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The African blowgun was, as noted, restored above man- telpiece.
The pair of dueling pistols had been similarly returned to their places.
The Arabian dagger lay on the desk in its original posi- tion.
Four changes had been made.
On the bar, the silver bucket was filled with ice, a bottle of Dom Perignon protruding from its top.
The globe had been covered with a red silk scarf.
The casket was closed.
The Egyptian burial case was dosed.
Only one detail deprived the room of orderly appear- ance.
Still in the same position, crumpled and immobile, lay the body of Ca.s.sandra Delacorte.
This I did not understand at all.
Not that I truly understood the reasons for Max's brutal
actions.
But this was downright confusing.
Why commit a double murder, hide one body, dean up
all me evidence, then leave the other body untouched?
It made no sense- But then, very little of what happened that day-what
had already taken place and what was about to take place-
made sense.
100 Richard Matheson
At which point-with me utterly perplexed-the lunacy resumed.
In the entry hall/ the doorbell rang.
There was no response.
Where is Max? I wondered.
The doorbell rang again.
No response- Then, as though the person at the door felt that the door- bell wasn't loud enough, he (or she) began to knock.
No answer.
The knocking grew louder.
Soon became a pounding- Causing a response.
My nerve ends (what was left of them, at any rate) jumped as Ca.s.sandra made a feeble sound.
My eyeb.a.l.l.s rolled with startled speed.
Her right hand was stirring on the floor.
Now wait a second, said my mind.
The pounding on the front door stopped.
Ca.s.sandra moaned a little. Turned her head.
My eyeb.a.l.l.s rolled again. (They were to get a real work- out mat afternoon, let me tell you.)
Outside the house, a man had appeared.
He was in his middle fifties/ stocky, dressed in the hat and uniform of the local constabulary, a bolstered pistol belted at his portly waist.
He peered into the room, shading his eyes with his left hand.
At first, he only looked around TMR/ a frown of curiosity on his thick features.
Then he started, mouth gaping in surprise, as he caught sight of Ca.s.sandra.
Immediately, he charged back toward the front door.
Ca.s.sandra opened her eyes.
Now You See h... 101
Confusion reigned in me. She wasn't dead-or even in- capacitated that I could see.
She had pushed up on one elbow.
As she did, the front door of the house was flung open, cras.h.i.+ng against the entry-hall wall.
Ca.s.sandra gasped in stardement and looked around.
There was a rapid fall of boots across the entry-hall floor.
Ca.s.sandra twitched in alarm as the door was thrown open and me heavy man came bursting in.
He ran to Ca.s.sandra and knelt beside her hurriedly.
