As soon as I reached the next landing I turned off the lamp and stood against the wall. Before I did so I caught a glimpse of a door near the head of the staircase. Just as I got away from it, the door jerked open. A thin guy with a black hat crushed on his head stepped on to the landing.
“Hey, Joe,” he called, peering down over the banisters. “What the hell you playin’ at?”
When a guy leans over a rail like that, there is only one thing to do. I did it. Moving fast, I hooked my fingers under his trouser legs and heaved. Although he was thin he was heavy, but I’d put enough steam into my heave to launch him okay. Away he went with a startled howl.
After that I didn’t get anywhere. A hoarse voice said behind me, “Hold the pose… exactly like that.”
I had visions of a gun covering my back, but for all that I turned my head. The gun was there all right. The guy who was holding it looked mean. He was short and fat with close-cropped white hair. By the way he held the gun, I could see he knew how to use it.
“Okay,” I said quickly, “I’ll be good.”
“Come away from there, lug,” he said. He’d got a very hoarse voice, as if his larynx had gone back on him. “Keep your hands up an’ don’t start any funny business.”
While this was going on a lot of noise was coming from downstairs. I’ve heard bad words in my time, but what came floating up from the darkness was enough to set the river on fire.
The fat guy said, “Stand with your mug against the wall. I’ll drill you if you make a wrong move. Don’t let me tell you twice.”
I did as I was told. It struck me that maybe I was in for a bad time. My only hope was that I’d put those other two out of action.