Unit 16
The Midnight Visitor (II)
"It's not my balcony," explained James angrily. "It belongs to the next apartment." He glanced explanatorily at Fowler. "You see," he said, "this room used to be part of a large unit, and the next room -- through that door there -- used to be living room. It has the balcony, which extends under my window now. You can get onto it from the empty room next door, and somebody did, last month. The management promised to block it off. But they haven't."
Max glanced at Fowler, who was standing stiffly a few feet from James, and waved the gun with a commanding gesture. "Sit down," he said. "We had to wait half an hour, I think."
"Thirty-one minutes," James said moodily. "The appointment was for twelve-thirty. I wish I knew how you learned about the report, Max."
The little man smiled evilly. "And we wish we knew how your people got the report. But, no harm has been done. I'll get it back tonight. What is that? Who is at the door?"
Fowler jumped at the sudden knocking at the door. James just smiled, "That'll be the police," he said. "I thought such an important paper should have a little extra protection. I told them to check on me to make sure everything was all right."
Max bit his lips nervously. The knocking was repeated. "If I don't answer the door, they'll enter anyway. The door is unlocked, and they will not hesitate to shoot." said James.
Max's face was black with anger as he backed swiftly toward the window; with his hand behind him, he opened the window and put his leg out into the night. "Send them away!" he warned. "I'll wait on the balcony. Send them away or I'll shoot and take my chances."
The knocking at the door twisted so that his gun still covered the fat man and his guest, the man at the window grasped the frame with his free hand to support himself as he rested his weight on one thigh. Then he swung his other leg up and over the window sill.
The doorknob turned. Swiftly Max pushed with his left hand to free himself and drop to the balcony. And then as he dropped, he screamed once, shrilly.
The door opened and a waiter stood there with a tray, a bottle and two glasses. "Here is the drink you ordered, sir." He set the tray on the table, uncorked the bottle, and left the room.
White faced and shaking, Fowler stared after him. "But... but... what about.. the police?" he stammered.
"There never were any police." James sighed. "Only Henry, whom I was expecting."
"But what about the man on the balcony...?" Fowler began.
"No," said James, "There is no balcony. He won't return." |