Free A Killer is Loose by Gil Brewer

tired, not a bit. Wonderful, eh? It’s having something that interests you that does it. Everybody should have some vital hobby. Don’t you think that’s right, pal?”
    “Could be that’s it,” I said.
    “Of course, it’s not a hobby with me. It’s much more than a hobby.”
    “Sure.”
    Betty Graham came back and sat down beside me on the rattan couch. Lillian looked at me and shook her head. Then Betty began to cry. She sat perfectly rigid, staring across the room at nothing, and the tears streamed down her face. I had never seen Betty like this, but now I knew what honest fear could do. She didn’t know what it was all about, but she had suddenly begun to believe the worst and she feared it. Right now she was an automaton, like the rest of us, controlled by that maniac over there in the chair.

Chapter Eight
     
    H E HAD NO PERSONALITY , actually. I had watched him change, realized the contradictions and confusions in his mind. I wondered about him, even in the midst of all the terror he inspired. Who was he? I didn’t like thinking about the possibility of his being an eye surgeon. Perhaps it was some mad figment of his mad mind. Either way, I didn’t want him coming near me. What sight I had I wanted to keep.
    The hospital he spoke of. What a laugh! To save people. And with his next movement he might draw that damned Luger and commit murder.
    Sam Graham had no idea what he was coming home to.
    I looked over at Angers. He was still staring at the ceiling, with his head resting on the back of the chair. I judged the distance he’d have to reach for that gun. And somehow, I knew if I jumped him, he’d get the gun first. He would kill me. That simple.
    If he didn’t get the gun … what then?
    He wasn’t soft. Why was he so pale? Prison? He’d been someplace where there was little sun, and I couldn’t believe it was prison.
    “It’s peaceful here, isn’t it?” Angers said.
    “Yes.”
    Betty wasn’t making a sound, but the tears streamed down her face. We all sat there, Lillian back in her chair, waiting.
    I knew that Lillian and I were thinking of ways and means. Betty would be thinking about Sam.
    I tried to make it friendly, for his ears. You couldn’t tell how he’d react.
    “How long you and Ralph known each other, Lil?”
    Her head jerked around at me, that wealth of mahogany hair rustling across her shoulders. She tipped her lips with her tongue, glanced at Angers.
    “Oh, quite a while. I knew Ralph in Seattle.”
    “Old friends,” I said.
    “Not too old.”
    The room went silent again. Betty ceased crying. She got a handkerchief out of the pocket of her shorts and daubed at her cheeks and eyes, still looking across the room. Her plump thighs were spattered with tears. She wiped them dry and spread the handkerchief across her knee. She gave a great sigh and, turning, looked at me. Her head bobbed up and down just a little, then she got hold of herself again.
    “What—are you going to do about Ruby?” she said.
    “I don’t know.”
    “You’ve got to see her. The hospital called twice, Steve. Some—something’s up, and they need you.”
    “I know.”
    Angers stood up. “Just thought of something,” he said. “Come on, all of you.”
    We looked at him.
    “Come on. We’ll begin in here. It’s a shame to have to do this, but you can’t trust anybody. I know I can trust you, pal.” He looked at me with that pallid face. “But just the same. Come on, now.”
    We all stood up.
    He started walking around the room. He closed every window that was open, and locked it. “Now the front door,” he said. “Just come with me.”
    We all went out into the hall and he locked the front door. Then, guided by him, we made a complete tour of the house, locking all doors and windows.
    The telephone was on a small shelf in the bar between the kitchen and the dining nook. Betty caught my eye as I looked at it. It would have to wait.
    “Let’s go back in the other room,” Angers said.