IV
Baird, lying on his side, his head on his arm, his back against the wall, was suddenly galvanised from his coma by the sound of a police siren.
He lifted his head, listening. The wailing note of the siren floated up the stairs like the vanguard of death. With an effort that made him feel faint and sick, he dragged himself to a sitting position. His right hand went out and pulled the Thompson gun towards him. He rested the butt against his chest, the barrel covering the stairs.
How had they found him? he wondered. He had a vague idea that he had come in a car, but his mind was too dazed and sick with fever to remember what he had done with the car. Surely he couldn’t have been so crazy as to have left it outside the house?
He looked over his shoulder along the passage. He could see the faint light of the moon coming through the skylight. If he remained in the passage, they would take him in the rear. Some of them would come up the stairs, the others would come through the skylight.
Slowly he dragged himself to Anita’s door. He reached up and turned the handle, but the door was locked. The effort sent him into a half-conscious stupor, and he lay on his side, against the door, fighting off the feeling that he was about to slip off the edge of the world.
More sirens brought him alert again. He caught hold of the door handle and dragged himself to his feet. He set his back against the door. From this position he could watch both the skylight and the stairs.
He got the Thompson under his arm with the butt against the door, his finger curled around the trigger. It wouldn’t last long, he told himself, but he’d take some of them with him. He remembered with startling clearness the same thing had happened to him in this very passage some five weeks ago. Then he had given himself up for lost, but she had saved him. It was still possible she might save him again.
Time hung in space. He waited with the patience of a wounded and trapped animal. Every now and then his head dropped to his chest, and his legs sagged, but each time he made the effort and stopped himself from sliding to the floor.
It was a long time before he heard footsteps on the stairs. He raised the gun, and waited.