Part 14 (2/2)

Discrediting Seth c.u.mmings had not been as formidable a task. A party at Stahr's, a security guard with a small camera, and a set of prints sent anonymously to Vernon Warren, c.u.mmings's chief internal rival, had been enough to do the trick-that, along with c.u.mmings's own weakness for wealthy, powerful, and desirable women. c.u.mmings was unemployed within the week.

”They are yours,” Renault had told David Neville after the three had accepted the first part of the offer. ”I have no doubt that these three will choose to remain in The Pines for the million. However, at this time I have certain requirements.”

”You, Simon? And what makes you think I'll go along with them?”

”If you don't,” Renault replied calmly, ”I'll inform the three gentlemen involved that you intend their deaths. You may then fire me, or sue me for slander, or even”-here he smiled wryly-”hire me as your fourth bodyguard, but your plan will have been ruined nonetheless.”

”Someday, Simon,” said David coldly, ”you'll push me too far and I'll forget that you used to tell me bedtime stories. But what are these demands of yours?”

”They're simple. No weapons inside the house. No firearms, no knives, swords, or spears hung as decorations on the walls. No poisons or materials that could be used as such. That's all.”

”What about no rope-I might garrote them. What about no forks-I might go for their jugulars. What about no socks-I might fill one with stones and cosh them. Oh, Simon, you've left me a veritable array of death.” David laughed chillingly. ”You still think I intend to kill them then?”

”I don't know, but I won't take the chance. I've done enough simply by arranging it so that they have to take your offer. I won't be party to any deaths as well.”

”I'm going to tell you something, Simon, and I'll tell you only once. I will not cause these men's deaths. I swear it. I'll do nothing to prevent harm from coming to them, but I won't be the cause of it myself.” He was silent for a moment, staring into Renault's eyes. ”Do you believe me?”

Renault thought, then nodded his head. ”But no weapons,” he repeated.

”No weapons,” David Neville agreed.

Now, as Renault sat there trying not to think of his next cup of coffee, he almost wished he had not made that demand, that David and Gabrielle had had perhaps a small handgun to protect themselves if things got touchy. He did not feel that either Wickstrom, McNeely, or c.u.mmings were dangerous men, despite their reputations or lines of work. But in such a situation, and with a woman as desirable as Gabrielle ... he shrugged and whispered a silent prayer that at least she was all right.

He'd thought David had been a fool to allow her to join him, even though he'd told Renault that he was powerless to stop her once she had her mind made up. Renault thought the truth was somewhat different. He believed that David intended to die in The Pines, and could not conceive of leaving this life without Gabrielle at his side. For this reason, and in respect of their love, Renault had made only feeble protests to Gabrielle, who had dismissed them with a seemingly unconcerned lightness.

”He's my husband, Simon, and I intend to be with him. The Pines holds no fear for me, and it means so much to David. It's the only hope he has left.”

David had cautioned Renault not to tell Gabrielle the truth behind the choice of their three ”bodyguards,” so a story was concocted regarding David's desire to see how different men from different yet ruthlessly similar professions would function under conditions of unseen stress. She had thought the explanation odd, but so much that David had done in the past few months had been strange that she accepted it without question.

Renault wished again that David had permitted him to wire the house for sound, but he had been adamant. ”This is me and the house, Simon-and me against them. There'll be no last-minute rescues. I want to be on my own in there. And what's more, I don't want anything to destroy our chances of finding what I want to find there.”

”You mean ghosts.”

”Yes. I mean ghosts.”

Well, thought Simon, they'd all be d.a.m.ned lucky if they didn't all end up as ghosts before the month was out. He couldn't check up on them personally, so he did the next best thing. He picked up the phone and dialed John Sterne.

Sterne was watching television when the phone rang, and the shrillness of the sound in the small room made him jump. He grabbed it before the second ring. ”Sterne.”

”This is Renault.”

”Simon. What's up?”

”I just called to . . . to see how things are going.” Sterne sighed. ”Quietly, Simon. You know I'll call you as soon as”-he corrected himself-”if anything happens.”

”Yes, I know. I suppose I'm just worried.”

”Well, don't be. Everything's quiet as . . . as can be up here.” Quiet as death? That's what I was going to say.

”How are you getting along, John? And Monckton?”

”Just fine.” Monckton and John Sterne, Renault's right-hand man, were stationed in the caretaker's cabin at the bottom of Pine Mountain, waiting for the month to end, or for something else to happen. ”We've gone on a twelve-hour s.h.i.+ft. Monckton's a nighthawk, so I'm dawn till dusk, and he takes the dark.”

”May I speak to him? Is he sleeping?”

”He's . . . he can't come to the phone right now. Shall he call you?”

There was a slight pause. ”No, never mind. I'll try not to bother you again.”

”No bother, Simon. We're concerned too. But like I said, it's been quiet.”

”All right. Try not to get too bored. Goodbye, John.”

” 'Bye, Simon.” Sterne hung up and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Thank G.o.d Renault hadn't asked where Monckton was. Orders had been for both of them to remain in the cabin for the entire thirty-one days so that they could respond quickly to any emergency call from the house, and Neville/Renault orders were not to be taken lightly, even though they may have been given that way.

But Monckton was not at the cabin. He was at the house.

It had started only a few days after the five were shut in. When Monckton got off his s.h.i.+ft at dawn, he would go outside and stand at the bottom of the road, looking up toward where it became lost in the labyrinth of trees that cupped the first turn. He'd watch for a few minutes, as if expecting to see something coming from around that curve, down from the top of the mountain. Then he'd go into the cabin and sleep, or eat a light meal and watch early morning television. He had a drafting table there, but so far he hadn't been able to make himself sit down and work on any of the upcoming projects he had.

Two days ago he'd driven up the mountain for the first time since he'd come down with Renault. There'd been no preamble to the act, only that restless unease that had possessed him since their vigil had begun.

”We were told to stay here,” Sterne had reminded him, but Monckton had only shook his head.

”I know that,” he answered, ”but I've got to go up there, got to check it out.”

”Check it out? What do you expect to find? The place is tightly sealed, Monckton. They could all be screaming and shooting guns off inside and you'd never know it.”

”I guess you're right,” Monckton grudgingly acknowledged. ”Maybe you're right. But I think I'll know if everything's okay. Besides, what's the difference if I'm there or here when the alarm goes? It's not like I drove down into town. ”

”What if Renault calls?”

”You can handle him. Tell him I'm sleeping or on the john or something. Don't worry about it. It's no big deal.”

No big deal my a.s.s, Sterne thought. He had considered calling Renault and reporting Monckton's insubordination, then thought better of it. If the alarm did go off, Monckton would be that much closer to doing something about it. The two .38 revolvers and the .12 gauge in the Jeep would insure that he could handle whatever problem came up. Sterne had felt a sudden queasiness in his stomach at the thought of Monckton driving away, leaving him alone with the silence of the forest and that squat black phone connected to The Pines. But Monckton would not leave; he was fairly confident of that. The man seemed enthralled by the house a mile above, and their conversations had usually drifted back to David Neville's grand experiment. Sterne suspected, that Monckton knew more about the house than he let on, but Sterne had never tried to push him into any revelation. Instead, it was Monckton who kept pressing the subject.

”Is it possible, do you think?” he'd ask Sterne over and over again. ”Even if you haven't, has there been anyone in your family who's claimed to see a ghost or anything like it?”

Sterne could only sigh and say no. He, like his entire family, was a realist with no time for haunts. This month was to him simply an inconvenience that lengthened his term of apprentices.h.i.+p to Simon Renault, delaying Sterne's ultimate goal of taking over the old man's position when death or old age retired him. At least this time of deadly dull service above and beyond should put a feather in his cap, if Monckton's short drives were not discovered.

He felt guilty about covering for Monckton on the phone with Simon. He should have reported it and covered his own a.s.s instead of setting himself up to be caught in a lie. But it seemed so harmless, and how would Renault ever find out? Besides, Monckton was just curious. Sterne had asked him when he'd come back from his first visit what he'd done, and Monckton had simply shrugged. ”Nothing,” he'd said. ”What could I do? I just walked around the house and listened at the doors.”

”Hear anything?” Sterne had inquired with sarcasm.

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