Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

Andree and Julie pulled him down as he reached the front door. Andree traced three livid marks on his face with her nails. Grantham began to sob for breath. He kicked them away and bolted upstairs.

Lu was helpless in the hands of the girls who had seized him. There was a girl hanging on to each of his limbs, pinning him to the floor. His clothes were in ribbons and his face was a mask of blood where they had clawed him. He screamed on a high note with terror as they dragged the rest of his clothes off him.

Fan fought her way to him, pulling off the girls and throwing them on one side. “Let me get at the heel!”

she shrilled. “I'll teach him somethin'. Get out of the way!”

The girls drew back, their faces savage and lustful. They crowded round again, as Fan knelt over the sobbing man.

“Get a knife, someone,” she shouted. “I'm goin' to fix this guy so he doesn't play around any more.”

A knife materialized from somewhere and was handed over the heads of the girls. Fan seized it.

Lu gave a horrible strangled scream when he saw the flash of steel, and when she laid hands on him he nearly went mad. “Don't do itdon't do it!” he screamed. “Nononoaaah! Aaaaah!”

The girls suddenly drew away, leaving him lying there. A long ribbon of blood ran towards them so that they drew further back, shuddering.

Fan, her eyes gleaming madly, shrilled, “What are you waitin' for? Where's the other one?”

In a body they stampeded for the door. Andree and Julie had already gone upstairs. They could hear them thumping on a door.

Fan, her hands covered in blood, ran up the stairs, with the others behind her. They brushed the two girls away from the door and threw themselves forward. The door creaked and bulged, but held.

Grantham backed against the wall, terrified. He rushed to the window and threw it up. Far below him he could see cars passing and people moving about in the streets. He leant far out of the window and began to yell at the top of his voice.

Faces turned towards him. People stopped and pointed. Cars came to a standstill, and people got out to look at him. He saw a policeman move towards the house with a slow measured tread. Behind him he heard the door creak, and he yelled again, his voice going off pitch with terror.

Then with a crash the door flew open, and he spun round, his back to the window.

Fan stood there, her hair wild and her eyes savage. He saw the bloodstained knife gripped in her hand and he turned back to the window. He heard his own voice screaming in panic as he tried to climb out.

They all came across the room in a wave. Hands seized him and dragged him back. He went down under them with a thin wail of terror.

11

September 8th, 5.30 p.m.

RAVEN glanced at the clock and stood up. It was time he got back to his hotel. He nodded to Maltz. “It's goin' all right,” he said. “We'll have to open some more houses. The girls are comin' in now faster than we can handle them.”

Maltz grunted. “The cops at Denver are workin' on this, boss,” he said. “There's been a hell of a lot of squawks from that town. Maybe we ought to ease up on the girls there.” Raven nodded. “Sure,” he said; “put a little more pressure on Cleveland. When things start getting hot, try somewhere else.”

He went to the door. “I'm goin' back now,” he said. “You might go over to the 22nd tonight. I'm expecting a batch of girls to come in. Grantham's gettin' too busy to handle that sort of thing now.”

Maltz said he would, and Raven went out. He walked down the stairs, his face thoughtful. All the afternoon he had been worrying. He knew someone wanted to get his finger−prints. When the St. Louis house dick had brought him the cigarette−case his suspicions had been aroused. It couldn't be the authorities. They would never have used a broken−down flatfoot like Harris.

The last three months of easy living had not blunted his finely developed sense of self−preservation. He had got on too well to risk anything now.

Out in the street he hesitated before calling a taxi. Something told him that he shouldn't return to the hotel.

Yet, he told himself savagely, he'd got to. All his dough was there.

As he neared the hotel he leant forward and told the driver to go straight on past. He crouched back in the cab and examined the hotel carefully as they went by. He saw nothing there to alarm him. Still he wasn't satisfied. He stopped the taxi at the next block and paid him off. Then he went into a phone booth and rang his apartment. The clerk said apologetically that he could get no answer. He asked sharply if his wife was out.

The clerk told him he hadn't seen her go. Raven hung up.

By now he was a little alarmed. He wondered if Grantham knew anything. When he rang Grantham's office he was told that he was out, but was expected any minute.

“Where's he gone?” he asked.

The girl said, “To Madam Lacey's house.”

Raven hung up and immediately rang Madam Lacey's. A hard voice answered him. It was a man's voice he couldn't place. He asked for Grantham.