terror. She drove automatically, unable to speak, her heart fluttering, a knotted ball of fear coiled like a spring inside her.
Perry said, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out on the beach alone?”
She said nothing. She could see the glint of the gun in the shaded dashlight, the barrel pointing at her body, and she shivered.
“You don’t have to be this scared,” Perry said. His continual giggle increased her fear. It was the most horrible sound she had ever heard. “What’s your name, baby?”
Still she couldn’t speak. Her tongue felt like a strip of dry leather in her mouth.
Perry put his hot, sweating hand on her naked knee. His touch made her shy away violently. The car swerved, mounted on the grass verge and then bounced back on the road.
Cursing, Perry put his foot across hers and stamped on the brake. The car jerked to a stop and the engine stalled. They were in this narrow road, overhung by trees. There were no villas. It was a road seldom used and leading eventually to the sea. The headlights of the car showed a long tunnel of darkness ahead of them. There was no sound, no movement.
Perry switched off the headlights. The tiny parking lights made a faint splash of yellow on the road. He took the girl by the nape of her neck and gently shook her.
“What’s the matter with you, baby… scared of me?” he asked and giggled.
The girl’s mouth formed into an O. Her sun-tanned face with its small features was grotesque with terror. Suddenly, as if the coil inside her had become released, she began to scream. Perry’s thick fingers shifted around her throat and nipped the screams off. Then frantically, wild with panic, she began to struggle, beating his face and chest with her small fists, thrashing with her legs.
Cursing, Perry let his gun slip to the floor of the car so he could use his other hand to control her. She had no chance against his strength. His fingers tightened around her throat, his left hand holding her wrists. He choked her into submission. Then aroused by the contact of her slim, half-naked body, he leaned over her, opened the car door and shoved her out on to the road. She sprawled on the sandy surface, only half conscious as Perry got out of the car and knelt over her.
She was dimly aware that he was ripping off her sweater and her bikini. She became aware of a sharp stone grinding into her spine, but that was nothing to the pain when he thrust into her body, brutally and with animal violence.
Finally, his lust satiated, he heaved himself from her and stirred her with his foot.
“Come on, baby,” he said impatiently. “This is for the record. Come on… up on your feet,” then when she continued to lie at his feet, he reached down, twined his thick fingers in her hair, and hauled her upright. She collapsed against him, moaning, but he shoved her, naked, into the car, his hands sliding over her shivering body.
“Come on… come on… I’ve got to get going,” he snarled and walked around to the passenger’s seat.
Her foot touched the gun. Still half conscious, feeling herself bleeding, not fully understanding what she was doing, she picked up the gun as Perry dropped his heavy body into the passenger’s seat. She aimed the gun at him, and sobbing, she pulled the trigger.
Perry saw the flash of the gun, heard the bang and then felt white hot pain grip his bowels. He sat motionless, stupefied, unable to move, his mouth falling open, cold sweat breaking out on his fat face.
He watched the girl roll out of the car, get to her feet and then run naked with lurching strides out of the dim light of the parkers. He smelt the cordite of the exploded shell acrid in his nostrils, then he felt blood seeping into his trousers.
Somehow he managed to shift his wounded body from the passenger’s seat into the driving seat. He started the engine, found the right gear and let in the clutch. He headed the car down the tunnel of darkness, knowing he just had to reach Maisky’s bungalow before he bled to death.
Maisky edged the Buick into the hide. He was having great difficulty with his breathing and he was now seriously alarmed. The dull pain in his chest was acute. He was feeling on the point of collapse. He had been mad, he told himself, to have tried to shift the carton without unloading it. He had probably strained his heart. He snapped off the headlights.
Well, he would now have to rest. Here, he was safe. He was sure of that. The police would never think of looking for him in this glade. The thing to do was to get up to the cave, taking it slowly, then lie down on the bed of blankets. In an hour or so, he would feel better.
But when he opened the car door and began to get out, a shocking pain struck him in his chest, making him fall back against the
seat, his clawlike hands clutching at his chest. For a horrible moment, he thought he was going to die.
He half lay, half sat, waiting, and the pain gradually receded: like a savage animal that had pounced, struck at him, and then drawn back.
He realised he had suffered a heart attack, and his thin lips came off his teeth in a snarl of frustrated fury. After all his planning, all his trouble, the danger and the risks he had taken and just when he was within sight of owning two million dollars… this must happen to him!
He remained motionless for more than an hour, trying to breathe gently, terrified to move lest the pain struck him again. He thought of all the money locked in the boot. There was no hope now of getting it up to the cave. It would have to remain in the boot and he would have to hope the hide was good enough to conceal the car should someone pass near by, but it was essential for him, somehow, to get himself up to the cave where the contents of his medical chest might save him.
As he lay waiting for his strength to return, he thought of the young man he had shot. How long would his body remain undiscovered? Had anyone heard the shot? There had been a number of transistor radios blaring on the beach. Their noise might have covered the sound of the shot. The police were certain to connect the shooting with the robbery. The truck was there to tell them. He wondered if the others had got away. The chances were that they had, but if one or more were caught, would they talk? Would they give the police a description of him?
He was now beginning to feel a little better, although very weak. Cautiously, holding on to the side of the car, he drew himself upright. He waited, thinking of the steep climb to the cave with dismay. Well, if it took him the rest of the night, he just had to get up there.
Before starting off over the rough grass, he looked at the boot of the Buick. He again thought of all that money, alive in his mind, but locked out of sight. There was nothing he could do about that… anyway, for the moment. Perhaps after a good sleep and a rest, he would be fit enough to move the money up to the cave.
Walking very slowly, his hand pressed against his chest, Maisky made his way cautiously up to the cave.
Mish and Chandler reached Maisky’s bungalow around four a.m.
The bungalow stood under a group of palm trees within fifty yards of the sea. It was served by a narrow road that went on to a number of small bungalows and cabins, out of sight and some distance away.
As the two men approached the shabby little building, Chandler caught hold of Mish’s shoulder, halting him.
“There’s a car… look… to the left.”
In the shadows, Mish could just make out a small car parked to the left of the bungalow. He squinted at it, frowning, then he pulled his gun from his hip pocket.
“That’s not Maisky’s car… it’s a sports job.”
“Whose then?”
“Let’s go and find out,” Mish said and began a cautious move forward.
“You don’t think… the cops?” Chandler hung back.
“Not in a sports job… it’s a T.R.4,” Mish said impatiently.
The two men approached the car, keeping in the shadows. They paused when they were twenty yards or so from it and looked at the bungalow, which was in darkness.
“Maybe he had trouble with the Buick,” Chandler said. “It’s a bad starter. Maybe he used this one if he couldn’t get the Buick to start.”
“Yeah… that could be it,” Mish said, relaxing. “I tell you, he’s a real smart cookie. Yeah… that must be it,” and he walked quickly to the T.R.4 and paused beside it.
The light of the coming dawn was spreading across the sky and the light was sufficient for Mish to see the
