But what a calendar of crimes lay at his door. Murder, rape, and the unlimited terrorization of innumerable people. His house, his coloured servants, the deluxe equipment of his kitchen, his gramophone records and champagne, were all still being paid for from the earnings of scores of unhappy women in the United States, and the shipping of scores of others, still more greatly to be pitied, to a living hell in the brothels of South America. As Mary thought of the misery she had suffered herself during her black year in Dublin, her blood boiled, and she knew that she must not even consider giving such a man an hour's warning, but do her utmost to ensure that, like the others, he was arrested with the least possible delay.
While these thoughts had been agitating her mind she had walked nearly two miles, but there was still no sign of a village. Another half mile of open road lay before her with hedges and fields on either side, except in one place a few hundred yards distant where, among a few fruit trees, she could see a cottage.
Suddenly she heard the blare of a klaxon horn in her rear. Looking back, she saw a large car hurtling towards her at seventy miles an hour. Another minute and, as she jumped to the side of the road, she caught a glimpse of the driver. He was the hooknosed giant that, two minutes before, she had been planning to have arrested. With a screech of tyres suddenly braked, the car pulled up fifty feet beyond her.
CHAPTER XX WANTED! A HUMAN VICTIM FOR SACRIFICE
Mary had a moment only in which to make up her mind. Two courses were open to her. She could jump the ditch, scramble through the hedge and run for it across the fields, or stay where she was and accept capture. To do the former was to proclaim that she had deliberately set out to escape, whereas if she did not take to her heels she might still bluff it out.
Had he pulled up behind her she might have reached the cottage before he could catch her, but to do so from where she stood she would have to pass him. She could still get to it by making a detour through the hedge and round to its back, by way of the field, but, if she did succeed in outrunning him to it, there might not be anyone there to whom she could appeal for help. Realizing the small start she would have and the huge stride that his long legs would give him, with bitter reluctance she decided to stay where she was.
In a succession of violent swerves he backed the car until it came level with her, then demanded: 'Where in heck d'you think you're going?'
'To the village,' she replied, concealing her anger and disappointment with a nervous smile.
'For why?' His black eyes were glittering and his voice terse.
Defensively she retorted, 'What do you think? To buy a few things, of course. It's all very well for you; you've everything you want in the house. But I haven't even a toothbrush of my own, or make-up things; except for the powder compact and lipstick in my bag. If I'm to stay with you I don't mean to be reduced to looking like a drab.'
'You've gotta tongue. You should have used it, and I'd have had them gotten for you. I said you were to stay put, didn't I??
'You've no need to worry. I specially chose the quietest hour of the day when no one was about. Except for two labourers in a field I haven't seen a soul.'
'You would have, if you'd made the village. A quarter of an hour back I had a hunch you'd quit the maison; so I did a quick overlook and saw you beating it along the road. Get in.'
There was no alternative; so she got in and in stony silence he drove her back to the house. Following her in he waved a great hand towards the stairs and said: 'Get on up to the Schlafzimmer.'
Now pale with apprehension as she wondered what he meant to do with her, she went up to the bedroom. Two minutes later he joined her there carrying a largish square box covered with imitation leather. Setting it down on a chair he scowled at her and snapped, 'Get your clothes off.'
With mounting terror she obeyed; then, trembling a little as she stood in front of him, she began to stutter further excuses.
Ignoring them he suddenly shot out a hand. At the level of his own shoulder his outspread fingers ploughed through her hair. Suddenly they closed, so that the hair they grasped became a thick fistful. With a violent gesture he flung her sideways. She staggered and would have fallen but he wrenched her back. At the tug on her hair she let out a scream of pain. Grabbing at his wrist she strove to free herself but his grip was fast. Still holding her by the hair he flung her first to one side then the other, let her fall to her knees then jerked her upright, let her fall again then dragged her screaming half across the room and back.
Releasing her and stepping away, he said: 'Treatment number one for judys who disobey orders in the red-light dives. Way up on beatings. Doesn't mark 'em and spoil their appearance for the customers. There's treatments two and three. Best not go walking again, honey. Get into bed and stay there. I'll be seeing you.'
As he turned on his heel and left her, she collapsed on the bed. The hair on her forehead was wet with sweat and the top of her head one terrible ache where for several moments her scalp had had to take the weight of her whole body. After a while, still sobbing, she crept between the sheets and lay there in abject* misery for what seemed an endless time.
Actually it was about two hours, then the door opened and he came in again. Putting down a big parcel he had with him, he leant over her and said abruptly, 'Sit up.'
'You brute!' she flared, cowering further away from him under the bedclothes.
'Sit up,' he repeated. 'I'll not hurt you this time.'
Doubting him, but not daring to refuse, she levered herself up into a sitting position. Her head was still aching intolerably where the hair had been almost torn from it, but when she instinctively put up her hands to defend herself, he took them both and pushed them down to her sides.
'Not a move, now,' he ordered. Then, while muttering some gibberish under his breath, with the index ringer of his left hand he made the sign of the reversed swastika on the top of her head. As though by magic - and, indeed, it was by magic - the pain eased then faded away completely.
'Thanks,' she sighed, her eyes wide with wonder. 'Oh. thank you! But why did you have to be so brutal??
'Teach you not to try to run out on me.'
'I wasn't,' she lied.
