Anne was clearly more alarmed by Edward’s state of mind than his premonition. But there was a trace of doubt in her dark eyes as she looked at Charlotte, implying, “I don’t believe this but we’d better humour him. “
“I’m coming with you,” said Charlotte. “So am I!” Madeleine said combatively, running down the stairs ahead of them. Edward seemed so concerned now that they didn’t even stop in the lower hall for their coats.
Madeleine opened the front door and Edward hurried out to his car, a small, boxy Austin Seven with a canvas roof. As he cranked the engine into life, Anne climbed into the front seat, Charlotte and her sister into the back. Maddy didn’t speak but was visibly composing herself, squaring her shoulders and tidying her hair, with a warlike gleam in her eye.
I wish I had half her spirit, Charlotte thought as Edward swung the car off the drive and on to the narrow farm track that led to the manor house. How painful to be hated by someone I love. God, what am I going to do? Then, Poor Edward… but what if he’s right? Memories of the awful things David and Anne had said last night… No, don’t be ridiculous. How could Karl be any danger to David? He’s so gentle… I won’t believe any of it!
***
In the entrance hall of the manor house, a fire blazed in the grate and estate workmen could be heard talking and whistling over the sound of hammers and saws from the kitchen. It was good to have some life in the place, David thought, but the cheerful sounds did not seem to reach up into the vaulted ceiling. The stairs and landing had a grey, brooding look.
“Good mornin’, Captain Neville, sir.” The foreman, a lean good-natured man of about forty, leaned through a doorway and touched his cap. “If you need us for anything, just give us a shout.” He disappeared into the kitchen again.
“They’re doing well with the plumbing,” said David. “We have a bathroom and running water—and not only down the walls.” His gaze travelled up the stairs; no workmen up there, so they would not be overheard. “I think we’ll look upstairs first.”
“As you wish,” said the dark, elegant figure at his side. David was no stranger to dealing with difficult situations, yet for some reason the prospect of beginning this conversation made him nervous. Best to get it over with.
As they climbed the long sweep of stairs, David said, “I’ll come straight to the point, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Karl smiled, inclining his head. “I appreciate directness.”
“Well, it strikes me you’ve been taking rather more than a friendly interest in Charlotte. If you have sisters of your own you will understand the responsibilities a brother has. This is nothing personal, but you must appreciate that it’s my duty to find out the truth of the matter.”
“Naturally,” said Karl, his eyebrows lifting slightly.
“Perhaps I’ve got the wrong impression, but I don’t think so.” Karl said nothing. “I must warn you, my father is very old-fashioned about these things and I rather take after him. Casual affairs may be all the rage elsewhere—but not in this family.”
“I assure you, my regard for Charlotte is anything but casual,” said Karl.
Good God, thought David, I was so sure he’d deny it. “She, ahm—claimed you were in love with each other. Are you admitting it?”
“I should not like to lie to you, David. I hold her in great affection and esteem. Sadly for both of us, there is no future for our love—so there would be no point in asking your father’s permission to court her. She is aware of this.”
David was taken aback by the directness of this reply. “In that case, there is all the more reason to leave her alone.”
“I agree with you,” said Karl, but his face was unreadable.
“I’m glad to hear it,” David said with a touch of belligerence. “You know, the poor girl broke her engagement because of you. It’s caused a great deal of disruption in my family. A man might almost read some kind of mischievous intent into it. I hope I’m wrong.”
Karl moved along the landing and leaned on the balustrade. Calmly he said, “I am very fond of all your family and it saddens me that you think I could wish them any harm. Perhaps you would explain why you have this idea.”
David hesitated, battling an irrational feeling that it would be very dangerous to tell the truth. He was used to dealing with people in a straightforward way and this eggshell dance disconcerted him. “Very well, I’ll come clean. I overheard part of a conversation between you and your friend Pierre last night.” He didn’t intend to implicate Anne. “I didn’t mean to, I just happened to be on the terrace while you were in the library… “
“Ah.” A slight shadow touched Karl’s face. “What do you think you heard?”
“Enough to convince me that your friend Pierre is not the most pleasant of fellows.”
“To be honest with you, he is not. Yet he is my friend.” Karl gazed up at the beamed vault. “As I said, Pierre is a little like your friend Edward; he appears normal enough, but he can be… unstable. Sometimes he has to be protected from himself.”
David was offended at Edward being compared with the obnoxious Frenchman. “Unstable in that he might actually become violent?”
“It has been known,” Karl answered, giving David a long sideways glance. “That was why I took him away.”
David said gravely, “There’s no chance, is there, that Madeleine’s ‘illness’ was due to her being attacked or frightened by Pierre?”
“That happened days before Pierre arrived.”
“But didn’t you imply that he was responsible?”
Karl looked straight at him, eyes like embers; dark and cold, yet glowing. It was the first time David had noticed how compelling they were. “You must have watched for quite some time.”
“Long enough to see that you had a damned strange way of dealing with your friend. Apparently by trying to tear his throat out.”
“I don’t know how you may have misinterpreted what you saw and heard, but I can assure you there was nothing sinister in it. Pierre was distressed over a private matter, hence his erratic behaviour. Surely you realise that old friends develop a way of communicating that makes no sense to outsiders? It must be the same for army men.” And still those eyes were on him, so deep-etched in the marble-pale face.
“Yes, of course, but—”
“You would not expect me to explain my private business with an old acquaintance—unless, of course, my word is not good enough for you.”
This sounded perfectly reasonable to David. In fact, he was beginning to doubt what he had seen. Must’ve got my wires crossed somewhere…
“Of course I have to accept your word, Karl, one gentleman to another. You have me at a disadvantage, because I shouldn’t have witnessed a private conversation. I apologise for that—on condition that you consider your relationship with Charlotte at an end.”
“No need to apologise,” Karl said politely. “And if you feel honour would be satisfied by knocking me downstairs, I shall understand.”
David smiled uneasily. “I’m sure we can sort this out in a civilised way. You’ll appreciate that it may be for the best if you don’t go back to Cambridge.”
“That rather depends on Dr Neville,” said Karl, his voice razor-edged. And he gazed not so much at David as through him, as if knowing that David had no power over him. Not mocking, but something worse; not even caring. Preoccupied. And David knew he was lying, that something was going on, yet he felt powerless to unearth the truth.
There was a red glint in Karl’s irises; reflection of the hall fire, but it gave him a deathly malevolent look. Surely he wasn’t so pale when we came in… There was never much colour in his face, but now it seemed to have as much in common with human flesh as alabaster. An eerie, hungry glow. And suddenly he said very softly, “David, if I were you I should leave here now.”
Karl’s hands tightened on the rail; his knuckles shone through the skin.
“Anything wrong?” David said, disconcerted.
“I am more tired than I realised, that’s all.” Karl turned, came towards him. David took a step or two backwards, involuntarily, and pressed himself against the balustrade. He didn’t know why he felt this need to shrink away, but a wave of fear left gooseflesh in its wake.
Then the front door creaked open and watery daylight spilled across the hall below them. Karl halted, unnaturally still save for the slow smooth turn of his head as he looked down. “David?” a voice called. “Thank God… ” David recognised the thin figure that stood silhouetted in the doorway, one side rimmed by firelight.
“Edward!” he called, surprised but strangely relieved. “This is unexpected. What brings you here?”
Edward answered hesitantly, “Just come to, er—make sure you’re all right, old man… ” Anne, Charlotte and Madeleine came into the hall after him. Odd, none of them wearing coats.
“Don’t come up, we’re on our way down,” said David. As he spoke, he saw Edward’s gaze shift sideways to Karl. Edward tensed visibly. He seemed to struggle between growing panic and the instinct to behave correctly. David recognised the onset of a nervous attack and he willed Edward to control it, thinking, Keep a grip, old man. Don’t let it happen again.
Karl went straight past David, as if glad of this opportunity to leave. “If you will excuse me,” he murmured.
As he started down the stairs, Edward’s eyes turned wild with horror. Edward, no, David thought in alarm. Control it, for God’s sake!—but the change was too swift, the outburst too sudden to be prevented. Before he could move, Edward was shouting hoarsely, “Keep away from him, David! He’s evil, can’t you see? Get out of here!”
Karl stopped, half-way down the stairs. Rather than fleeing the house as David had expected, Edward started forward across the hall. He came limping and stumbling up the stairs with his walking-stick held like a bayonet. “Run, David! I’ll hold him! For Christ’s sake, run!”
“Edward, no!” David yelled. He started towards the stairs, but he was too far away to do anything. Edward hurled himself upwards and thrust the stick straight into Karl’s stomach.
David’s own gut tightened in sympathy—yet Karl didn’t even flinch. Instead he clasped the stick easily in both hands, turned it aside, then used it to drag Edward towards him. Edward seemed unable to let go. David could not see Karl’s face, he could only see his friend’s, collapsing from battle-frenzy into abject terror as the Austrian’s hands shot out and closed on his shoulders. Karl’s strength was too swift, too effortless to be human.
It happened so fast. David could only stand and stare. The words went through his mind afterwards, over and over again. I should have stopped them but it happened so fast!
With Edward in his grip Karl turned a little, so David could see him from the side. His face was bone-pale, his expression blankly demonic. His iris was an arc of scarlet fire. Then, most horrible, his mouth opened and David stared in utter disbelief as the canines grew visibly into fangs. Less than a second, it took. Then Karl lunged and sank those vicious ivory wolf-teeth into Edward’s neck.
Edward gave a strangled, bubbling cry. A line of blood spurted out; Karl’s lips moved to stem the escaping flow, and he clutched Edward to him with a ghastly intentness. A feasting panther. Monstrous.
David caught a glimpse of the girls down in the hall. Anne was clutching Charlotte; he knew from their expressions they had seen everything. Madeleine had her eyes tightly closed.
David’s paralysis broke and he sprinted down the stairs. “What the hell—? Let him go!” he shouted, striking Karl on the shoulder. It was like striking a marble column. Karl’s arm shot out and sent him sprawling down the stairs on his stomach.
David scrabbled madly to stop himself and ended up at the bottom of the stairs, bruised and winded. He felt something fall against him, warm and heavy. A body. Edward. It was a moment before David could clear his head, and then he felt hands on his arms, looked up into the shocked faces of Anne and Charlotte.
As they helped him to his feet the hall was suddenly full of people. The foreman and several workmen had rushed out to see what the commotion was and they were crowding round him. Madeleine stood a couple of feet away, her eyes squeezed shut as if to squeeze the sight out of her mind.
“Stay back! I’m all right,” David barked, and they all jumped away from him as if burned.
Edward lay crumpled on the bottom stair. Blood stained the lapels of his jacket, and his throat was a purple-red mess, with two ragged wounds glistening in the gore. With a groan of disgust—not at the blood, but at what Karl had done to him—David bent down and tried to find his pulse. Nothing. A fist of grief punched through him. He stood up and cried, “Someone get him to a doctor! Quickly!”
He looked up. Karl von Wultendorf had vanished, but the workmen were rushing by on either side of him. “He’s nipped in one o’ the bedrooms, sir,” said the foreman as he dashed up towards the landing.
David started after him, shouting, “Be careful, he’s dangerous.” He glanced back, saw Anne and Charlotte bending over Edward, Maddy staring at them but not helping.
He thanked God that the estate men had acted so quickly, at least. Without them, Karl might have escaped, but they had trapped him in a room with a window too small for escape—if he had chosen to throw himself from the upper storey. The foreman and three others were just inside the door; the Austrian in the centre of the stone-walled room, facing them. The air was consumptive with dust and damp, the light the colour of cobwebs.
As long as he lived, David would never forget von Wultendorf’s face. There was nothing demonic about it. He looked so damned tranquil. His skin was softly coloured now—with Edward’s blood? Almost expressionless, just a minimal curve of the lips that was not quite a smile; but his eyes! One moment they seemed sad, the next full of sleepy contentment, then coldly ruthless. Yet they never changed. The varying impressions were in David’s mind; the truth behind those deceptive orbs remained hidden.
“Give the word, sir, and we’ll rush him,” said the foreman, but no one moved.
David shouldered through them, so angry that he could hardly find his voice. “Well, you’ve revealed yourself for what you are, von Wultendorf. If Edward’s dead, You’ll swing for this! Now you may as well give yourself up quietly, because there’s nowhere you’re going except straight to the police station.”
Karl held his hands palms outwards, almost a gesture of supplication. “I cannot express my regret for what has happened,” he said in a low voice. “But I must warn you that it would be dangerous to try to detain me.”
“You have the effrontery to threaten us, after what you’ve done?”
“I am telling you that I don’t wish to hurt anyone; but if you try to prevent me leaving, I will. I know you to be a man of high courage, David, which is why I rather doubt you will heed my warning. But I wish you would.”
“Bloody nerve!” said David under his breath. “So, you refuse to give yourself up?”
“I have no intention of doing so.”
“Right.” He heard movement behind him, glanced round to see a short, heavily built carpenter come panting across the landing, carrying several lengths of lead piping. “Oh, good man!”
As the carpenter distributed the primitive weapons, David whispered, “We’ll spread out and surround him. Only go carefully, he’s damned strong.”
“It will do you no good,” said Karl, as if he had heard. “I implore you not to. You cannot win.”
“We’ll see about that.” And the six men began to move across the uneven wooden floor towards von Wultendorf, who, disconcertingly, did not move a muscle.
“What’s going on?” said a female voice, out on the landing. It was Madeleine. David ignored her, willing her to go away. Then, louder, “What on earth do you all think you’re doing?”
The men halted in their tracks. David glanced round, cursing. Madeleine stood in the doorway, arms folded, cheeks red with anger. She must have seen Karl attack Edward, yet she was behaving
as if it hadn’t happened—or as if she couldn’t accept it.
“Maddy, please keep out of the way,” David said firmly.
“This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “Leave Karl alone, you’ve no right.”
“Maddy—”
In advancing on Karl the men had left the doorway clear. To everyone’s astonishment, she simply walked straight between them and stood at Karl’s side, facing them indignantly.
“This is barbaric!” she cried. “Just put those things down and let’s try to sort out this misunderstanding.”
David froze. It was like watching someone touching a match to spilled petrol. Karl simply looked at Madeleine with that same awful intensity in his face; then his hand flashed out and curled round her wrist.
She gasped with pain. “Karl, you’re hurting me,” she exclaimed, trying to ease his grip. When she found she could not, she looked up into his eyes and her indignation began to dissolve into confusion.
“Now,” said Karl, with the same incongruous politeness, “perhaps you will listen to me. I have no wish to harm anyone; nothing will happen to Madeleine, as long as you do as I say. Everyone must leave the house. I shall remain here, with her as my hostage to ensure against any further attack.”
“What?” David said furiously.
“I think you heard me. I can’t tell you how much I regret this. But I must be left alone.”
He held up Madeleine’s bird-thin wrist in his hand, as if to emphasise the point. The grip seemed to have immobilised her. “Karl?” she said. David saw the revelation hit her as the horror of the situation sank in at last, as she was finally forced to see Karl for what he was. Her face fell with terror, as Edward’s had, and she began to struggle like a dying bird. “Karl, let me go,” she cried, breathless with fear. Then, when he did not respond, “David, help me!”
***
Charlotte helped Anne to carry Edward to his car, somehow got him into the rear seat while Anne cranked the engine. He felt so heavy, lifeless. She sobbed unconsciously as she arranged his limbs, while all the time the images were searing through her mind; Karl on the stairs, expressionless, eyes like fire through rubies as Edward rushed up towards him; Karl seizing Edward, tearing into his throat with vulpine ferocity, sucking his blood then throwing him aside as if he were a doll. Pushing David down the stairs—God, no, impossible, all of it—but she had seen it, seen it.
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