The beam of the flashlight was coming closer, only two or three floors below now, climbing rapidly. Judd’s body went cold with fear. His heart began to pound like a trip-hammer, and his legs felt weak. He turned quickly and went back up the stairs to his floor. He opened the door and stood, listening. What if someone were waiting up here in the dark corridor for him?
The sounds of the footsteps advancing up the stairs were louder now. His mouth dry, Judd turned and made his way along the inky corridor. When he reached the elevators, he began counting office doors. As he reached his office, he heard the stairwell door open. The keys slipped from his nervous fingers and dropped to the floor. He fumbled for them frantically, found them, opened the door to his reception room, and went in, double-locking the door behind him. No one could open it now without a special key.
From the corridor outside, he could hear the sound of approaching footsteps. He went into his private office and flicked the light switch. Nothing happened. There was no power at all in the building. He locked the inner door, then moved to the phone. He fumbled for the dial and dialed the operator. There were three long, steady rings, and then the operator’s voice, Judd’s only link to the outside world.
He spoke softly. “Operator, this is an emergency. This is Dr. Judd Stevens. I want to speak to Detective Frank Angeli at the Nineteenth Precinct. Please hurry!”
“Thank you. Your number please?”
Judd gave it to her.
“One moment, please.”
He heard the sound of someone testing the corridor entrance to his private office. They could not get in that way because there was no outside knob on the door.
“Hurry, Operator!”
“One moment, please,” replied the cool, unhurried voice.
There was a buzz on the line and then the police switchboard operator spoke. “Nineteenth Precinct.”
Judd’s heart leaped. “Detective Angeli,” he said. “It’s urgent!”
“Detective Angeli…just a moment, please.”
Outside in the corridor, something was happening. He could hear the sound of muted voices. Someone had joined the first man. What were they planning?
A familiar voice came on the phone. “Detective Angeli’s not here. This is his partner, Lieutenant McGreavy. Can—”
“This is Judd Stevens. I’m in my office. The lights are all out and someone’s trying to break in and kill me!”
There was a heavy silence on the other end. “Look, Doctor,” said McGreavy. “Why don’t you come down here and we’ll talk a—”
“I can’t come down there,” Judd almost shouted. “Someone’s trying to murder me!”
There was another silence at the other end of the line. McGreavy did not believe him and was not going to help him. Outside, Judd heard a door open, and then the sound of voices in the reception office. They were in the reception office! It was impossible for them to have gotten in without a key. But he could hear them moving, coming toward the door to his private office.
McGreavy’s voice was coming over the phone, but Judd did not even listen. It was too late. He replaced the receiver. It would not have mattered even if McGreavy had agreed to come. The assassins were here! Life is a very thin thread and it only takes a second to snap it. The fear that gripped him turned to a blind rage. He refused to be slaughtered like Hanson and Carol. He was going to put up a fight. He felt around in the dark for a possible weapon. An ashtray…a letter opener…useless. The assassins would have guns. It was a Kafka nightmare. He was being condemned for no reason by faceless executioners.
He heard them moving closer to the inner door and knew that he only had a minute or two left to live. With a strange, dispassionate calm, as though he were his own patient, he examined his final thoughts. He thought of Anne, and a sense of aching loss filled him. He thought of his patients, and of how much they needed him. Harrison Burke. With a pang he remembered that he had not yet told Burke’s employer that Burke had to be committed. He would put the tapes where they could be…His heart lurched. Perhaps he did have a weapon to fight with!