Authors: Graham Masterton
âI'm sorry, Drew. But what can I do about it now?'
Slyman was silent for a long, long time. Then he said, âDo you know something? I believe you. You always were a moral man, weren't you, a man of your word? You never bent, you never gave in. I admired you for it and then I hated you for it because I could never aspire to be as moral as you.
âYou never compromised, did you? Not once.'
He stuffed his bandaged hand into his raincoat pocket and produced a Colt .45 automatic, took off the safety, and cocked it.
âNoâ!' said Conor, shielding Lacey with his arm. âCome on, Drew, we can work something out. Some way of helping you.'
âI don't think so,' said Slyman. âThere comes a time when revenge is just about the only answer.'
He lifted the pistol and pointed it directly at
Conor's chest. For a long moment, his arm was unwavering. Nobody spoke.
âI don't know whether God will ever forgive me for this,' said Slyman. At that instant the doorbell rang.
âYou expecting somebody?' asked Slyman.
âNo,' said Lacey. But Conor said, âYes.'
âWhat is it, no or yes?'
âIt's yes,' said Conor. âI arranged for somebody to meet me here.'
âGo on, then, answer it.'
Conor went to the door with Slyman close behind him. He tried to turn around once, but Slyman prodded him in the shoulder-blade with the muzzle of his gun. âJust answer it, will you?'
He opened the door and it was Magda.
âConor?' she said, attempting a smile.
âYou brought it?' he asked her.
âYes, I brought it. Can I come in?'
âIt's kind of inconvenient right now.'
She stared at him warily with those pitch-black eyes. He stared back at her. He didn't say a word, but he tried to communicate with his mind that something was badly wrong.
âCan't I come in?' she said. âI really need to use your bathroom.'
âMagda, I'm sorry, but it really isn'tâ'
âCome on, now, Conor, you're being ridiculous.'
She pushed past him and immediately confronted Drew Slyman. âMy God,' she said. âWhat's happening here?'
Slyman prodded Conor away from the door and closed it. âA little private party,' he said. âA shooting party, as a matter of fact, courtesy of Drew
Slyman, official avenger of disloyalty and injustice.'
âWhat?' asked Magda, in alarm.
âI'm just settling a couple of accounts with Captain O'Neil here. Pity you insisted on coming in. Anybody who comes in ⦠well, I can't let them out alive, can I? Can't have witnesses. I'm not that hard to identify, after all.'
Magda said, âYou must be that officer who was caught in the fire.'
âGive the lady a cigar. Now, sit down, will you, and keep your mouth shut.'
âYou must be feeling such pain.'
âPain? Let me tell you something, until you've been burned alive, you don't know the meaning of the word pain. Now, do what I tell you and sit down. This won't take long.'
âI have a wonderful cure for pain.'
âWhat? What the hell are you talking about?'
âJust what I said. I have a wonderful cure for pain. It's simple and it's quick, and you will never feel pain again, ever.'
Slyman hesitated, and stared at her with his bloodshot eyes. âSo what is it, this cure?'
âDo you want your skin to feel cool again?'
âOf course I do.'
âDo you want your skin to feel supple again â to wriggle your fingers â to move your toes?'
âYes,' Slyman nodded.
âDo you want to sleep soundly at night, with no burning sensation to wake you up?'
Slyman nodded again.
Magda went on and on, one repetitive question after another. Her voice was so hypnotic that even
Conor found himself shaking his head to keep his concentration, and Lacey's eyelids were drooping.
âYou're ready for your cure now, aren't you?' said Magda. âNod if you're ready.'
Slyman nodded. His shoulders had sagged and his eyes were totally unfocused.
âLift your gun and put it in your mouth. That's right. Right inside, pointing upward.'
âNo!' said Lacey. âYou can't!'
âLacey, there's no other way,' Magda said, quietly. âIf I don't do this, he will kill all of us, and himself as well. He's quite ready to do this. He came in here expecting to die. I'm not asking him to do anything that he doesn't want to do already.'
Slyman stood in the middle of the room with the muzzle of his gun in his mouth. Lacey watched him in horrified fascination, gripping the cushions.
Now Magda's voice was even more soothing. âAll you have to do is pull the trigger, and you won't ever feel pain any more. When I say “goodbye, Drew”, you'll pull the trigger, do you understand that?'
Slyman nodded.
âOh, God,' said Lacey; and Conor braced himself. The longest moment in the world went by.
âGoodbye, Drew.'
There was a deafening bang and Slyman's bandaged head turned into a muslin bag full of crushed strawberries.
Conor tried to grab him as he fell, even though there was no point to it. But Slyman rolled out of his arms and lay on the floor with his arms outspread, as if he were crucified, or flying. Lacey sat on the couch
with her hand clamped over her mouth, shocked into silence.
Magda waited for a moment and then she came and stood close to Conor. She opened her black crocodile purse and took out two envelopes. Conor stood up, and took them.
âThe blue one, that's the affidavit,' said Magda. âIt looks like you're going to need it sooner rather than later, doesn't it?'
Conor tore open the second envelope with hands that were still trembling with shock, and looked inside. It contained a banker's draft for $750,000.
âThat's what we agreed?' asked Magda.
âYes, that's what we agreed.'
She smiled at him. âThe very first time I saw you, Conor O'Neil, I thought you were the kind of man who was looking for something more out of life. Righteousness, it's all very well, isn't it? But I think you've learned that you never get what you want by being righteous.'
She reached out with a long black-painted fingernail and absent-mindedly stroked his shoulder. Lacey saw her and looked anxiously at Conor to see what he would do.
âNow, of course, you can have anything your heart desires, can't you?' said Magda. â
Anything
.'
She left the apartment silently and closed the door behind her. Conor could hear sirens in the distance. He sat down and looked at Lacey but he couldn't find the words to tell her what he was going to do next.
THE END
All of the hypnotic induction techniques described in this book are genuine and most of them are based on transcriptions of real case histories. It is strongly recommended that you do not attempt to duplicate them without professional guidance.
Graham Masterton (born 1946, Edinburgh) is a British horror author. Originally editor of Mayfair and the British edition of Penthouse, Graham Masterton's first novel
The Manitou
was published in 1976 and adapted for the film in 1978.
Further works garnered critical acclaim, including a Special Edgar award by the Mystery Writers of America for
Charnel House
and a Silver Medal by the West Coast Review of Books for
Mirror
. He is also the only non-French winner of the prestigious Prix Julia Verlanger for his novel
Family Portrait
, an imaginative reworking of the Oscar Wilde novel
The Picture of Dorian Gray
.
Masterton's novels often contain visceral sex and horror. In addition to his novels, Masterton has written a number of sex instruction books, including
How to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed
and
Wild Sex for New Lovers
.
Discover books by Graham Masterton published by Bloomsbury Reader at
www.bloomsbury.com/GrahamMasterton
Burial
Corroboree
Feelings of Fear
Holy Terror
This electronic edition published in 2012 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, LondonWC1B 3DP
First published in Great Britain 2004, Severn House Publishers Ltd.
Copyright ©2004 Graham Masterton
All rights reserved
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make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means
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printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the
publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication
may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The moral right of the author is asserted.
eISBN: 9781448210299
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