As the holder and the poker toppled toward the andirons, Kingsley reacted instinctively to prevent the sound of brass crashing against brass. He made a grab for the falling holder, and in that fraction of a second he was an open target and Corey delivered a slashing blow with his hard clenched fist, the knuckles bashing Kingsley’s jaw. Corey followed with another right hand to the jaw, then a sizzling left hook that hit Kingsley in the throat. Kingsley, now semiconscious, was losing his grip on the gun but still tried to bring up the gun and aim it and squeeze the trigger. Lita stood there motionless, frozen, unable to believe what she was seeing. The flashlight was loose in her hand, her brain incapable of functioning technically. Without knowing it, she was aiming the flashlight at Kingsley, the glow showing Kingsley on his knees as he kept trying to bring up the gun. Corey hit him again on the jaw and he dropped the gun. Then he rolled over, flat on his back, his eyes closed.

Corey picked up the gun. He did it with his left hand, his right hand bent limply, the knuckles swollen and bleeding. He brought his right hand to his mouth and licked some of the blood from his knuckles. He had the gun pointed at Lita, smiling dimly, with pity. She didn’t seem to know he was there. She remained motionless, the flashlight still focused on the prone senseless form of Delbert Kingsley. The sight of Kingsley stretched out cold was too much for her to take and her green eyes were wide and glazed, as though she was in a trance.

Corey started toward her, with the intention of taking the flashlight from her hand. He wanted to use the flashlight to find a wall switch and light up the parlor. As he reached for the flashlight, the ceiling lights were already glowing, switched on from the second floor hallway. The sleeper, awakened by the noise, was coming down the stairs. Corey turned and looked and saw a perplexed frown creasing the face of Walter Grogan.

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Grogan was wearing yellow silk pajamas. There was a gun in his hand. At the foot of the stairway he came to a stop and just stood there looking at Corey, then at Lita, then at Corey again. There was no sound in the room. Grogan moved slowly across the room, with the gun he pointed to the man prone on the floor near the fireplace and said, “What’s this?”

“The package,” Corey said. “The one you wanted. The one who hired them two masked hoods.”