bedroom. The door shut.
Sweeting relaxed.
He had better go. At least he now had twenty dollars. That would meet his rent, but it wouldn’t leave him anything in hand. He suddenly realized how hungry he was. He hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and Leo must be starving too.
No harm in seeing what she had in her ice-box, he thought. A chicken or a ham would be acceptable.
Softly he tiptoed across the passage to the kitchen door, gently turned the handle, found the light switch and turned it on.
Facing him was a massive refrigerator, and his eyes lit up with eager anticipation. He paused to listen, but heard nothing. Sneaking across the polished floor he took hold of the refrigerator handle, gently lifted it and pulled.
The door of the refrigerator swung back.
A thin, frightened scream came out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he jumped back, shuddering.
Sitting, hunched up on the floor of the refrigerator, his face a bloody mask, his lips drawn off his teeth in a snarl of death, was Maurice Yarde.