“What the hell’s the matter with me tonight?” he growled irritably, throwing down the pack of cards. He walked over to the window and threw it wide open.
The night was hot and still. The full moon, floating just above the distant roof−tops, flooded the street below with a silvery light. He stood watching the traffic for several minutes, letting the hot air fan his face.
Then, just as he was about to return to the room, he paused. He leant far forward, looking into the street. His eyes tried to probe the shadows. Except for an occasional car the street was deserted. The guard, who should have been standing by the entrance, was no longer there. Mendetta couldn’t believe his eyes. For three months now the guard had stood there, his hand on his gun, watching those who entered the block of apartments. No one could go in who roused his suspicions. For three months Mendetta could look down on him, and smile to himself, confident in his safety. This came as a great shock to him.
He turned back to the room hurriedly. His first thought was to ring Grantham and tell him to send one of the mob over fast to investigate, then he hesitated. It wouldn’t do for Grantham to think that he was getting soft. He tried to remember if he had a gun in the place. It was such a long time since he had had a gun. Maybe Jean had one.
He crushed down the little panic that was beginning to form in his brain. This wouldn’t do, he thought angrily; the guy down there maybe was standing inside the hall where he couldn’t see him. The best thing would be to ring down to the hall porter and find out.
As he went over to the house phone he heard a key turn in the front−door lock. He stiffened, and stood waiting. He was furious with himself to find that his mouth had gone very dry.
The door opened and Jean came in. She was wearing a smartly cut black two−piece suit. She came in slowly, as if she were tired.
Her presence reassured Mendetta, who said angrily, “Where the devil have you been?”
Jean didn’t say anything. She stood looking at him, her eyes very scared, and her face thin and bony.
Mendetta repeated, “Where have you been? Did you know the guard ain’t on the door? Was he there when you came up?”