Read Online The Door Between by Ellery Queen - Free Book Online Page B

it,” repeated Eva. “Why? Where?”
    “Fireplace in the sitting-room. Shut the door there first. Get a move on, will you!”
    “But I have no –”
    “My coat pocket. Damn it, jump!”
    Eva jumped. Things had gone completely beyond her. Her brain was a blank, and she was grateful.
    She fumbled in his pocket as he struggled with the stubborn bolt, feeling the writhing of his hips as he twisted and tugged. His lips were all but invisible and the tendons of his neck swollen and rigid. Then she found the matches, cool against her fingers.
    She walked back, picked up the blood-smeared handkerchief by its monogrammed corner, and went slowly into the sitting-room. As she shut the sitting-room door to the hall she could hear the brown man panting in the bedroom over the bolt.
    Then she was on her knees before the fireplace.
    A fire had recently gone out in the grate; there were still a few ashes, debris. Eva found herself thinking mechanically that it had been cool the evening before and that Karen was always feeling chilly. Karen, with her thin blood. But it was Karen’s blood on Eva’s handkerchief. Karen’s blood .
    The wisp of cambric fell into the grate and Eva found her fingers trembling so badly she had to strike three matches before she could achieve a flame. Some coils of half-charred old paper beneath the kerchief caught fire and the fire touched the edge of the cambric.
    Karen’s blood, thought Eva. She was warming Karen’s blood … The kerchief blazed up with a little hiss.
    Eva got to her feet and stumbled back into the bedroom. She did not want to see that bloody kerchief burn. She really did not. She wanted to forget that handkerchief, that thing on the floor that was not Karen any more, that choking around her own neck.
    “I won’t stay here any more!” she screamed, bursting in on him. “I’m going to run away – hide! Take me away from here – Dick, home, anywhere!”
    “Stop it.” He did not even turn around. The light cloth was strained across his shoulders.
    “If I get out of here –”
    “You’re through.”
    “The police –”
    “They’re late. It’s a break. Did you burn it?” His brown face was shiny with perspiration.
    “But if they don’t find me here –”
    “The Jap saw you, didn’t she? Damn – this – bolt.” He chopped at it with the edge of his wrapped hand, savagely.
    “Oh, God,” moaned Eva. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t –”
    “If you don’t pipe down – I’ll clout you one. … Ah!”
    The bolt gave suddenly with a scream. His wrapped hand yanked the door open. He disappeared into the gloom beyond.
    Eva dragged herself to the open door and leaned against the jamb. It was a cramped space; there was a flight of narrow wooden steps leading up … To the room in the attic. The room. What was in the room?
    Her own room in the apartment. Her bed, the lovely candlewick spread, yellow dots against the white crêpe; the third drawer from the top in her bureau, where she kept her stockings rolled into balls. The closet with her summer hats. The old suitcase with its torn labels. Her new black underwear that Susie Hotchkiss had said was worn only by kept women and actresses: how angry she’d been! The Bouguereau atrocity over her bed – it had bored her and scandalized Venetia and Dr. MacClure had liked it …
    She heard the brown man swooping about overhead, heard the metallic click of a window-latch, the thin screech of a window being opened … She’d forgotten to put away the nail-polish. Venetia would scold her with all the good fury of her good black soul. She’d spilled a drop on the hooked rug …
    Then he was bounding down the narrow staircase towards her, shoving her out of his way, leaving the door open. He looked around at the bedroom again, his chest rising and falling lightly.
    “I don’t understand,” said Eva. “What are you doing?”
    “Giving you an out.” He did not look at her. “What will I get for it – hey,