had won the second round as well. The search had moved away from the roof. For the moment. The sirens cut off and the bustle moved down to the ground below. There were shouts and the slamming of doors, racing of engines as cars moved out into the night.Not soon after – wonder of wonders – the lights began to go out. The first search was over. I started to doze – then jerked myself awake.
‘Dummy! You are still in the soup. The search has been made, but this joint is still sealed tight. And you can bet your last buck that starting at first light they will go through every nook and corner. And they’ll be up here with a ladder this time. So withthat in mind it is time to move.’
And I knew just where I was moving to. The last place they would look for me this night.
Through the trapdoor one last time, and down the darkened corridor. Some of the inmates were still muttering about the events of the night, but all of them appeared to be back in their bunks. Silently I slipped down the stairs and up to cell 567B. Opening it in absolutesilence and closing it behind me the same way. Past my stripped bunk to the other bunk where my fink friend Willy slept the sleep of the unjust.
My hand clamped his mouth shut, his eyes sprang open and I exacted primal and sadistic pleasure by whispering in his ear.
‘You are dead, you rat, dead. You called the guards and now you are going to get what you deserve …’
His body gave one giganticheave then went limp. The eyes were closed. Had I killed him? At once I regretted the bad taste of my little joke. No, not dead, passed out, his breathing light and slow. I went to get a towel, soaked it in cold water – then let him have it right in the mush.
His scream turned to a gurgle as I stuffed the towel into his mouth.
‘I’m a generous man, Willy, that’s how lucky you are. I’m not goingto kill you.’ My whispered words seemed to reassure him because I felt the tremble in his body subside. ‘You are going to help me. If you do that you will come to no harm. You have my word. Now prepare to answer my question. Think carefully about this. You are going to whisper just one thing. You are going to tell me the number of the cell that Stinger is in. Nod your head if you are ready. Good.I’m taking the towel away. But if you try any tricks or say anything –
anything
– else, why then you are dead. Here goes.’
‘… 231B …’
This same floor, good. The towel went right back in. Then I pressed hard behind his right ear, applying continuous pressure to the blood vessel that leads to the brain. Six seconds unconsciousness, ten seconds death. He thrashed then went limp again. I releasedmy thumb on the count of seven. I do have a forgiving nature.
I used the towel to clean my face and hands, then groped for my shoes and put them on. Along with another shirt and my jacket. After that I gurgled down at least a litre of water and was ready to face the world again. I stripped the blankets from the beds, bundled them under my arm – then left.
On tiptoe, as silently as I could, Islipped down to Stinger’s cell. I felt immune, impervious. I realised that this was both foolishand dangerous. But after the traumatic events of the evening I seemed to have run out of fear. The cell door opened beneath my delicate touch and Stinger’s eyes opened as well when I pushed his shoulder.
‘Get dressed,’ I said quietly. ‘We’re getting out now.’
I’ll give him this much – he didn’t botherasking questions. Just pulled his clothes on while I took the blankets from his bunk. ‘We need at least two more,’ I said.
‘I’ll get Eddie’s.’
‘He’ll wake up.’
‘I’ll see he goes back to sleep.’
There was a murmured question – followed by a solid thud. Eddie went back to sleep and Stinger brought over the blankets.
‘Here’s what we do,’ I told him. ‘I found the way up to the roof. We go thereand knot these blankets together. Then we climb down them and get