Quicksand Read Online Free PDF Page B

short leashes -- two

wolf-hounds, rangy, rough-coated, excited at being brought out into the

country at night. She was talking to a police constable in a waterproof

cape, and Paul caught the tail of her latest statement as he approached.
     
     
"But we can't have maniacs terrorising people in the isolated farms

between here and Cornminster!"
     
     
-- Christ, she must be eager to have dashed home and fetched the dogs so

quickly!
     
     
"Officer!" he called. "What's going on?"
     
     
A little relieved at the interruption, the policeman turned. "I shouldn't

hang around here, sir," he warned. "We've had a report about -- "
     
     
"I know all that, thanks. My name's Fidler, Dr Fidler. I'm a psychiatrist

from Chent Hospital."
     
     
The policeman grunted. "Not one of your patients on the loose, is it?"
     
     
"No, of course not. I checked at the hospital to make sure. What are you

proposing to do?"
     
     
"Well, we're going to search the area, sir. I've sent for extra men and

a dog-handling team." A sidelong glance at Mrs Weddenhall. "As I've been

trying to explain to this lady here, though it's kind of her to offer

assistance we prefer to rely on our own experts."
     
     
"And where are they?" Mrs Weddenhall rasped. "Anyhow, like it or not

you're going to have as much help as you can use. I told my kennel boy to

ring around the neighbourhood and turn out everyone he could reach. With

guns." She set her chin aggressively.
     
     
-- I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming.
     
     
Paul swayed a little, very conscious of having drunk a lot of beer and

whisky without stopping for his evening meal.
     
     
"We can't allow that, and that's definite," the policeman said. "I don't

know who you think you are, madam, but this is our business, not yours."
     
     
"For your information, young man, I'm Barbara Weddenhall, JP, and if you

ever turn up to give evidence in my court I shall remember your face,

I can promise you that!"
     
     
The policeman blanched and recoiled. Abruptly Paul was furious.

"Mrs Weddenhall!" he said loudly.
     
     
"Yes?"
     
     
"Have you ever had any experience of rape?"
     
     
" What?" The horrified bellow was all she could utter; following it,

her voice gave out and she simpiy stood with eyes bulging.
     
     
"You ever seen a rapist, officer?" Paul continued, turning to the policeman.
     
     
"Well . . . Yes, sir. I helped to arrest one a few months ago.
     
     
"Was he marked at all?"
     
     
"Not half as bad as the poor girl he'd attacked. But yes, that was what

clinched the evidence. He was all scratched on the face where she'd tried

to drive him away."
     
     
-- Am I doing that poor devil Faberdown an injustice? I hope not.
     
     
"Mrs Weddenhall didn't see the victim of this alleged madwoman. I did. And

he had three scratches down his cheek exactly where the nails of a girl's

right hand would have put them. See my point?"
     
     
The policeman rounded his mouth and nodded.
     
     
"It's by no means certain the attack was unprovoked. Think it over.

There's another condition besides insanity where a woman -- or a man,

come to that -- can display extraordinary strength like what you'd need

to pick up a grown man and throw him at a tree, as the victim put it. And

that state is mindless terror."
     
     
"You think he went for her first, maybe?"
     
     
" Maybe. That's the important word. You're going to look pretty stupid

if you go out with dogs and guns and what you finally come up with is

some hysterical teenager."
     
     
-- Exactly what an innocent teenager would be doing walking nude around

here in February, I won't try and guess, but it ought at least to make

Mrs Weddenhall reconsider.
     
     
There was the noise of another car approaching, and the policeman cheered up

noticeably.
     
     
"That'll be Inspector Hofford, I expect," he said, and excused himself.
     
     
     
     
Hofford proved to be a matter-of-fact countryman In a tweed coat, chewing

a briar pipe. He