Figure it Out For Yourself

'He didn't know anything about it,' Mac whispered when I joined him. 'I'm beginning to enjoy this.' We crawled to the edge of the quarry and looked down. The blazing headlights of the two trucks lit up a scene of tremendous activity. Men were loading the wooden boxes on to the trucks, while others came staggering down the steep path from the tunnel, carrying more boxes. One of the trucks was already loaded and the other was half filled.

Standing in the entrance of the tunnel, waving his men on, and shouting at them to hurry was Barratt.

Mac's hand lifted and the sight of the .38 grew steady on Barrett's chest, but I grabbed his wrist.

'No! My girl must be down there. She couldn't have got through. I'm going to look for her. If they spot me, start shooting, and get Barratt first.'

He nodded, and I began the slow, dangerous climb down into the quarry. Every now and then I dislodged a shower of stones, and I ducked behind a bush, holding my breath. But the men working below me were far too busy getting the boxes into the truck to be on their guard.

Keeping in the shadow, I reached the bottom of the quarry. There was plenty of cover, and I worked my way silently over the ground towards the trucks.

I could hear Barrett's voice as be cursed the sweating men, telling them to hurry. I kept on until I reached the loaded truck. On its blind side, I stood up and looked inside the cabin.

Paula was in there, tied hand and foot and gagged. She turned her head and we looked at each other. I opened the cabin door and swung myself up inside.

She looked pale and a little scared, but as soon as I got the gag off she smiled at me.

'Am I glad to see you,' she said huskily.

'That makes two of us,' I said, cutting the cord that tied her wrists. What happened? Did you walk right into them?'

She nodded, rubbing her wrists while I freed her ankles.

'He still thinks you're in the mine,' she told me. 'He hasn't an idea that I've been in there. He thought I was trying to find a way in. As soon as they have finished loading, he intends to take me in there and leave me there.'

'That's what he thinks. Come on; let's get up to the top of the quarry. We have friends up there.'

Keeping on the blind side of the truck, we began to edge silently back the way I had come. When we were half-way up the side of the quarry there came a sudden yell behind us that froze us to a standstill. We looked back. Barrett was staring into the tunnel. The three men working by the truck also stared towards the tunnel. The frantic, blood-curdling yell came again. Barrett suddenly fired into the tunnel, shouted and began to run frantically down the path towards the trucks.

'The rats!' I said and grabbed Paula's arm. 'Up as fast as you can.'

Both Mary and Mac began firing into the quarry as we scrambled up the steep slope. We heard shots and yells below us, but we didn't look back nor pause until we flung ourselves, sobbing for breath, into the scrub overhanging the edge of the quarry.

Mac came charging round to join us.

'Rats!' He was pointing, his fleshy, red face tight with horror. 'Look at them! Those guys down there haven't a chance.'

I looked down into the quarry. It was alive with rats. They swarmed round the five men, who bad come together an were shooting at them. I could see Barratt waving his arms and screaming. Three enormous brutes sprang at him and he disappeared beneath a heaving sea of sleek, brown bodies. The other men were dragged down as more rats came rushing down the path from the tunnel, squealing and fighting to get at them.

I caught hold of Paula. 'Let's get out of here.' The four of us ran across the sand towards the Highway.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I

It was just after midnight when Mary Jerome, Francon, Paula and myself filed into Brandon's office. Muffin, red-faced and thoughtful, brought up the rear.

Brandon sat behind his desk and glared at us as we came in. He wasn't looking his usual immaculate self. Mifflin had hauled him out of bed to hear me repeat my story.

'Well, sit down,' Brandon growled, waving his hand to the half-circle of chairs lined up before his desk. He swung around to glare at Mifflin. 'What did you get?'

'Two truck loads of reefers and sixteen corpses,' Muffin told him.

'Barratt's dead. Only one member of the gang was alive when we got there, and he's talked. But it's Malloy's story. Do you want him to tell it?'

Brandon favoured me with a heavy scowl as be opened a drawer and took out a cigar box. He selected a cigar without offering the box to anyone and sat back.

'That's what he's here for,' he said, pointed a fat finger at Mary Jerome and asked, 'Who's this?'

'Lee Dedrick's wife,' I told him.

He started, stared at me.

'Who?'

'Lee Dedrick's wife.'

He swung round on Mary Jerome.

'That right?'

'Yes,' she said in her cold, flat voice.

'When did you marry him?'

'About four years ago.'

He put the cigar down, ran well-manicured fingers through his thick white hair.

'Does that make the Marshland marriage bigamous?' he asked in a strangled voice.