world like a panther transformed by some incomplete magic. Barnes took the picture from its hook, straightened for a moment to ease his back, then looked again.
Her hand flashed past the peephole. An instant later he could actually smell the perfumed smoke. She had lit another cigarette, and with it she continued her pacing. Carefully, he grasped the back of the chair before his table and pulled it over, then found he could not sit on it and continue to look. He thought of his sample cases and was about to carry one over to put on the chair when the witch went to her closet again. He saw a flash of scarlet as she opened her door, then heard her knock at his own.
The Old Man
“Hello, Mr. Stubb,” Free said. “I hadn’t figured to see you in my kitchen this hour of the night, though you’re mighty welcome. Might I to ask what brings you here?”
“Hunger, sir,” Stubb told him. “Hunger and curiosity.”
The old man massaged his forehead with one big gnarled hand. “You’re seeking to shame me because we didn’t save you some of what Mr. Barnes brought this evening. You’re right to do it, and you’ve done it, Mr. Stubb. I’m most heartily sorry about that.”
Stubb waved the apology away. “From what I hear, it was the Serpentina woman’s money. Besides, you probably figured I ate somewhere else.”
“I didn’t figure, Mr. Stubb. That’s what it was. My mind was otherwhere, thinking about old times.”
“We all do that, sir,” Stubb said. “And I wasn’t trying to put you down when I said I was hungry. See, I got a little money tonight—I was able to help somebody out. The diner where I usually eat was closed, so I went to the all-night grocery and got a frozen TV dinner. It’s in your electric oven now. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. If you’d like to split it with me, you’re invited to.”
“No, no. I’ve had my dinner, thanks to Madame Serpentina and Mr. Barnes. Heat feels good, howsomever, and I wish you full enjoyment, Mr. Stubb. You’re welcome to my tea, if there’s any remaining.”
The old man began to back out of the room, but Stubb halted him with a gesture. “There was one other thing, sir. Curiosity, I said. Remember?”
“And what’s that, Mr. Stubb?”
“When I was getting dressed to go out, I heard some peculiar noises.”
“Old houses like this make such creakings,” Free said vaguely. “Stands to reason.”
“On windy nights they do, yes, sir. And just about any house will creak and groan when it cools down. But they hadn’t shut off the gas then, and I’ve been out twice tonight and haven’t noticed much wind either time, though it was windy earlier this afternoon. No, Mr. Free, I listened to those noises for a while and eventually I decided it was somebody walking on the roof above my head.”
The old man nodded, and crossing to the kitchen table where Stubb sat, pulled out a chair and sat down.
“It wasn’t Candy Garth, because I’d just left her. It wasn’t Barnes either. His room’s right across from mine, and all I had to do was stick my head out to hear his chair squeak and his pen scratch; he’d been in there writing something almost ever since you people ate. It could have been the Serpentina woman—her room was dark—but I didn’t think she was heavy enough. That left you, so I took a peek in your bedroom downstairs before I went out. You ought to learn to lock the door when you’re not in there.”
“I’m gone sometimes,” the old man explained softly. “Every blamed thing in there worth stealing has been taken long ago.”
“I’ve heard people talk like that before, but it was always before they got ripped off. Not afterward. Anyway, just as I was about to go out, a tile almost beaned me. I know it was a tile because I picked up a piece and had a look at it when I got to the grocery. I don’t think anybody was laying for me, because I hadn’t stepped through the doorway when it hit. Just the same, I was damn near killed, and I’d like to know what was going on.”
“You were correct about me,” the old man said. “I have no doubt it was my steps you heard. But you were wrong concerning Madame Serpentina. She was with me.”
“Ah,” Stubb said. He took off his glasses, breathed on them, and put them on again as if waiting to hear more.
“I’m sorry about that tile, I really am. Had no notion anybody might be down there that time of the night.”
“You dropped it then, sir?”
“I’m responsible,” the old man said. “You’ve got it. I was trying to show that girl something.”
“Show her what?”
“I don’t mean to get you riled, Mr. Stubb, but I don’t believe that’s your affair. Besides, that dinner of yours is about cooked. You’re lucky they haven’t shut off the electric yet. Better take her out now.”
Stubb glanced at his bare wrist. “I suppose you’re right, sir. I left my watch upstairs.”
“Hope you locked your room. Anyway, she’s done. I wind her.”
Stubb turned off the oven and carried the foil-covered tray to the table. “Sure you won’t have any?”
The old man shook his head.
“Mr. Free, what you were doing up there isn’t my business, I admit. But I’ll make it my business—if you want me to.”
“They’re going to tear this place down. I told you about that.”
“Uh-huh.” Stubb selected a drumstick and bit into it.
“They shut off my gas an hour ago. Tomorrow the electric will go off too, and the wreckers’ll come. I want you
