!’ Her voice was high-pitched. ‘I know it isn’t! Let’s go back.’

‘It must be the way. Dedrick turned left at the end of the tunnel. I watched him. Come on, let’s look a little further.¹

‘Vic; I’m scared.’

She backed away from me. I could hear her rapid breathing, and I flashed the light on her face. She was white and her eyes were wild looking.

‘I—I can’t stand any more of this! I’m going back! I can’t breathe!’

I was having trouble with my breathing too. There was a tight feeling around my chest and every lungful of air I took in had to be fought for.

‘Another hundred yards. If it doesn’t take us anywhere we’ll go back.’

I caught hold of her arm and pulled her along. Fifty yards farther on, there was another intersection. The air was very] bad now.

‘There you are,’ I said. ‘I told you we’d come to something. We’ll go right. If it goes down we’ll turn back and try the other way.’

She went with me.

Every new tunnel we came to was exactly like the others. We might just as well be walking up and down the same tunnel of all the progress we seemed to be making. And as we went on into the darkness, walking became more difficult. My legs felt heavy, and I had to make a continuous effort to move them. Paula was gasping for breath, and I had to help her along.

But at least the floor of the tunnel wasn’t going down. If anything, it was going up.

‘I’m sure we’re on the right road now,’ I gasped. ‘We’re climbing.’

She leaned more heavily on me.

‘The air’s awful. I – I can’t go much farther.’

I put my arm round her and helped her along. The roof of the tunnel was getting lower. We had to bend our heads. Another twenty yards and we were bent double.

We stopped, gasping for breath.

‘We must go back, Vic!’

She pushed away from me and began to stagger back the way we had come. I stumbled after her, jerked her round.

‘Don’t act the fool, Paula! Now, come on. You’re getting into a panic.’

‘I know,’ She clung to me. ‘I can’t help it. It’s this awful darkness.’

I could feel her trembling against me.

‘Let’s sit down for a moment. We’re going to get out of this; only, you’ve got to keep calm.’

We sat down, and immediately discovered the air was a lot better near the floor of the tunnel. I pushed her flat and lay beside her.

After a few minutes the tightness around my chest and the weights around my limbs went away.

‘This is better.’

‘Yes.’ She half sat up, pushing her hair off her face. ‘I’m behaving awfully badly. I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do it again.’

‘Forget it,’ I said and took her hand. ‘You’ve got a touch of claustrophobia. You’ll get over it. Feel like moving? We’ll crawl some of the way. Keep your nose close to the ground. I’ll go first.’

We crawled over the rough ground, bruising our hands and knees. After a while we had to stop again. I was sweating, and my breath rasped at the back of my throat. Paula flopped beside me: all in.

‘Do you really think we’ll get out?’ she asked in a small voice.

‘Yeah; we’ll get out,’ but my voice carried no conviction. ‘We’ll take it easy for a few minutes; then we’ll go on.’

I was beginning to realize that Dedrick couldn’t have come this way. It looked as if we had taken a wrong turning somewhere. The thought of being in this mine much longer was beginning to get on my nerves.

Suddenly she gripped my arm.

‘What’s that?’

I listened.

Somewhere in the mine, I had no idea how far away or how near, there came the sound like rain falling and the soft rustle of dry leaves.

‘What is it, Vic?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘It sounds like rain.’

‘Can’t be. Keep still!’

We sat motionless, listening.

The pattering sound was nearer now: a sound of a thousand little leathery feet running over pebbly ground. I knew what the rustling sound was. I’d heard it before: only it wasn’t one or four, but hundreds.

The rats were on the move!

V

I jumped to my feet.

‘Come on. Let’s see how fast you can run.’

‘What is it?’ Paula said, scrambling up.

I grabbed her hand.

‘Rats! Now, come on. Don’t be frightened. We’ll lose them.’

Bent double, we ran down the tunnel. The pattering sound behind us grew louder. We blundered on, stumbling over stones, banging against the rough walls, but keeping up some sort of pace. The tunnel curved to the right; turning the corner, we found more head room. After a few yards it was possible to stand upright

‘Stretch your legs,’ I said, and increased my speed, dragging her along with me.

The going was easier now. We kept on, gasping for breath, running blindly into the darkness. The tunnel seemed endless. Suddenly Paula lurched and would have fallen if I hadn’t swung round and steadied her. She leaned against me, sobbing for breath.

‘I’m done!’ she gasped. ‘I can’t go any farther.’

‘You can, and you’re going to!’

I put my arm round her and forced her on, but we had gone only a few hundred yards when her knees buckled and she sprawled on the ground.

‘Give me a minute. I’ll be all right. Just give me a minute.’

I leaned limply against the wall, my ears cocked, while I struggled to control my laboured breathing. The pattering sound had died away, but I knew we wouldn’t have more than a moment’s respite.

‘We’ve got to keep moving.’

Away in the distance, the pattering sound began again. Paula staggered unsteadily to her feet.

‘Come on,’ I said and, supporting her, went forward at a staggering jog-trot.

After a while she got her second wind, and we began to run again. The sound behind us had become ominously close. Somehow, probably spurred on by the squeaking and pattering behind us, we managed to increase our speed. We came to another intersection and without pausing to think, I swung right, dragging Paula with me. We pelted down a long, high tunnel.

Ahead of us the tunnel began to narrow. I flashed the beam of the torch to see where we were going. Before us was an archway, no more than a hole in the wall.

‘In here,’ I panted, pushed her through the archway and staggered in after her.

We found ourselves in a big, lofty cave. As I swung the beam around, lighting up the walls, I saw a great pile of wooden boxes standing in the middle of the cave.

Paula cried, ‘There’s no way out, Vic!’

She was right. We had blundered into a cul-de-sac. There was no escape now. We couldn’t go back. The rats were already rushing down the outside tunnel.

‘Quick! Block the entrance with those boxes! It’s our only chance!’

We rushed to the pile of boxes, grabbed one apiece, staggered with them to the entrance, dumped them and jumped back for two more. We had the first row in place when we smelt the rats.

There was something blood-curdling and ghastly in the smell that drifted into the cave as the pattering feet came rushing down the long length of the tunnel.

‘As fast as you can.’

I grabbed hold of two boxes, dragged them across the floor, swung them into place. As Paula ran back for another box, I turned the beam of the torch into the outside tunnel. The sight that met my eyes sent a chill up my spine.

The whole of the narrow floor of the tunnel was carpeted by a heaving mass of brown, furry bodies. The sound of their shrill squeaking, the rustling tails and pattering feet made a nightmare sound of horror.

I snatched out the .25 and fired twice into the seething mass. The crash of gunfire rolled down the tunnel, deafening me, and setting up echo upon echo.

The awful brown carpet swerved, but there was no room for them to retreat. Swarms of rats, stretching the length of the tunnel, prevented those in front from getting away.

The two bullets had brought down three of the monsters, and the rest of them flew at the bodies, piling one on the other, their razor-like teeth slashing and hacking while the air was filled with their horrible, piercing squeals.

I grabbed a box from Paula and set it in place, rushed back and dragged two more across the floor and heaved them up.

As Paula lifted hers into position, a rat sprang through the gap and knocked her over.

Her frantic screams brought me rushing to her. She was flat on her back, hitting out at the rat with both hands, while it snapped viciously, trying to get past her beating hands to her throat

I smashed the gun butt down on its back, grabbed it and threw it over the wall of boxes in one movement.

There was no time to find out if she was hurt. I slung the box she had dropped into the gap and rushed back for more.

She was on her feet now, and came staggering over to help me. We had completed the second row, making a wall four feet high, but it wasn’t enough. The entrance to the cave would have to be entirely blocked if we were going to be safe. Even then, with their numbers and weight, the rats might push over our improvised wall.

‘Keep going,’ I panted. ‘A double row.’

We toiled on, dragging the boxes across the floor, slamming them into place, rushing back for others.

The noise outside was horrifying, and every so often the boxes swayed as the mass of struggling bodies thudded against them.

‘There’s another in!’ Paula screamed

She dropped her box and backed away, her hands protecting her throat.

I swung the beam of the torch, saw something streaking at me through the air, and threw up my arm.

The brute bit into my sleeve, just missing the flesh and hung, its feet scrabbling at my arm.

I dropped the torch, grabbed at its neck, missed, fumbled, and felt its teeth snap into my hand. As it snapped again, I got my grip and broke its back. I tossed it through the remaining gap in the wall and lifted the last box, pushed it into position, sealing the wall.

Paula picked up the torch and came over to me. We examined the wall of boxes. The rats were scrabbling at them, but they were holding.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘One more row and we’ll be safe.’

‘You’re bleeding.’

‘Never mind. Let’s get one more row in place.’

We dragged more boxes across the floor and piled them into position. We were both practically out on our feet, but we kept on somehow until the third row was built up. Then we both flopped down on the floor, exhausted.

After a few moments, Paula made an effort and sat up.

‘Give me your handkerchief and let me fix your hand.’

She bound up the wound, and then flopped down beside me again.

‘What wouldn’t I give for a bottle of Scotch?’ I muttered, slid my arm round her and gave her a little hug. ‘Well, you can’t say we don’t get some excitement, can you?’

‘I’d rather not have it,’ Paula said, her voice shaky. ‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life. Do you think they’ll go away?’

To judge by the hideous uproar going on outside, they were set for weeks.

‘I don’t know. Not for some time, anyway. But don’t worry, they can’t get in.’

‘But, Vic, we can’t get out. And if they do go away, we still haven’t found how to get out of here, and the torch won’t last much longer.’

While she was speaking, I examined the walls of the cave with the beam of the torch. Finally the beam rested on the remaining boxes in the middle of the floor.

‘Let’s see what’s inside these boxes,’ I said, getting stiffly to my feet. ‘You take it easy while I look.’

I pulled down one of the boxes and found the lid nailed down. By dropping it on its corner I got it open. Inside, I found row upon row of neatly packed cigarettes.

‘Reefers!’ I exclaimed. ‘This must be Barratt’s storehouse. What a haul! There must be millions of them.’

Paula struggled to her feet and came over.

‘He couldn’t have carried all this stuff down that outside tunnel,’ I said excitedly. ‘Hunt around. There must be another way out of here.’

The walls were solid enough, so I turned my attention to the floor. It was Paula who found the cunningly concealed trap-door. By treading on one end, the other lifted sufficiently to get a purchase on it.

Together we lifted the trap. A blast of fresh air came surging into the cave.

‘This is it,’ I said, and flashed the torch into the darkness, below. Rough stone steps led down into a passage. I went first. As we reached the bottom step, we could see sunlight coming into the far end of the tunnel.

We went forward down the passage until we reached the opening. The strong sunlight blinded us for a moment. Below us was a wilderness of scrub bushes and sand. We seemed to have come out on the side of a deep quarry. A zigzag path led from the opening of the tunnel down into the quarry.

I was standing in the sunlight, with Paula behind me, when I heard a distant shout

It was only then that I saw, far below me, two big trucks, half hidden in the scrub and half a dozen or so men staring up at me, and pointing. As I stepped hastily back into the darkness, they began to run towards us.