Final Paradox

Chapter 27

Elderly woman [Norma Dinnick], attacked in her own home, outsmarts the mob. Nearly knocks out thug with frying pan!  

Ross Brackley watched Norma’s darkened apartment building from underneath the willow tree in the back yard. Orders from Saunderson were orders from the top. No screw-ups.

He had said “I want those goddamned shares now. Do whatever’s necessary to find them—and when you’ve got them, kill her.”

Stamping his feet in the cold, Brackley took a last pull on his flask, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He knew he was on the bottom rung; his feral instincts made him wary.

The back porch light cast shadows across the lawn. Brackley tried to stay in the dark as he trudged to the front of the building. He could see her, asleep in her chair, through the bay window. He opened the outer door to the foyer.

It was so dark and cramped inside, that he stumbled. Something soft and feathery whisked his ankle. Jumping back, he kicked out. A soft, snarling body of fur lay at his feet. He felt along the wall in search of a light switch. When he switched it on, the foyer was illuminated in a ghastly, pale yellow light.

“Jesus Christ,” he swore under his breath. A rat-like ball of fur lay curled about his feet. Recoiling in horror, he smashed his skull against a coat hook. Cursing again, he poked at the creature with his foot. At first, the stunned animal stirred only slightly. Then, shakily, it brought itself to all fours and hissed. A goddamned cat! With a bark of laughter, Brackley pounced on the animal, opened the door, and flung it out onto the lawn.

Norma was snoozing in her armchair, still waiting for the taxi driver to take her to Madrid Towers. She was so tired that she wished to slip away forever into the soft, seductive twilight, but there was still too much work to be done. She had to secure the shares, just as Arthur had said.

Her eyes flew open at the sound of frenzied banging. They can’t be back upstairs so soon. Why won’t they leave me alone? I’ll be joining them soon enough. She cocked her head to one side until she realized that the banging was from the front door.

“Just a minute!” She shuffled across the living room, stopping to smooth a bed sheet covering the chesterfield. “I’m coming! Don’t bang so.” Reaching the door, she stopped and listened intently.

“Who is it?” she demanded.

Another crash rattled the door.

“Please!” she shrieked. “Who is it?”

“I’m from Mr. Jenkins office,” boomed the voice on the other side of the door.

Thank heavens! The taxi driver, she thought.

Norma twisted the wires from the latch and reached up to remove the chain. Outside, Brackley, his patience wearing thin, whistled tunelessly through his teeth. After several minutes, the door creaked open. Suspicious eyes peered out.

“Are you here to take me to the home?” Norma asked.

“Sure, lady, but Mr. Jenkins sent me for the shares. I gotta take them back with me.”

“What shares?” Norma asked.

“The Elixicorp shares, lady.” Ross Brackley tossed his coat on the chesterfield and cracked his knuckles.

She backed away from the immense man. Harry knew she didn’t have the shares, and he would never have sent the beast now standing before her.

Norma gathered up her strength. “Young man! What is your name?”