She looked at the coffin, and her mouth opened to scream. I put my hand over her mouth, but she struggled, frantic with fear.
I hated doing it, but there was no other way out. I half closed my fist and hit her on the side of her jaw. Her head snapped back, she passed out cold.
Feverishly I straightened her out in the box, whipped in the false bottom and turned the screws. Then I grabbed the long, black overcoat, struggled into it. I put on my glasses, put the pads into my mouth. I stepped across to Maxison and dragged him to the porcelain table.
“Get that body in,” I snarled at him, and grabbed the stiff, cold shoulders.
Somehow he managed to pull himself together, and taking the woman’s feet, he helped me across the room with her, and together we lowered the body into the coffin. It only just fitted, and I knew the lid would have to be forced down. I snatched up the lid, had it on the coffin as the door was flung open.
Flaggerty and three prison guards stood in the doorway.
I acted like I was scared, backing away and throwing up my hands. Maxison didn’t have to act. He thought his last hour had come.
Flaggerty, sweating, white with rage, gave us a quick glance, then looked around the room.
“Anyone been in here?” he grated, glaring at Maxison.
Maxison shook his head. He couldn’t speak he was so scared.