"Trumble—Minna Trumble. I thought I told you."
"Maybe you did. Maybe I didn't get it."
Nora felt the hysteria welling again. "How long are you going to keep doing this?" she asked.
Leroy Davis cocked his head as he looked at her. "Doing what?"
"Play cat and mouse like this. Holding us on a pin like flies in an exhibit."
Leroy Davis smiled brightly. "Like a butterfly in your case, honey. A big, beautiful butterfly."
"What are you going to do," Frank Brooks snapped. "Whatever it is, let's get it over with?"
"Can't you see what I'm doing?" Davis asked with genuine wonder. "Are you that stupid? I'm being the boss. I'm in command and I like it. I hold life and death over four people and I'm savoring the thrill of it. You're pretty stupid, mister, and if you use that 'can't get away with it' line, I'll put a bullet into your left ear and watch it come out your right one."
Jim Wilson's fists were doubled. He was again approaching the reckless point. And again it was dulled by the gradually increasing sound of a motor—not in the air, but from the street level to the south.
It was a sane, cheerful sound and was resented instantly by the insane mind of Leroy Davis.