“Call ’em off, doctor,” he said tremulously.
“Your gun—on the table.”
Still the rustling sound was audible. Cuccini hesitated for a second, then obeyed, and took up the notes.
The other three men were huddled together by the fire-place, the picture of fear.
“Don’t open the door, doc,” said Cuccini, but Oberzohn had already gripped the handle and turned it.
They heard another door open and the click of the passage light as it had come on. Then he returned.
“If you go now, I shall not wish to see you again. Am I not a man to whom all secrets are known? You are well aware!”
Cuccini looked from the doctor to the door.
“Want us to go?” he asked, troubled.
Oberzohn shrugged.