“Here he comes,” Forest said, leaning farther out of the window. “He’s hanging on with one hand…”
Conrad felt the rug they were standing on shift suddenly as Forest leaned still farther out of the window. He saw Forest lurch forward and grab frantically for the window sill. Conrad snatched at Forest’s coat, braced himself as he felt Forest over-balance. For one horrible moment he thought the coat was going to be wrenched out of his grip, then Forest managed to get a hold on the windowframe and heave himself back into the room.
“For God’s sake…” Conrad gasped.
Forest was white-faced and shaken.
“Thanks, Paul,” he said huskily. “Hell! I nearly went out. That’s a long way down. Phew! I guess the rug slipped… .”
Conrad stood rooted, his face white. Above the returning roar of the aircraft both men heard a wild, terrified scream that chilled their blood.
“What’s that?” Forest exclaimed.
Conrad flung himself across the room, wrenched open the door and ran blindly down the corridor to Frances’s room.
Two of the guards were coming from the opposite direction. Conrad beat them to the door and threw it open.
The two police women were standing away from the open window, whitefaced and like statues.