“Who?”
“t-h-e m-u-r-d-e-r-e-r”
Both glanced swiftly at Horst. He was speechless, his face a study in blanched terror.
“h-e k-n-o-w-s” added the raps. There was something indefinably malicious about their sound.
“Stop it!” Horst’s voice was strangled, scarcely audible. “Stop it!”
Jensen was unmoved.
“How many of you?” he asked.
Lyngstrand, fascinated by this conversation with the unseen, was grateful for the question.
“t-h-r-e-e h-u-n-d-r-e-d a-n-d e-i-g-h-t g-l-o-u-c-e-s-t-e-r c-i-t-y h-u-n-d-r-e-d a-n-d f-i-v-e r-e-s-c-u-e-d o-t-h-e-r s-h-i-p-s f-o-u-r h-u-n-d-r-e-d a-n-d t-h-i-r-t-e-e-n i-n a-l-l”
“All men?” queried Jensen.