There were two sharp raps as something smashed on the bonnet and against the windscreen.
Rollison, bounding across the pavement, saw the car swerve, saw a white cloud rising from it. He did not stop moving but grabbed Lucifer and pulled him back to safety. He saw Mona, ashen-faced, staring at Lucifer. Two or three people along the street were standing and gasping as the car narrowly missed a lamp-post, and came to an abrupt halt—then both doors swung open and two men scrambled out and began dabbing frantically at the windscreen. Rollison, springing in pursuit, had sufficient time to notice they were both tall, both dark-haired, before he kicked against a raised paving stone and went sprawling. He managed to protect his face with his arm but jolted himself badly, and lay for a few seconds, hearing the harsh revving of the car engine and knowing that the men had got away.
He picked himself up, cautiously. Lucifer Stride was leaning against the railings, much as Mrs Abbott had leaned against them an hour or so earlier; the girl was standing beside him. Then two women and an old man came hurrying up, and Jolly appeared at the street door.
Rollison brushed some dust off his jacket.
“Call the police, Jolly?”
“They are on their way, sir.”
“Didn’t get the number of that car, did you?” Rollison asked. “Or recognise either of the men?”
“No, sir. I didn’t get a clear view at all.”
“What hit the windscreen?”
“Two packets of flour, sir,” Jolly said.
“Quick work, Jolly.” Rollison gripped his man’s arm. “But for that they’d have got Stride.”
Grabbing the young man and the girl by the elbows, he hustled them into the house. They moved mechanically. As the door closed behind them the girl began to shiver and her lips quivered as words tumbled out:
“It—it—it’s
“What do you hate?” asked Rollison sharply.
“I hate
“Mr Rollison,” said Lucifer Stride in a shaky voice, “she told me what was going to happen to me, and it
Rollison could see both incredulity and panic in the watery eyes.
CHAPTER SIX
Rollison followed Lucifer Stride into the living-room. Mrs Abbott hadn’t left her chair, Madam Melinska still stood near the window, Mona Lister was standing staring blankly at the Trophy Wall, while Olivia Cordman was at the telephone, talking very quickly and distinctly.
“Yes, that’s right . . . Jolly . . . Yes, but for him the man would have been seriously injured . . . Yes, the police are in the street now . . . What? . . . Oh, she has it, don’t make any mistake, she has it,
She rang off, her face glowing with excitement.
“Rolly, you saw what happened. You do know she has it, don’t you?”
“Who has what?”
“If only I didn’t,” cried Mona, spinning round so that her shirt swirled and her hair swung. “I’d give anything not to hava it.
“My dear child,” said Madam Melinska, “it is a wonderful gift, and you should cherish it.”
“But I hate it, I hate it!”
“And
“You know, Mrs Abbott, you really must pull yourself together,” said Madam Melinska gently. “The child has always had this gift. Trying to crush it out of her can only do harm. Mona, child, you should go and lie down.”
“I don’t want to lie down!”
Madam Melinska looked at Rollison, without speaking, and he found himself turning to Mona and taking her arm. She did not resist as he led her to the spare bedroom, the door of which stood ajar. The bed had been turned down; Jolly was at his absolute best today, thought Rollison.
That door leads to a bathroom,” he said, pointing. Try to sleep, Mona—and try not to worry.”
“How can I help worrying?” she asked distractedly. “How would you like to be able to foresee horrible things happening to your friends?”
Rollison didn’t answer. Her eyes looked so tired that he felt quite sure that she would fall asleep the moment he left her. Closing the door firmly behind him, he rejoined the others; but no sooner had he done so than the front door bell rang yet again. This would be the police, of course, to question Lucifer Stride.
