“I’ll tell you wh-where the key is,” she managed to say. “It’s—it’s in the small drawer of my desk under that pile of typewriter ribbon.”
He looked at Judy shrewdly. He knew better than that. Judy was not used to deceiving people and her timidity betrayed her.
“You lie!” he shouted. “That key’s on you and I know it. But I don’t need a key. I’ll break down the door!”
“And rouse the whole hotel?” Judy asked quietly.
His hands clutched her throat now. “Then give me the key!”
She could feel it, the cold little key that she had thrust down her neck. It felt colder still when her breath was short. She tried to scream but found she could make no sound. It was then that she thought of his hands on Irene. His relentless hands....
CHAPTER XXIII
TO THE RESCUE
“This way, officer. Here’s the suite. Judy!” Peter Dobbs shouted.