Here, the blinds weren’t drawn. I crawled on hands and knees across the room, raised myself, looked out of the window.
Lois Spence was out there, I saw her distinctly. She was wearing dark slacks and coat. She was looking up at the upper window. I could have shot her easily enough, but I hadn’t the stomach to shoot a woman.
Clair joined me. We squatted on our heels, side by side, watching Lois, who continued to stare up at the upper windows. The moonlight was bright enough for me to see she still favoured Fatal Apple make-up. She looked as coldly disdainful as she had always looked.
“I’d like to give her a fright,” I said, “but as long as Bat keeps out of sight, we’ll play possum.”
“Where is he?” she whispered, her hand on my arm. I was surprised it was so steady.
“I haven’t seen him yet,” I said. “When I do I’m going to make a little hole in his hide. I’m taking no risks with Bat.”
Lois suddenly turned, walked away, heading for the front of the house.
Faintly we could hear through the closed window a clink of metal against metal.
“What’s that?” Clair asked, stiffening.
I listened. Something metal dropped on the concrete, out of sight. It came from the gas-pump section of the station.