14
LADY LOST
ROLLISON saw the empty landing.
He heard footsteps, stealthy at first, but as he jumped towards the head of the stairs they became louder and sharper; of a woman, running. He didn’t look round to see if the American was following, but simply placed one hand on the banister rail, and leaped; by supporting himself against the rail he covered the whole of the long flight of stairs in one jump; eighteen stairs in all. He landed lightly on the half landing below. The sharp clatter of a woman’s footsteps was now very loud.
Rollison repeated the trick at the next landing.
He landed, and saw Gillian, on the last flight but one, turning and staring upwards but running at the same time.
She stumbled, recovered herself, and ran on. Rollison made another leap, and this time landed awkwardly. He had to lose time to recover, and kicked his own leg a little; he didn’t leap down again, but began to run down the stairs. He was at the head of the last flight of stairs while Gillian was half way along the hall passage, near the closed front door.
Tex Brandt came running from above, but he was a long way behind.
Rollison leaped the final flight, and was at the foot of the stairs as Gillian began to open the front door. A cold draught of air swept in.
“Hallo,” said Rollison, not at all breathless. “Anywhere I can take you?” He covered the ground between them so swiftly that she didn’t get out of the open door. A street light fell on her face, and it was easy to understand why the
Texan had said that he had never met a girl like Gillian Selby.
“I want to leave this house,” she said, sharply.
“Well, if you must, you must,” concluded Rollison, sadly, “but don’t go walking out into the arms of the murderers, will you? They’re always around.”
“You’re only trying to scare me.”
“Gillian,” said Rollison, placing a hand on her arm, “in all honesty I can say that I don’t need to scare you. You’re scared out of your wits already, and you’ve every right to be. But you can’t do a deal with these people over Alan, and it’s useless to think you can.”
“I’ve got to,” she said, simply. “I’ve just got to. I thought I could leave everything to you, and I tried, but now I just can’t help myself. I’ve got to sell the farm and release Alan. I’ve been turning it over in my mind ever since I arrived here, and that’s my final decision. I’m going to see Monty now. He knows that it’s the only sane thing to do.”
There was a kind of entreaty in her manner, as if she was pleading with Rollison not to try to dissuade her; and as she stood there, Tex Brandt reached the passage and approached. She turned to him,
“Make him let me go,” she pleaded.
“Gillian, there’s no need to ask anyone to let you go, if you want to leave you’re as free as the air. But I don’t think you should leave.” Rollison saw her look away from the Texan back to him, and he had never tried more hard to sound convincing. “I’m afraid you’ll sell the farm without getting Alan back. These people only say they are holding him. They only say they’ll release him. Once they have the deeds of the farm, they might kill him.”
“There’s no reason to think that, you’re only trying to frighten me!”
“I’ve dealt with bad men before,” Rollison reminded her, “and they work to a pattern. Come back, have dinner, and let’s discuss it. Tex Brandt and I are both trained in this sort of problem, and we only want to help. But if you still think you ought to leave when we’ve finished, all right—I’ll take you to Monty’s, and you’ll have to make a deal yourselves.”
“I shall still want to leave,” she insisted.
“But come and have dinner first,” urged Rollison. “Try to relax, and don’t make an impulsive decision. You could make the worst mistake of your life if you do.”
Jolly’s dinner was a gourmet’s delight.
First the white and then the red wines were exactly right.
Even Gillian seemed to relish the meal, and afterwards seemed much more relaxed, but when they had done their best to dissuade her, she said :
“It’s no use at all. I’ve got to exchange the farm for Alan, I just can’t refuse. If I did and anything happened to him, I’d be haunted by it for the rest of my life.”
“Why don’t you sleep on it?” Tex urged. “They want the farm so badly that it won’t do any harm to wait. They will just have to hold your brother until they get what they want.”
“Tex,” responded Gillian, very calmly, “you want to buy the farm, too. You can’t be disinterested. Roily might be, but I think he’s so dispassionate that he can’t really see the best thing for Alan. He wants to apply a principle of what is right and what is wrong. I want to save Alan’s life. And these people have killed twice, so we know they wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.”
Tex said helplessly : “Well, I give up.”
“I’ll take you to Monty’s place,” promised Rollison. He pressed a bellpush, and Jolly came in, as if Rollison had rubbed a magic lamp. “Jolly, try to contact Mr. Grice and say I’ll be delayed. If you can’t stop him coming, when he arrives tell him I hope to be back by half-past ten. Mr. Brandt will stay in the spare room, and if Mr. Grice comes and wants to look round, just introduce him as a friend of mine.”
“Very good, sir.”
Gillian put a hand on the TofT’s.
