Dr. Phibes
Page 18
The banging grew louder, loud enough to shake the entire house. The wooden shutters at a side window vibrated, then splintered, the glass beneath shattered by a crowbar.
Vulnavia turned her attention to the remaining chandelier. She fired once, twice, the second bullet brought the heavy crystal plummeting to the floor.
Just before the crystal fell, Phibes saw Vesalius fit the key into the locked hasp about Lem’s neck. The metal parted. He rolled the heavy table to the side, just as the acid dripped to the floor with an angry sizzle.
The ballroom was suddenly cast into semi-darkness. Phibes quickened his tempo as the police, Harry Trout at the lead, kicked away the remaining pieces of shutter at the far end of the ballroom.
Incongruously, the orchestra started up, playing a somewhat out of time accompaniment to Phibes at the organ.
“Phibes! It’s Phibes!” Trout shouted. His men crouched, and started to close the distance, their clubs drawn. Trout and Schenley led the advance with heavy flashlights. Then a large couch hurtled across the floor, partly blocking their way. Vulnavia stood in the center of the floor brandishing a large axe. The orchestra played at a frenzied pace.
For a moment they were at a standoff. Then Trout parried by rolling the couch back, forcing Vulnavia toward the dais. In the confusion Phibes had activated the lift and was sinking to the level below. To cover his retreat, Vulnavia backed through the musicians, whose movements had become erratic, and took up a position next to the organ. She would protect her master to the end.
The squad reached the stage. One policeman got his leg up on the dais to go after Phibes, but was sent back sprawling by a terrific clout from the saxophone player. The others tried, but met similar fates from the frenzied musicians who flailed and swung their instruments with senseless violence.
Trout and Schenley worked their way around to the side. They had to get to the organ before it disappeared.
At that the band stopped. Instruments clattered to the floor and the musicians came to rest. The organ, which had continued playing during the descent, now drew closer. Then it rose up from the floor. Vulnavia, her back to Trout and Schenley, was at the keyboard. Before they could reach her she rose and, grasping a slender dagger from near the keys, plunged it into her side. Schenley rushed to her but it was too late. The haunted girl died as she had lived, without a word passing her lips.
It all happened in an instant but it was long enough for Phibes to reach the shrine room. Once safely inside, a calmness smoothed the despair that had distorted his features for so long. His movements were gentle, almost affectionate as he made his way to a small chamber. There he pulled away a gauze diadem and gazed on his wife’s body, which lay, perfect in every way, in a large double quartz coffin.
He sighed and climbed in beside her. Then, with an expression of thankful repose on his brow, he adjusted a tube containing embalming fluid to his arm and closed his eyes for the last time.
Upstairs Trout and Schenley pulled Vulnavia’s form from the organ and after searching a bit, found the key to the elevator mechanism. As they rode down to the next level, they were greeted by an exhausted but much relieved Vesalius.
The three men searched the lower level, finding nothing but barren brick walls.
“He’s gone, vanished, and that’s impossible,” Schenley said.
Vesalius shook his head. “But that still leaves the final curse.”
Trout shrugged. “We’ll not see the last of Dr. Phibes until the tenth curse. I suggest we be thinking about that, gentlemen.”
Table of Contents
Cover
Dr. Phibes
Also by William Goldstein
Title
Dedication
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16