She dropped the comb in the purse and looked at me. “Should I?”

“Why not?”

She gave me a crooked smile. “I’ve had two unsuccessful marriages. I’m over thirty. I’m utterly alone. And I’m washed up as a writer. So what are you going to do to me, Mr. Foley? Think of something.”

“All right. But just don’t try to get out of here.”

“Who said I was going to? This is my cottage, isn’t it? I don’t intend to be chased out of it by some displaced gladiator hiding from the police.”

I tried to read what went on behind that face, but I got nowhere. There was a chance, of course, that she was unworried because somebody was meeting her here. And when he arrived I couldn’t handle the two of them. Well, all I could do was sweat that out along with the rest of it.

Three

Wind shook the house again, and rain slashed at the windows. It was a little after four now, and in another two hours it should be growing dark. I could hear the rattle of the hasp and padlock once in awhile as gusts of wind battered at the garage doors. She was sitting on the chaise longue by the coffee table, calmly smoking a cigarette.

“Didn’t the paper say you were a merchant marine officer?” she asked.

“That’s right,” I said. “Third mate on a tanker.”

“Then why the trouble with a policeman? You’re not a criminal.”

“It was personal,” I replied. “Had nothing to do with his being a cop.”

“Did you go there with the intention of killing him?”

“No.”

“Then why did you?”

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

I heard a car coming along the road. Whirling, I slipped to the window and peered out. It was a police cruiser, going slowly past with its windshield swipes beating against the rain. It went on. In a few minutes it came back by, and I had to go through the whole thing again. It went past without slackening speed. They hadn’t noticed. I sighed. She said something.

“What?” I asked, turning away from the window.

“Was that a police car?”

I nodded.

“Why are you so worried? They have no reason to try to come in here.”

I told her about their being here before. “If they find out your car’s here now, they’re going to come in just to be sure you’re all right.”

“Oh,” she said. “So that’s the reason we can’t have a fire in the fireplace?”

”Of course.”

“What will you do if they do come?”

I shrugged. “What can I do? If you don’t go to the door they’ll know something’s wrong and they’ll come in anyway. They seem to think I have a gun.”

I reached out to feel the clothes again. The suit was still damp.