IV
Johnny and Rose had been listening to the shooting.
Rose leaned against the wall, her face white and her eyes large. Johnny sat on the edge of the bed, holding his gun in his lap, his face twitching.
“He shouldn’t have tried to get away,” Rose said fearfully. “It was my fault. He’ll be killed.”
“Shut up!” Johnny snarled. “Let me listen.”
More gunfire rolled above them.
“I didn’t know he had a gun,” Johnny muttered. “He’s shooting it out with them!”
“But aren’t there two guns firing at them? Listen!”
“Yes, you’re right.”
Two guns! Johnny immediately thought of Tux and Solly. Were they up on the roof? Had they somehow found out where he was and in coming after him had run into the cops?
He pushed himself off the bed and slowly stood up. It was as much as he could do to stand upright, and he had to hang on to the bedpost to steady himself.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” he said thickly.
“You can’t go now — listen!” Rose said.
From the noise going on outside in the alley, it sounded as if the police were right under the window.
A voice shouted, “Get some more men up there! What the hell are you playing at?”
More gunfire crashed above their heads, and Rose flinched, crouching down.
Johnny moved slowly over to the door.
“Don’t be a fool!” Rose cried. “Stay where you are!”
Suddenly there was a tremendous crash of breaking glass and a thud of a heavy weight just outside the door.
Johnny recoiled, staggered, and sprawled on the floor.
“What’s that?” Rose whispered, her hand over her mouth.
“Someone’s got in!” Johnny gasped. “Put out the lamp!”
Rose ran over to the lamp, turned down the wick and blew out the flame. She stood in the darkness, her heart hammering, while she listened to a slow dragging sound outside as if someone were crawling along the passage.
“Lock the door!” Johnny panted.
She blundered to the door. As she groped for the key, she felt the door open, and she caught her breath in a sharp scream.
She threw her weight against the door in an endeavour to shut it, jut it jammed.
Leaning against the door, she groped down into the darkness. Cold fingers suddenly closed over her wrist; fingers that gripped into her flesh like a vice.
She screamed wildly, tried to wrench free, but the grip didn’t slacken.
Hearing her scream, Johnny crawled up on hands and knees. He remained crouched in the darkness, cold sweat on his face.
Rose felt the door moving against her, and opening. She struck downwards with her free hand, and her fist encountered a face.
She heard a man curse, then she was jerked savagely forward and she fell across a body that lay on the floor.
Terrified and desperate, Rose struck out while she screamed wildly.
Tux let go of her wrist and hooked her close to him. He had only one hand, but that was enough. He scarcely felt her fists beating against his face; his hand reached for her throat. He held her while she scratched at his face. Her finger-nails cut one of his eyes and he cursed. Then he tightened his grip on her savagely. Her hands scratched and tore at his fingers; then he felt the girl go suddenly limp against him. He threw her off, reached inside his coat for his gun and lay panting while he tried to locate where Johnny was.
Johnny had remained still, listening in terror to the sounds coming out of the darkness.
Now he could hear Tux’s heavy breathing. He knew Tux was no more than a few feet from him, but he was too frightened to fire, knowing if he missed the gunflash would give away his position.
Tux felt as if red-hot wires were being drawn across his belly. He didn’t think he could hang on much longer.
“Are you there, Johnny?” he whispered, the .45 thrust forward while he strained his ears for the slightest sound.
Johnny held his breath. Cold sweat ran into his eyes; hit heart hammered so violently he thought he was going to faint.
Then he heard a heavy thud in the passage, followed by two more thuds, and he knew the police had broken in.
He knew what the police would do. They would take no chances. They would kick the door open and spray the room with riot guns. Nothing living in the room would survive.
He lost his nerve.
“Keep out!” he screamed wildly. “Don’t shoot!”
Tux’s .45 went off with a deafening roar. The slug caught Johnny in the centre of his forehead, scattering his brains.
Tux flopped back, tried to lift his gun again as the door kicked open.
He couldn’t find the strength to raise the gun, and a blast of machine-gun fire ripped open his chest.