17. O’Leary Tells a Story
The next thing I remember is finding myself at the door of Room 18, my fingers on the door knob, my breath coming in gasps and my heart literally in my throat.
What would the opening of that door disclose?
I took a long, shuddering breath, pushed open the door and took a few steps forward.
Intense blackness met my eyes, but through it I heard scraping sounds and heavy breathing and the impact of flesh against flesh, and the indescribable sounds of two bodies struggling together. Instinctively I stepped inside the room, closed the door behind me, and felt along the wall for the electric button.
And at that instant a vivid flash of lightning lit up the room and I caught a glimpse of two men interlocked and swaying and I heard O’Leary’s hoarse whisper.
“Don’t—turn on—the lights! Don’t——” the rest was lost.
I stood there as if frozen to the spot, longing to take a hand in things and not daring to do so. Then all at once someone said breathlessly:
“O’Leary!”
“Yes.”