Free The Cellar by Minette Walters Page A

her bulging midriff just below her ribs. She looked at Muna in disbelief, opened her mouth as if to say something, but only a thready sigh escaped as she staggered backwards, sucking desperately for air.
    Muna pursued her, powering the hammer again and again into the same place. The solar plexus was Yetunde’s favourite target when Muna annoyed her, and Muna always fell with the first punch, doubled up with pain and unable to breathe. Yetunde was too fat to succumb as quickly but Muna exulted in the wheezy puffs that issued from the bloated face as each blow landed. Every step the monstrous creature took brought her closer to the cellar door, and Muna fancied she heard the Devil laughing at the idea of having Yetunde for himself.
    Yetunde tried to deflect the hammer with her hands, gasping out pleas to her husband. Ebuka! Ebuka! Help me! Help me!
    But he didn’t answer and Muna swung the hammer at Yetunde’s kneecap, watching in fascination as pain caused her eyes to flare as wide as she had ever seen them. It was very satisfying.
    The Master can’t hear you, Princess. Your kicks have dazed him.
    Yetunde held out her hands in a futile begging gesture. Let me be! I won’t punish you if you stop now.
    Muna ignored her and used guile of her own as she drove her weapon again at the woman’s leg. You will suffer less if you enter the cellar yourself, Princess. I will not imprison you for long. When the Master has his strength back, I will release you.
    Perhaps Yetunde’s suffering was already too great for she grasped the doorjamb and stepped backwards on to the top step. Evil girl! she cried. You’ve hurt me badly!
    Yes, Princess … and now you must go down the stairs of your own accord or the Devil will pull you down as easily as he pulled the Master.
    Muna exulted at the fear she saw in Yetunde’s face and wondered if the woman could hear the laughter from below. It was loud in Muna’s ears. A deep guttural rumble that drew a hollow echo from the walls.
    You’re mad, Yetunde whispered.
    I am what you’ve made me, Princess. All I know is what you’ve taught me.
    She was gratified to see the same horror in Yetunde’s face that had been in Ebuka’s when she’d used similar words to him. It was strange. They had moulded Muna into mirrors of themselves yet they disliked their reflections.
    I’ve been kind to you, Muna. I gave you a better home than you could ever have had in Africa.
    Muna swung the hammer again. You gave me nothing, she said, using both hands to plunge the solid metal into Yetunde’s mouth.
    She stepped back, exhausted, as blood poured from the woman’s lips, and she felt a marvellous thrill to hear the Devil’s laugh rise from the caverns of the earth and see his hand reach out of the darkness to drag Yetunde down.

Ten
    It seemed the Devil had made time stand still.
    When Muna turned to look at Ebuka, he was still struggling to pull himself away from Yetunde’s kicks, using his forearms and elbows to inch across the floor. Soundlessly, she replaced the hammer behind the photograph and then knelt to rock his shoulder. He gave a start of terror, wrapping his arms about his head and crying out to Yetunde to stop.
    Princess isn’t here, Master, she said.
    Ebuka had used every ounce of his energy, dragging his paralysed legs behind him, and he was too tired to lift his face from the carpet or turn it towards her. Where is she? he asked.
    I don’t know, Master.
    I heard her cry out.
    Only at you, Master. She was shouting as she kicked you. I called to her to stop before she killed you … then ran to the sitting room to hide.
    Are you sure she’s not here?
    Yes, Master. I believe she went upstairs. I heard the bedroom door slam before I came to see if you were all right. You must have heard it too. It was very loud.
    I don’t remember.
    You’re dazed, Master.
    Ebuka dribbled on to the carpet. I think I lost consciousness. You must call the police. She’s mad enough to kill us both.
    I can’t,