The Dead of Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

house.
    Most of all I felt pretty happy that day. It was because we were starting to get on well again. It only showed in little ways, but those little ways were my food, my drink, my air, my life. The others thought I was tough and independent, but I needed those five
people more than I'd ever needed anyone or anything in my entire existence.

    For all that though, we still couldn't think of a way to get into the Hospital. Night started to fall, then it fell, till it was lying all over the ground. And we still hadn't thought of anything. But I'll take a lot of the credit for the inspiration we finally had. I'd been idly thinking about Homer's crazy distraction tactic. It seemed to me that there were possibilities in the idea. He just hadn't done it right. Something was nibbling at my brain, like there was a tiny mouse trapped in there. If I could find the key I could let him out.
    "Lee," I said, when he was relieved by Fi from sentry duty.
    '"Yes", my beautiful sexy caterpillar"
    "Caterpillar?"
    "That's what you look like, wrapped up in your rug."
    "Thanks a lot. Listen, you remember that very quick conversation behind the shed, after Homer finished wailing?"
    "And frightened a poor innocent soldier out of his wits? Yes."
    "What did we say? There's something from that conversation that's bugging me."
    "Caterpillars are always bugged. That's what makes them caterpillars."
    "Very funny. But I'm serious."
    "What did we say? I don't know. We were talking about how it was probably Homer who was making the noise."
    "Yes. And then?"
    "I can't remember. Just watching the guy running in and shutting the door. Locking it so tight."'

    "Yes. Something about ... The way he was locking it."
    "You said something..."
    "Yes, I did."
    I sat there, frustrated.
    "Is this really important?" Lee said presently.
    "I don't know. I'm probably being stupid. I just think there's something there, if I can remember it and let it out. It's like watching a heifer calving. I can see the head of the damn thing but I don't know what it's going to look like."
    I got up and started walking around. We were in an upstairs sitting room, which Ms Lim must have used as a practice room. There was a beautiful black baby grand piano facing the window. Homer had written
Heavy Metal
across it in the dust with his fingers. But I had seen Lee with the lid raised, running his hands across the keys. His fingers were trembling and there was a look on his face even more passionate, more intense than when he looked at me. I'd been standing in the doorway watching. When he noticed me he lowered the lid quickly, almost guiltily, and said, "I ought to play the 1812. Get the soldiers to provide the cannons."
    I didn't answer; just wondered why he tried to turn something that he felt so strongly about into a joke. There were times when I got sick of jokes.
    But now I did a tour of the room, swatting the blind cord, spinning the piano stool, rubbing out Homer's graffiti, straightening the books, opening the front of the grandfather clock, then closing it again.
    "Let's have an instant replay," Lee said, watching me.

    "Not very instant," I said, sitting on the piano stool and facing him. "But OK, let's."
    "All right. I don't think we said much till the guy was back through the door and closing it. We abused Homer a bit, that's all."
    "Then we talked about how tightly he was locking it."
    "And how they must have professionals and amateurs, like we thought. And how this guy must be..."
    "Wait." I sat there with my hands gripping my head. Suddenly it was there. I stood. "I've got it. Let's go find the others."

    That night, as Lee and I watched Homer from our hiding place, I thought again how there were advantages to being the wildest guy in the school. Homer knew some amazing stuff. While the rest of us had been studying product differentiation and price discrimination in Economics, Homer and his mates at the back of the room had been training in urban terrorism. I don't know how