More Deadly Than The Male

left fist extended, his right slightly across his body. Vaguely he remembered seeing James Cagney stand like this, protecting his girl. Cagney had faced a room full of thugs and he'd licked the lot! George eyed the two hard little men, who kept just out of his reach, like two terriers waiting for an opening to jump in. The blond man was still behind his table: he was wiping his face with a napkin.

'You'd better be careful,' George said. 'I don't want to hurt anyone!'

The blond man suddenly laughed. 'Fix the fat fool,' he said sharply. 'Go for him!'

The Greek called Nick edged closer, and George swung wildly at him. His great fist smashed into empty air, as the Greek shifted his head.

Cora screamed and clutched at George, hampering him

Then suddenly long, thin blades flashed in the shaded light. The sight of the glittering steel shocked George's courage into a frozen ball of terror.

Something flashed, and pain seared him.

They'll kill me! he thought, and like a wounded, terrified bull, he lashed out frantically.

A red curtain of terror hung before George's eyes. He heard Cora scream. Then he found himself on the floor, a rattling, groaning noise in his ears, and he realized that he was making the noise himself.

A solid weight dropped on his shoulders, pushing him flat on the dusty, smelly carpet. Nick knelt on his back.

'Don't move,' the Greek said. 'She'll be hack in a little while.'

George lay still.

Then a sound came from somewhere in the building—a violent scream, which was immediately stifled, as if by a ruthless hand. Every nerve in George's body stiffened.

'Still!' Nick said, breathing garlic and wine fumes in George's face.

Slowly and cautiously George raised his head and looked round the room. The woman at the cash desk, the Hebrew behind the bar and the waiter were all staring at him.

George thought he heard another muffled scream, but he could not be sure. He looked at the others, but they showed no sign that they had heard anything. The woman at the cash desk curled a straggling lock of dyed hair round her fat finger. Her eyes were stony, blank.

What were they doing to Cora? George made a convulsive movement.

'Still!' the Greek warned, pressing a sharp knee into George's hack.

The silence in the room and in the building terrified George. Minutes ticked by slowly. It seemed to him that he had been lying on the dirty, evil-smelling carpet for hours.

Then suddenly the Greek got up. 'Right,' he said, and kicked George hard in the ribs. 'Get up, you.'

Somehow George crawled to his feet. Without quite knowing what he was doing, he took out his handkerchief and wrapped it round his bleeding left hand. He swayed unsteadily as the other Greek appeared, pushing Cora through the concealed doorway.

Then somehow they were in the street together, in the darkness and the rain.

George stood gulping in the hot, damp air, unnerved, his limbs trembling.

'What happened?' he said. 'What did they do to you?'

Cora, her arms tightly crossed, doubled herself up. Her long wave of hair fell forward, concealing her face. She stood like that for several minutes, and the rain poured down on her.

'Can't I do anything?' George said, forgetting about his own wounds, frightened to touch her, terrified by her behaviour. Her ragged, laboured breathing made a dreadful sound in the rain and the darkness.

She began to walk up and down the street, still doubled up, still holding onto herself.

'Cora! Tell me!' he said, following her. 'What is it?'

They were near a street lamp now, and she suddenly straightened. Her hair was plastered to her head by the rain. She looked wild. A hissing sound came from her lips, and he could see she was grinding her teeth.

'They crammed a pillow over my face,' she gasped, 'and then they flogged me with a cane!' She drew her saliva into a ball of fury and spat into the darkness. 'They did that to me! I'll make them pay! I'll make him pay, too! The treacherous swine! He knew what they'd do! I'll kill them all for this! All of them!' And she began to cry with rage and pain, wriggling her body and stamping her feet.

George stood in the rain, helpless, watching her with dismayed, bewildered pity, the handkerchief round his hand growing soggy with blood.

Suddenly she grabbed his arm, her fingers biting into his muscles. 'Don't look at me,' she panted, standing first on one leg and then on the other. She contorted her body, arched her back, straightened and bent double again. 'Damn You!' She broke away from him and went down the street, only to stop a yard or so farther on. She held her head between her hands and began to walk round in small circles. Then she came back to him and gripped his arm again. He could feel the fever in her, burning through his coat sleeve.

'Take me home,' she cried, pulling at him 'For God's sake, take me home. Pm hurt! I'm on fire! Don't stand there doing nothing, you stupid, stupid fool! Take me home!'

11

George never quite knew how they reached the little flat above the greengrocer's shop. He vaguely remembered stopping a taxi, but had no recollection of the actual drive. He remembered the long, painful climb up some stairs, and Cora hammering wildly on a door. He remembered, too, hearing Sydney shout, 'All right, all right. I'm coming! Stop banging on that bloody door.'