behind the fill for at least three hours.
He stepped into the tower doorway, pulled Mary in beside him. At least he'd have a chance to swim for it if he could avoid the stunning blow that would come when the flood first struck. He drew Mary into his arms, turned his broad back toward the roar of the rushing water, started to kiss her—
Behind them the door suddenly opened. A voice shouted. “Inside! Quick! Up the stairs!”
Heath grabbed Mary up in his arms, raced upward. The flood hit. The tower trembled. Water screamed as it choked the windows. The din was maddening, ear-killing.
IN A MINUTE or so it was all over. Quiet came and seemed a living spirit. “You're Weblick?” said Heath to the man on the stairs behind them.
“That's right,” came the reply. “After John McCulloch murdered Lorney—murdered him while he was unconscious from your punch—I ran away, came back here to warn the others of what was in store for them. I saw your light coming up from the creek and hid in the tower.”
“You wrote us those unsigned letters, didn't you?” said Mary.
Weblick nodded. “I heard Trappett's music box, knew what Trappett and McCulloch did nineteen years ago. Later I heard the music box at the antique shop at Coverlee. I'm pretty good at receiving Morse code. Trappett wasn't sure McCulloch was the man that had coaxed his wife away and murdered her after passing off her baby as the Marcot child. I knew Lorney and Bascome were not in on the kidnapping and murder. McCulloch's acquaintance with them began when he hired them a year ago to work here. If Trappett had known McCulloch had murdered his wife he—”
“He knew it before he died,” Heath interrupted. “He heard the message of the music box we bought at Coverlee. What have you done with John McCulloch?”
“He's locked in the little room at the top,” said Weblick. “I was in the dark outside the door when he went in. It was a cinch to slam the door and bolt it. He'll be there when you want him. About those letters, though, I only did what my old boss, David McCulloch, died trying to do. Mr. David was an honest man and wanted his no-good son turned over to the police.
“There's something else, McCulloch was planning on getting more money from the Marcots by selling them the secret of ”—he glanced at Mary—“your identity. I heard him planning it with Bascome. That was before he knew where the ransom money was hidden. After he knew about the ransom money he planned to kill everyone else who knew about it. That's why he put dynamite under the fill. He murdered Bascome after you knocked him out, hit him with an axe.”
Mary shuddered, drew a long free breath, said, fighting to clear her mind of all the terrible, bloody business that was past, “Marcot is a right nice name, Mary Marcot. I wonder what my parents are like? I wonder if they'll like me?”
She squeezed Heath's hand. “It'll be strange having a new name, getting accustomed to it.”
“Which one?” asked the county detective.
“Why—Heath,” Mary said archly. “Mrs. Sully Heath. How does it sound?”
They went down to see what the flood had left.
