Lilies For My Lovely by Hank Janson

Author:Hank Janson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Telos Publishing Ltd

CHAPTER EIGHT

There were pinpoints of light that might have been stars; they got bigger and then they got smaller, and each time they got bigger they got much bigger than they had ever been before, and then they became so big they fused into one, so that all was light, and I moved my head and a felt a sharp jab of pain skewer through my temples.

The light became grey and slowly became light again, and with a shock I suddenly realised that I was looking at a whitewashed ceiling. I moved my head, and again pain knifed through me and a groan forced itself from my lips

And then a voice that I recognised spoke to me and did things to me.

“Hank,” said the voice. “Hank, are you all right?” I steeled my nerves against the pain and turned over on my side. As I did so, whatever I was lying on moved, crumbled and dug into my viciously.

Yes, it was Sally, lying there with me, her clothes filthy from the coal, her hands tied behind her back, and her legs doubled up behind her and fastened to her wrists. Tied the way she was, she couldn’t move an inch.

But at that moment I didn’t care about anything except that Sally was there, and that she was alive, and that at last I was seeing her again.

Her eyes were full of concern.

“Hank,” she said. “Tell me, are you all right?”

“I guess so!” I said, and put my hand up to feel my head. At least I tried to do so, but then found that, like Sally, I was doubled up with my wrists and ankles strapped closely together.

She said: “There’s blood all down your face, Hank,” and her voice sounded like she was scared I was going to die.

“That’s okay, kid.” I told her. “Somebody just sapped me; they didn’t do much more than break the skin.”

I looked around. We were lying in a large, windowless cellar, illuminated by a single shadeless electric light. I gave a start as I saw Tune Miller lying on the other side of me. She wasn’t strapped up like we were. She was still doped. Her breasts were hardly moving as she breathed. I looked back at Sally.

“Where the hell are we, and what’s happening?” I asked.

She said: “We’re in the cellar of my home!”

I was beginning to remember now; the pallbearers, the man with the gun, something smashing down at my head. I said: “Look Sally, what goes on here?”

She began to cry then. Big tears formed at the corners of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. It got me mad to see her looking miserable that way. “Sally,” I snapped at her. “You gotta tell me, what’s all this about?”

She sobbed a bit, and then managed to say wildly, “I don’t know Hank, I don’t know!”

Her voice sounded shrill, and I knew she was on the point of hysterics. I yelled at her, dominating her, trying by the power in my voice to hold back the hysteria rapidly mounting inside her.

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