Part 9 (1/2)

What with the cold and the way the boat bounced around, Trudy didn't stand a chance of lasting through the night. It was a toss-up whether she'd freeze to death or hang.

Didn't Whittle care? Even though her life meant nothing to him, it seemed he'd want to keep her breathing just so he wouldn't lose his hold on Michael. Besides that, being the monster that he was, he'd be missing out on a heap of pleasure by killing her this way instead of butchering her with his knife. Didn't make any sense at all.

Well, there's no accounting for the whims of a madman.

I stayed in bed, listening to him snore and keeping my eyes on Trudy. She'd let up on her sobbing. She just stood there, her head up, her legs apart and bent just a bit, her feet shuffling as the floor tried to throw her. The way shadows hid her eyes, I couldn't tell whether she was watching me. But she must've suspected I was looking at her, for she always kept her hands low as if she was worried I might get a peek at what was between her legs.

I'd been in her fix, I would've been holding on to the rope over my head and let folks look where they pleased.

She needn't have bothered trying to cover that part, anyhow, since I got glimpses every now and again when the boat lurched and she couldn't help but jerk her hands up as she stumbled about. I didn't see nothing but a bunch of hair, and it pained me how the rope looked like it was digging up into her.

The sight sure didn't stir me up, and neither did her bosoms which jiggled and shook considerable.

There'd been times when I'd longed something awful for a chance to spy what girls had under their clothes. Why, it used to drive me crazy wondering how it might be, and what it would feel like to touch certain places.

I reckon Sue the wh.o.r.e had a hand in souring my appet.i.te for such things. But nothing like the way Mary soured it, thanks to Whittle. And now here was Trudy, bare as the day she was born and near enough to reach out and touch, and yet I was no more thrilled than if she'd been a fellow.

It was a peculiar business to be worrying about while she stood there at the end of a rope. But the truth is, I felt cheated. Even though I knew it'd only make me feel guilty if I was taking enjoyment out of watching Trudy, I figured it would've been the natural thing.

Maybe I was just hurting too much to appreciate her. After all, my face and head purely throbbed with pain from the drubbing Whittle'd given me. Or maybe it had to do with feeling so awful about the way he'd tormented Trudy-on account of me.

I suspect all that played a part in it, but the main thing was Whittle's work on Mary. She'd been the first gal I ever saw naked, and that was a sight to turn the stomach. I got to thinking Whittle might've put me off women forever.

And I hated him for that. Not that I needed any more reason to hate the filthy swine. The extra bit of hate over how he'd ruined women for me, though, was enough to make me lose caution.

I pushed my covers down and sat up.

”What're you doing?” Trudy whispered.

”Shhhh.” Not that I figured Whittle could hear her through his own snoring.

As I swung my legs down, Trudy shook her head wildly.

”Stay where you are.”

”He'll be the death of us both if I don't kill him.”

”You can't can't kill him.” kill him.”

”I'll slash his throat with his own knife before he even wakes up.”

”If you leave your berth, I'll scream.”

”What's the matter with you?”

”Look what you've already done to me with your foolishness. It wasn't you you he strung up and whipped.” he strung up and whipped.”

”I wish it had been me. Honest.”

”It wasn't. If you try for him again, there's no telling what he'll do to me.”

”Nothing he won't do, anyway, if he lives.”

”Lie down and be still. I swear to the Almighty, I'll scream if you don't.”

Well, I stretched out and pulled the blankets back on top of me. ”If you hadn't made me tie you up,” I muttered, ”we would've had him. It'd all be over, now. He wouldn't have hurt you like he did do. We'd be sailing back to London this very minute.”

”Hush up and go to sleep.”

”I'll hush up.”

”And go to sleep. I've had enough of your staring at me.”

”I'm only looking out for you.”

”I know what you're doing. You're horrible and nasty. Now, stop it and turn your head away.”

”No, ma'am. I'm sorry. If you'd rather I not see your front side, you might turn around.” I don't know why she she hadn't thought of that. hadn't thought of that.

”If you must know, I need to see the lamp.” It was by the door past my feet. ”It helps me keep steady.”

”Well, then, stay the way you are. Rest a.s.sured, I'm not taking any special enjoyment from the view.”

She muttered, ”Beast,” and then went quiet.

I kept my eyes on her. She kept s.h.i.+fting about. She seemed to know just which way the floor'd tip next, and changed her footing ahead of time. Good as she was, though, I had my doubts she'd be able to keep it up all night-or until Whittle quit his sleeping and unhanged her.

I could see how the cold was getting to her. She'd been gooseb.u.mpy and s.h.i.+vering all along. As time went by, though, the s.h.i.+vers got worse till she was fairly shuddering. Her teeth chittered together. She s.h.i.+mmied from head to toe. It put me in mind of exotic Arabian harem dancers I'd read about. Then she got too out of control for any sort of dancer. The way she shook and twitched and jittered about made her look like a marionette-one that had a fellow with an attack of palsy running the strings for it.

All of a sudden, the boat nosed down and pitched Trudy off her feet. She dropped backward till the noose stopped her. She let out a choke. Her tied hands flew up and grabbed the rope beside her face while she heeled the floor. Just when she almost got herself standing, another lurch of the boat flung her feet out from under her all over again.

Whittle kept on snoring.

A shout might've stirred him up. But I figured he might just let her swing.

I hurled myself out of bed. My bound feet landed on stew. I gave the floor a smart slam, but didn't let that stop me. In a blink, I was on my hands and knees, scooting myself toward Trudy. Tied like I was, I didn't know how to go about saving her.

What happened, though, I pushed right into her kicking legs. After giving me a few thumps, they quit thras.h.i.+ng and used my shoulders for braces. I scooched forward, head between them, forcing them back, and before long Trudy was standing. She coughed and gasped for a spell, but I could tell she wasn't getting strangled any more.

She stood there, shaking and panting, and mas.h.i.+ng my head with her knees till I feared my skull might cave in.

”Let go,” I whispered.

”I'll fall.” Her voice had a whiny, scared sound.

Somebody laughed. It wasn't me. It wasn't Trudy.

”Whittle!” I cried out. ”Help us!”

”It's been a jolly fine show. I shouldn't like to spoil it now.”