“Right.”
They went down the hall together, past the den door, through which they could faintly hear the murmuring of Quill and Bronson. Parker went in first, shining the pencil flash around, reassuring him the room was empty. Handy came in after him. Parker shut off the flashlight, and they settled down to wait.
They left the hall door partly open, just in case one of the bodyguards should come up, or Mrs Bronson should decide to leave her room. They took their hats off and tossed them on the bed, but kept their topcoats on. Handy sat on the edge of the bed, and Parker stood by the door. They could hear Bronson and Quill talking next door, but couldn’t quite make out the words. They both had their guns in their hands.
They waited about fifteen minutes and then they heard the den door open. “Good night, Mr Bronson.” Bronson muttered something from inside and Quill shut the office door and walked away towards the stairs.
Parker whispered, “Take the stairs. I’m going in after Bronson now.”
“Right.”
As soon as Quill started down the stairs and was out of sight, Handy moved out of the bedroom. He went silently down the hall and stood against the wall by the head of the stairs, covering them.
Parker waited a minute, then went down the hall and opened the door to Bronson’s den. Bronson was standing at the window looking out, his back to the door. Parker studied his back, wondering if there were any reason to spend time talking to Bronson first, and had just about decided there wasn’t any reason to, when Bronson turned around.
Bronson saw him, and gave a start, but recovered quickly. A bitter smile creased his lips and he said, “So you’re Parker.”
“That’s right.” Parker raised the .38.
But there was sudden motion to his right. He turned his head and saw Handy coming on the run. He stepped into the den, and Handy barrelled in after him, saying hoarsely, “They’re coming back up!”
Parker turned to Bronson. “Why?”
“What? Quill’s staying the night.”
“All right. Keep your mouth shut.”
Bronson shook his head. “No. I’ve been wondering if those bodyguards were any damn good. Now I’ll find out.” He raised his head and shouted, “Help!”
Parker shot in irritation and ducked back out to the hall. Behind him, Bronson sagged on to the desk.
Quill and one of the bodyguards were at the head of the stairs. They gaped at Parker and Handy, then turned to run back down again. Parker and Handy fired, but they’d both aimed at the bodyguard, so Quill got away, stumbling over the body which was rolling down the stairs.
“The wife!” said Parker. “Shut her up.”
“Right.”
Handy hurried down the hall and Parker went back into Bronson’s den. Bronson was lying on his face behind the desk. Parker checked him, but he wouldn’t need a booster. He straightened and took the phone off the hook, hoping there was only one trunk line in the house. If all the extensions were on the same line, no calls could be made.
Parker hurried back to the hall. Handy hadn’t come back yet. Parker ran down to the end, by the stairs, just in time to see the three bodyguards starting up. He fired, not hitting anybody, and they ducked back into the room where they’d been playing Monopoly. Parker knelt behind the railing and waited for Handy.
This was a good spot, for right now. Looking over the railing he could see straight down to the foot of the stairs, and across the main hall to the front door. He could also see the room where the bodyguards and Quill were holed up. He could keep them in there, unless they tried going out the window.
Somebody took a shot at him from the doorway down there. He ducked back, waited a beat, and leaned forward in time to see one of them making a dash across the hall for the room on the opposite side, hoping to catch Parker and Handy in a cross fire. Parker slid the nose of the .38 over the top of the railing, dropped the running man, and ducked back out of sight again. They were firing from the room on the right again, the bullets gouging the wall over Parker’s head.
Handy showed up, running in a crouch, ducking down to kneel beside Parker. “Tied and gagged,” he said. “What now?”
“Three left. Two bodyguards and Quill.”
“What about the back stairs?”
“I don’t want a chase. We finish them off in here, It’s private in here. No neighbours, no questions.”
“Okay.”
“Besides, we want time to go through the place. You don’t want to do this for nothing.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“You stay here. Take a shot at them every once in a while. I’ll go down and around outside to the window.”
“Right.”
Parker slid away in a crouch and straightened when he was part way down the hall. He hurried to the far end, where he found the stairs that led to the back door. He started down them, and a sound made him stop. Somebody was coming in through the back door.
Parker waited. Whoever it was, he was being slow and cautious. Occasional faint noises told Parker where he
