“Be still till we see what’s happened,” I told him, and turned to the girl, pointing the dagger at her. “What’s happened?”
She was calm again.
“Come,” she said. “I’ll show you. Don’t let Eric come, please.”
“He won’t bother you,” I promised.
She nodded at that, gravely, and led us back down the corridor, around the corner, and up to a small iron door that stood ajar. She went through first. I followed her. Collinson was at my heels. Fresh air hit us when we went through the door. I looked up and saw dim stars in a dark sky. I looked down again. In the light that came through the open door behind us I saw that we were walking on a floor of white marble, or pentagonal tiles that imitated white marble. The place was dark except for the light from behind us. I took my flashlight out.
Walking unhurriedly on bare feet that must have found the tiled floor chilly, she led us straight to a square grayish shape that loomed up ahead, When she halted close to it and said, “There,” I clicked on my light.
The light glittered and glistened on a wide altar of brilliant white, crystal, and silver.
On the lowest of the three altar steps Doctor Riese lay dead on his back.
His face was composed, as if he were sleeping. His arms were straight down at his sides. His clothes were not rumpled, though his coat and vest were unbuttoned. His shirt was all blood. There were four holes in his shirt-front, all alike, all the size and shape that the weapon the girl had given me would have made. No blood was coming from his wounds now, but when I put a hand on his forehead I found it not quite cold. There was blood on the altar steps, and on the floor below, where his nose-glasses, unbroken, on the end of their black ribbon, lay.
I straightened up and swung the beam of my light into the girl’s face. She blinked and squinted, but her face showed nothing except that physical discomfort.
“You killed him?” I asked.
Young Collinson came out of his trance to bawl: “No.”
“Shut up.” I told him, stepping closer to the girl, so he couldn’t wedge himself between us. “Did you?” I asked her again.
“Are you surprised?” she inquired quietly. “You were there when my step-mother told of the cursed Dain blood in me, and of what it had done and would do to me and those who touched me. Is this,” she asked, pointing at the dead man, “anything you should not have expected?”
“Don’t be silly,” I said while I tried to figure out her calmness. I had seen her coked to the ears before, but this wasn’t that. I didn’t know what this was. “Why did you kill him?”
Collinson grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face him. He was all on fire.
“We can’t stand here talking,” he cried. “We’ve got to get her out of here, away from this. We’ve got to hide the body, or put it some place where they’ll think somebody else did it. You know how those things are done. I’ll take her home. You fix it.”
“Yeah?” I asked. “What’ll I do? Frame it on one of the Filipino boys, so they’ll hang him instead of her?”
“Yes, that’s it. You know how to–”
“Like hell that’s it,” I said. “You’ve got nice ideas.”
His face got redder. He stammered: “I didn’t–didn’t mean so they’ll hang anybody, really. I wouldn’t want you to do that. But couldn’t it be fixed for him to get away? I–I’d make it worth his while. He could–”
“Turn it off,” I growled. “You’re wasting our time.”
“But you’ve got to,” he insisted. “You came here to see that nothing happened to Gabrielle and you’ve got to go through with it.”
“Yeah? You’re a smart boy.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll pay–”
“Stop it.” I took my arm out of his hands and turned to the girl again, asking: “Who else was here when it happened?”
“No one.”
I played my light around, on the corpse and altar, all over the floor, on the walls, and saw nothing I hadn’t seen before. The walls were white, smooth, and unbroken except for the door we had come through and another, exactly like it, on the other side. These four straight whitewashed walls, undecorated, rose six stories to the sky.