Read Online The Loo Sanction by Trevanian - Free Book Online

were potent.
    Jonathan stepped to him, carefully avoiding the thickening blood on the floor. He placed his fingertips against the throat. The man was not dead, but the pulse was faint and fluttery. The man lifted his head and looked blearily at Jonathan. There was no chance for him. The eyes had that wall-eyed spread that attends death. The pupils were contracted. There was dope in him.
    Jonathan’s attention was attracted to a slight pulsing motion in the man’s lap. He was holding his guts in with his hands. He tried to speak, but only a glottal whisper came out. Jonathan put his ear close to the mouth, resisting the revulsion caused by the stink of human feces.
    â€œI . . . I’m awfully . . . sorry. Disgraceful thing . . . I . . .”
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œShameful . . .”
    â€œWho are you?”
    Out of the tail of his eye, Jonathan saw Maggie standing at the bathroom door. Her face was a plane of disgust and horror. She was trying to calm herself by lighting her cigarette, but in her nervousness she couldn’t operate the lighter.
    â€œGet out.”
    â€œWhat?” She was confused.
    â€œGet out. He’s ashamed.”
    She disappeared.
    â€œOh, God . . . Oh, good God . . .” The man’s body tensed. He stared up at Jonathan with anguish and disbelief, his teeth clenched, his head shuddering with his vein-bursting effort to cling to life. “Oh! God!”
    Then he let it go. He slumped and let life go.
    He made one last sound. A name.
    Then he slipped off the toilet seat almost gracefully, and his cheek came to rest in his own blood. His hands fell away, and the gray green guts protruded. The seat of his trousers was wet and stained with excrement.
    Jonathan stood up and stepped back. For the first time he noticed something crammed in behind the toilet bowl. It was a Halloween mask—Casper the ghost. He stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door quietly behind him.
    Maggie was standing down the hall, her back pressed against the wall defensively, her face pale with terror. He put his arm around her for support and conducted her to the bedroom.
    â€œHere. Lie down. Put your feet up.”
    â€œI think I’m going to be sick,” she said faintly.
    â€œIt’s shock. Go ahead, be sick. Put your finger down your throat.”
    She tried, and gagged. “I can’t!”
    â€œListen to me, Maggie! I don’t mean to be cruel or unfeeling, but you’ve got to pull yourself together. We’ve got to get out of here. That man in there . . . This is a setup. I’ve seen them before. For your own good, do exactly what I tell you. If you’re going to be sick, do it. If not, get dressed. Then lie down and rest until I’ve done a couple of things. OK?”
    She stared at him, confused and frightened by his cool efficiency. “What is this? What’s happening?”
    â€œJust do what I told you. Here. Give me that. I’ll light it for you.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œThere. Now, move over.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do?”
    â€œNothing.” Jonathan lay full length on his back beside her and closed his eyes. He put his palms together in a prayerlike gesture and brought them to his face, the thumbs under his chin and the forefingers touching his lips. Then he regulated his breathing, taking very shallow breaths deep in the stomach. He focused his mind on the image of an unrippled pond, calm in a chill dawn light. Tension drained from him; the adrenaline seeped away; his mind grew peaceful and clear.
    In three minutes he opened his eyes slowly and brought the room back into focus. He was all right.
    He rose and moved around the room quickly, getting dressed and emptying pockets and drawers in search of money.
    Maggie finished her cigarette, her eyes never leaving him; something in his adroit, professional movements fascinated her. And frightened her.
    He looked over the room to see that everything