Header: Johnny Montague frees Molly Fusil. Detail from Murder in Havana by George Harmon Coxe, Dell publishers, Kate’s Library. Gag added.

Footer: Mia, gun in hand, searches for Melody in the depths of the chateau. Detail from the detective magazine Federal Agent, July 1937, Cervantes’ site.

 

 

 

 

‘Detective Sergeant Broderick Clifford and Dr Miles deVille have entered the perimeter. They are in communication silence ... Just a moment ... Word’s come through from KAS surveillance that the two guards in the grounds have been taken out.’

‘Good work, Sergeant Jenn. Keep us posted.’

‘Yes sir, Mr Devereau sir!’

Clive Devereau turned to his aide. ‘Do you think we should send in the troops, Oscar?"

‘Yes, otherwise our two operatives will be on their own. And at the latest count all five gang members are present, not including the woman and the guards inside the building. There were two in the last vehicle that passed through the gates immediately before the guards were disposed of. The woman Fusil appears to be in charge and Murgatroyd hasn’t appeared. We can’t afford to delay. The women’s lives depend on quick action.’

‘I agree. In this instance our DORFIS operatives are more important than Murgatroyd. We can always entrap him another time and place. Give the word to the platoon commander to move in.’

*

The big man appeared to emerge from the ground at the guard’s feet and was on him in an instant. Before the fellow could draw the razor sharp wakizashi, Brod seized him by the front of his costume and the arm that was about to raise the short sword and executed a perfect tai-otoshi. The guard’s rudimentary training in ninja techniques had not prepared him for the devastating body drop. He was lucky that he hit a patch of waterlogged greensward. The unfortunate minion became embedded in the spongy mass. Leaving the unconscious guard, Brod surged towards the nearest window like a grizzly.

The second black clad guard fared no better. As he stepped out of the shadows to bar the way to the gazebo, Miles scarcely broke his stride. A lightning-fast atemi to the chest sent the fellow wheezing to the ground. When he raised his head Miles had disappeared, as though the ground had swallowed him.

*

Melody rolled from one side to the other in muffled frustration. The novelty of being tied with soft cotton ropes had worn off quickly, and lying bound and gagged for so long was getting to her. The small ceiling lamp flickered every minute and the young woman dreaded the darkness that would come when the element finally burnt out. The wad of cloth in her mouth was sodden with drool and parts of the bandage clung wetly around her face, sealing the corners of her mouth and making the covering impossible to slip over her chin. Her jaws ached and the sides of her mouth were chafed and itchy. Melody wondered how Mia was taking it. Her friend must be suffering the same torments as herself.

Faint sounds muffled by the thick stone walls of Melody’s cell reached her ears and she lifted her head and listened in astonishment. Hope began to stir in her breast. What she heard was distant shouting and what might have been automatic weapons fire. But she could not be sure. Then the locks at her prison door rattled, and instead of the familiar click as the key was inserted there came a reverberating crash as the lock was broken apart. The door swung crazily open to thud sickeningly against the wall and a squat form stood on the threshold, silhouetted momentarily against the brighter light in the corridor. With astonishing speed the man stepped through and came to a crouch at Melody’s side.

Melody looked up into the round grizzled face of a veteran clad in military fatigues. An automatic assault rifle hung across his shoulders and in one hand he held the small sledge-hammer with which he had just smashed the lock. He had a broad button nose and narrow eyes below thick bushy eyebrows. Shoulder-length hair spilled from beneath the grey furry beret he wore. The badge emblazoned on it appeared to represent two crossed gum leaves and on the shoulder of his tunic were the three stripes of a sergeant. The man spoke in growling accents.

‘G’day luv. We’ll soon ave you outa those ropes. ‘I’ll take that gag off yer first so’s yer c’n breathe more easy.’

With those words he unsheathed a huge broad-bladed knife and with surprising dexterity inserted the blade beneath the bandage around Melody’s jaws. It fell away from her face with a single movement. Using her tongue Melody pushed the mouth-filling ball of cloth so that it was between her teeth and expelled it with a groan of relief. As the military man - some sort of SWAT team member she guessed - slashed through the ropes that bound her without marking her skin in any way, Melody caught her breath.

‘Th- Thank you. It was unbearable. Wh- Who are you?’

‘Sergeant Monty Behre of the KAS, at your service ma’am.’ The last word was almost a shout. He made a gesture that reminded Melody of her bushwalking experiences and what is called the Australian salute.

‘KAS?’

‘Koala Assault Services, ma’am!’ growled the sergeant, saluting again. ‘An you’re an Aussie too ain’tcha?’

Melody nodded, not trusting her voice after the suffocating gag in her mouth. I’ve never heard of them, she thought. But it’s not for me to question. I’m just relieved to be rescued.

Sergeant Behre helped Melody to her feet. Her legs were stiff from having been bound for so long and it took several paces into the corridor before she could walk unaided.

‘Wh- What’s going on?’ she asked.

‘We’ve stormed the ‘ouse as directed, ma’am, and ave secured the front of the building, ma’am. We are presently assaulting the unerground passages, ma’am.’

‘Is this area safe?’ Melody asked anxiously.

‘Yes, ma’am!’

‘Good.’ Melody drew to her full height. She stood about two inches above the sergeant. ‘I have to find my friend,’ she said. ‘When I’ve found her, we’ll come to the front of the house where your people are stationed you say? So please go about your business. I’ll be all right.’

The KAS sergeant paused, but the authority in Melody’s voice and demeanour settled the question. ‘Yes, Ma’am. Be careful, Ma.am.’ He saluted, turned and waddled rapidly down the corridor.

Melody watched the sergeant’s retreating form, and when he had disappeared around a bend in the corridor she turned in the opposite direction. At a run, fearing what she might find, Melody began looked through the peepholes of each door she passed, spaced at long intervals from the cell where she had been a prisoner. The first two cells in that part of the corridor were empty.

Melody turned a corner and saw another door. When she looked into the spy-hole, she caught a movement. Was Mia inside? Impulsively, Melody seized the large handle and pushed it open. It swung inwards, its weight pulling her off balance and propelling her into the small room. She came up short against a man’s chest.

‘Hoo hoo, what have we here?’

Melody looked up in sudden terror and disgust. An angular face leered down at her. She had run straight into Karl’s arms.

*

Tick. Tick. Tick-tick, tick, scranch. The pendulum swung inexorably, dropping a couple of inches lower after several passes over the helpless form that lay beneath the razor-sharp blade. Mia’s weeping had ceased. She no longer attempted to look for Miles’s prostrate body, which was out of sight below the level of the bench where she lay helpless. She hoped only that the blade when it finally reached her would end it all quickly. It was now palpably lower. She strained towards it, hoping that the end would be quick. The only sound in the cellar was the remorseless swish and descent of the blade and Mia’s heavy breathing through the gag that threatened to smother her.

Then there came another sound, a groan that was repeated, reverberating, bouncing from the cellar walls. Mia turned her head from one side to the other but could see nothing through the shadows. She remembered the secret route from the gazebo and wondered whether someone had entered. The only person who knew about the hidden passage, aside from herself and Miles, who had just used it, was Snedley. Mia’s flesh turned cold at the thought. If her tormentor found her he would only stand back and watch, and laugh as she died.

The sound came again. This time it was close. It seemed to be right beside her. Mia turned her gaze towards the doorway and emitted a stifled shriek of mixed fright and unbelief as Miles deVille rose from the floor to his feet.

Miles grimaced as he rubbed his neck tenderly. ‘He damn near finished me that time. But he didn’t, when he could have. I think we have an ally on the other side, Mia darling.’

His lady’s response was a frantic strangled, ‘Grmmphh mmmph.’

Jerking her head and rolling her eyes upwards, Mia tried to indicate the blade swinging above her. Miles stumbled to the side of the wall where the chain securing the apparatus hung. There was a sharp click and Mia watched fascinated as the blade came to a wobbling halt. It was now less than a foot above her torso.

With shaking hands, Miles pulled the bandage from Mia’s face. It came away with difficulty. The cloth had been tied so tightly that it left marks on �her� cheeks. When the leather strap was undone from across her neck, Mia raised her head and expelled the wad of cloth from her mouth with a grimace. She worked her jaw about and took several deep breaths, her mouth so dry that she could scarcely croak out the words, ‘Miles darling. I - I thought you were dead.’

‘No such luck! That fellow Hudson could have snapped my neck like a twig, like I said. But for some reason he didn’t.’

‘Melody said he helped her escape, or at least she thinks he gave her some small comforts when we were suffocating in those hideous bondage hoods of Karl’s. Which reminds me. Karl is coming here, if he’s not arrived already. And where’s Melody? We have to find her at once. God knows what’s being done to her after what that horrible woman did to me! Get me out of these straps.’

Miles relieved Mia from the broad leather restraints and set her on her feet. His hands were now steady and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. Mia felt safe now that she was with him, but he also frightened her and she felt sorry for any of the hoods who might stumble his way.

As she rubbed her wrists where the straps had left their marks, Miles inspected the curved blade that had very nearly been her death, in a mood of professional interest that sent a shiver up her spine.

‘My god,’ Miles exclaimed. ‘Look.’ He pushed the blade from the side making it wobble again.

‘I - I don’t care to. Sometimes you’re so damn cold-blooded ...’ said Mia defensively.

‘It’s not that, �Darling. D’you see? This isn’t a steel blade. It’s nothing more than a well disguised sheet of cardboard! You’re the victim of a cruel joke.’

*

Melody made faint croaking sounds as Karl finished tying off the gag’s knot between her teeth. It was a long silk chiffon scarf, a feminine touch in the stone-cold cell that had been Molly Fusil’s temporary home in the chateau. But Karl was unable to find his boss, and the sounds of running feet and a sporadic exchange of small arms fire interspersed with rounds of automatic fire upstairs told him that their minions were probably losing the battle. He looked down at his prisoner and licked his lips. This one won’t get away again, not the way he’d taped her to that chair. And when he finds her friend, that sexy Mia Chantal ... His thoughts trailed off in directions the reader is advised best not to follow.

Forgetting for the moment to be afraid, Melody glared up at Karl. She was furious with herself for the lapse in caution that had led her to walk into such an easy trap. The sounds of violent activity going on upstairs suggested that the advantage was swinging to their cause against the gang. And here she was trussed and helpless again and probably about to become a pawn in hostage negotiations. Her wrists were taped to the armrests of a heavy straight-backed chair. Her ankles were taped separately to the chair’s front legs, making her vulnerable and very embarrassed because of the short skirt she wore, part of the elegant business suit per favor Molly the Gun. It was worse because Karl �had raked�his fingers up the calf of one leg and stroked her thighs suggestively before finishing the job of wrapping her body to the chair with the tape. Held at the waist and with more windings above and below her bosom, Melody was not going anywhere fast at the moment. Where were the KAS when they were needed? The corridors and cells were obviously not as secure as their sergeant had thought.

Karl was pondering whether to tape up Melody’s face as well, to make the cloth gag impossible to eject, when the door swung open behind him. Karl turned.

‘Nuh ahh, it’s you!’ It was Johnny Montague.

‘Yeah. Karl, whata ya doin? This ain’t no time t’play with that woman. Can’t you hear that ruckus up the top? Hudson and I had barely arrived to be briefed by one of Murgatroyd’s goons when those troops started comin outa the trees.’

‘Duh’uh.’

‘And Molly’s lookin for yer. Hudson’s with her, I think.

‘I’se better find her.’

‘Yeah you do that. As soon as we’ve found the boss we can get her outa this place, and take the women with us as collateral.’

‘What’ll you do?’

‘No need the two of us wandering all over. You know this place better than me, so go an find Molly. I’ll wait here.’

‘You look after that there woman, mind,’ said Karl as he moved towards the door.

‘I’ll look after her sure enough, don’t you worry about that. Now get goin!’

Karl exited. When the door had closed, Johnny Montague turned towards Melody and without expression produced a pocket knife which he opened to reveal a cruel curved blade. Melody shrank back into the chair, her heart beating fast.

*

‘If I ever get my hands on that woman ...!’ Mia was standing unsteadily, rubbing her wrists and looking with disgust at the curved sheet of cardboard with its silver painted edge. Even from close-up, the blade looked very real.

‘You may get your chance,’ said Miles grimly. This is a large rambling place but you and I know it intimately, and she doesn’t.’

‘All right. What do we do now?’

‘We’ll try to find the others.’

‘Melody’s somewhere down here. I wonder whether that bitch Molly Fusil is playing another cruel game with her too?’

‘We’d better find out.’ Miles began to move towards the door when he froze to attention. ‘Someone’s coming. Quick Mia, hop onto that bench and pretend you’re still strapped there. Here ...’ Miles picked up a strip of cloth from where it lay on the floor and quickly bound it across Mia’s mouth.

Mia arranged herself on the platform, pulling the leather restraints across her body so that at first glance she would appear to be still strapped down. Miles took up a position to one side of the doorway just in time before it swung open.

Molly Fusil stepped in. She was unaccompanied.

Molly took two paces into the cell, her eyes intent on the rope attached to the chain that operated the pendulum. ‘Seems you’ve had a reprieve. But now it’s time to restart the mechanism. I wonder what went wrong? A faulty ratchet perhaps? We’ll soon have it in motion again.’

As Molly spoke, Miles materialised from behind her and in a single smooth movement seized the Spanish damsel around her body, pinning her arms to her sides. With his other hand he stifled the woman’s attempt to scream. Only a yip of surprise escaped Molly’s lips.

‘We’ve got you now, my beauty,’ Miles hissed. ‘Mia, shut the door and help me with this vixen.’ For Molly was struggling frantically. Miles had to lift her off her feet and even then she attempted to kick back at him. Together Miles and Mia wrestled their captive to the floor. ‘Tear some strips from her petticoat and bind her ankles,’ grated Miles. ‘No, use that piece of rope. Quickly!’

Mia picked up a two-foot length of rope from under the wooden bench where it must have lain for weeks, if not months. It was oily and dirt encrusted and probably belonged to a piece of machinery. With a couple of quick turns, she soon had the rough cord around Molly Fusil’s ankles. She jerked it tight and doubled the knot. Molly’s attempts to kick out at her captors subsided.

Mia brushed Molly’s full skirt out of the way and began to tear strips from the black silk chiffon slip the woman wore beneath it. She passed one strip to Miles who began methodically binding Molly’s wrists together behind her back. While he was doing that, Mia balled up another strip of cloth - it included the lacy edge of the slip - and began to pack it between Molly’s jaws and into her mouth. Molly renewed her struggles and fought the gag all the way, forcing Mia to pinch her nostrils shut and Miles to hold her head as if in a vice.

‘A touch of deja vu, I think,’ said Mia grimly as she worked to subdue Molly.

After folding it over several times to make a broad bandage, and tying a large knot in the middle, Mia handed Miles another strip of the sensuous material. Molly did not cease struggling until the cloth had been tied very tightly over the packing with the knot between her teeth. Miles then took another makeshift silken bandage from Mia and completed a very tight wrapping that covered Molly’s lower face to her chin. The Latin beauty’s cheeks bulged over the gag and her nostrils flared with the greater effort to breathe. She looked up defiantly at her two captors who now stood considering what to do next.

Miles reached down and removed a large white scarf that had been folded neatly and tucked into Molly’s belt. ‘Ah ha! We could have used this to gag the woman instead of tearing her clothing.’ He shrugged. ‘She won’t be needing it now. Spoils of war.’ He offered it to Mia.

Mia took the scarf and transferred it to a small pocket in her skirt. It was of the most exquisite Italian silk she had ever seen, quite out of place on a grubby dungeon floor. Its beauty took her breath away and, not for the first time, she looked at Molly Fusil with grudging admiration. The chic femininity of the Spanish siren struck answering chords in Mia’s psyche. Then she returned quickly to more practical matters.

‘Miles, leave her here. We have to find the others.’

‘Yes. The KAS troops will pick this one up and we can interrogate her back at HQ. There are a lot of questions I have for this woman.’

‘Uh, Miles? KAS?’

‘They’re the paramilitary arm of DORFIS. We brought them onto alien soil at FBI request. They’re a very underground organisation and I’d better tell you more when we’re out of range.’ He nodded towards Molly who was sitting very still, proud and straight, and listening intently to their exchange.

As Miles and Mia walked out, closing the cell door behind them, Mia could not help feeling a little sorry for Molly. She knew only too well what it was like to be tightly bound and gagged and left alone. She remembered how it felt when she and Melody got the drop on the Latina and left her gagged and bound to a chair, and she suspected that below the hard surface there was a softer aspect to Molly.

In the corridor, Mia stopped and took Miles by the arm. ‘Miles, I know what DORFIS is. The Department of Reconnaisance, Field Intelligence and Surveillance. They’re the people you and Broderick Clifford work for. But what’s the KAS?’

‘Koala Assault Services.’

‘Koala - . You must be joking! They’re cute little furry bear-like marsupials. I’ve seen them in zoos, and once on a holiday to Australia. They spend their days sitting in trees and eating gum leaves. And breeding.’

‘Like I said, the KAS is a secret organisation that works for DORFIS. But your first reaction is appropriate. When they’re not called upon to perform duties that are too dangerous for the black, red and green berets to handle, their officers pose as wild life rangers and conduct tourists on guided tours through the parks of Australia. Be thankful they’re here now, and that they’re on our side. They’ll soon mop up Murgatroyd’s minions.’

*

Jasmine Morris was the loneliest and most forgotten prisoner in the fearful chateau. She lay bound to a rusty bed in a cell at the other side of the building, opposite the area where Mia and Melody had been taken. She was unconscious when the guards carried her there but, all the same, they bound her fast to the bed. The minion doing the gagging, however, took pity on the unconscious girl and Jasmine was gagged lightly with the strips of torn sheet.

After about fifteen minutes, Jasmine stirred and groaned. Her eyelids fluttered open. For a moment she stared uncomprehendingly at the blank ceiling above her. Then, with her wits fully restored, there came a renewal of panic and wailing. Jasmine bucked and turned, desperate to get free, but her wrists were tied together above her head to the frame and her ankles were likewise fastened to the foot of the bed. Minutes dragged by that seemed like hours. Jasmine quietened down. She found that she could push the gag out from under the covering cloth and work it away with her jaw so that it hung from her chin. Part of the muffling cloth tied around her head remained between her teeth, and she could not slip it further. But she was not going to choke or suffocate, something she had dreaded throughout the long ordeal of kidnap and travel with Molly the Gun and the other two women captives.

The Hazard woman! Jasmine’s eyes narrowed. She knew what she would do if she had Melody helpless and at her mercy. Her thoughts began to ramble, a result of the continued shocks to her comfort-loving young body. Jasmine became dimly aware of noises from above, from somewhere else in the house. Was that a gunshot? And another? And what was that crackling sound, the staccato chatter of a machine-gun? Jasmine’s practical experience did not extend beyond the recognition of small-arms fire from the exaggerated sounds heard on television.

There came a sudden rattling at the door. It flew open. Jasmine raised her head, her baby-blue eyes wide with terror. Cuthbert Brentford sprinted into the room with a speed that belied his portly frame. Behind him Rupert Orly followed more decorously, carefully closing the door and stationing himself by it.

Brentford came to Jasmine’s side and tenderly pulled the gag down from the girl’s mouth. ‘We had almost given up on you m’dear,’ he panted. ‘One whole wing of the chateau is out of bounds at present.’

‘We’re isolated here by troops of some kind,’ volunteered Orly from the door.

‘But we might be able to make a judicious exit if we find the right sort of window. There my dear, feel better?’ Brentford was solicitously massaging Jasmine’s hands as he spoke.

‘Y- Yes. I’m so glad you found me. It -It’s horrible. My flesh crawls all the time with those ropes on me.’

‘My dear, you must cope with your merinthophobia as best you can if you’re going to flirt with the underworld. I’ll give you some lessons. But at the moment it’s imperative we make a speedy and orderly, indeed a seemly, getaway. Is the coast clear, Orly old chum?’

‘Looks like it.’ The sounds above abated and the chateau settled into an unnerving silence.

Jasmine stood at Brentford’s side, her arms wrapped around her body to ward off the chill of the bare stone room. ‘Where’s that Melody Hazard woman?’ she asked suddenly.

‘Don’t know. In the other part of this place, the part that’s out of bounds ...’

‘But we must find her. And take her prisoner.’

‘Now steady on!’

‘But she’s the most important person in this place,’ Jasmine screeched. ‘She knows where the diamond is. She has the diamond!’

*

The ceiling lamp continued to flicker fitfully above the new prisoner who anxiously watched its incipient demise. The thin cloth that bound Molly Fusil’s wrists was painful. It was cutting circulation. And the gag in her mouth could not be shifted. More than her pride was at stake. She was watching their seaboard organisation unravel minute by minute as the grey garbed troops in their furry berets stormed the chateau. She knew their guards were fighting a losing battle in and out of the corridors.

It had been her intention to taunt Mia Chantal one more time, then to spirit her away to their last bastion and use her as bait to get that diamond for Murgatroyd. ‘Murg’ she called him, thinking of the Spanish word for tradesman. He was a man who traded in beautiful women. The more she saw him, the less impressed she was by the fat parasite. The rattle of the door handle jerked her mind away from those depressing thoughts.

The door opened and the figure of a man stepped in. It was Karl.

‘D’uh urg. Boss?’

I’d prefer him to be a little more articulate, Molly thought irritably. Get me out of this, you drooling fool! But the only sounds that escaped through her gag were meaningless strangled grunts.

Karl finally understood the situation. He stepped forward and went down on one knee, his hands reaching for the knots at the back of Molly’s neck.

‘Leave the woman where she is, Karl!’ The voice issued from the shadows at the dark end of the cellar.

Karl froze and squinted towards the dark from which the voice came. A large figure emerged and came to stand above the squatting man and the bound woman.

‘Oog. Boss?’ Karl repeated. But this time he was addressing the large man. Karl rose and stood to attention.

‘Who else? You’re not the only one who knows about the passage from the front grounds.’

Think of the devil, said Molly to herself, if it isn’t Murg! She mmphed energetically and shook her head from side to side, eager to be relieved of her gag.

Murgatroyd took several paces more until he was towering in front of Molly. ‘Well Ms Fusil, I can’t say that I am at all pleased with this turn of events. You understand that we will have to relocate our entire operation because of your bungling. You are the head of this sector. And you know the price of failure. Doesn’t she, Karl?’

‘D’uh, sure boss.’

‘A one-way sea voyage in a trunk. Not exactly a champagne and caviar holiday for you my lovely.’

Molly glugged into the cloth impeding her mouth, more frantic than ever to speak.

Sir Herbert Murgatroyd continued. ‘Such a pity Ms Fusil has to remain gagged. She has such a beautiful mouth. But it is a honeyed mouth. If she is allowed to speak, she will seduce her guards. You understand, Karl? She is no longer your superior; she is your prisoner. I expect you to make her as secure as any of the other women who pass through your hands.’

‘Hooo! Yeah boss!’

This ape switches sides easily, thought Molly in disgust. She ceased her attempts to speak and sat straight and defiant at the feet of the two men.

‘We will leave the woman here temporarily,’ said Murgatroyd. ‘We must find the others and make our escape through the way I have just come. I would have left you to your devices, but the roads are closed at present.’

‘I have a auto hidden at the cliff top,’ volunteered Karl. ‘If we can get to it, there are back roads I know to get us outa here.’

‘Excellent suggestion. I shall continue to keep you in my service, for the moment. And where, might I ask, are the three women who were captured?’

‘Dunno boss. It was the Chantal woman escaped from here. An I left Johnny guard Melody Hazard.’

‘Let us pay a visit to Ms Hazard. Come.’ Murgatroyd lumbered out of the door into the corridor with Karl following in his steps.

Alone again, Molly Fusil began struggling desperately to free her wrists. But she had no more success than in her earlier attempts. She slumped back against the stone wall, only to pull away sharply from its penetrating cold. She looked about her searchingly. Struggling would make the bonds tighter and tear her wrists. But she might be able to fray the cloth against something. She was only bound hand and foot. Her arms were not trussed into the small of her back and she was not hogtied, or in a ball-tie. She knew one of those alternatives was a very real likelihood when they returned for her. But for now, with hard effort, she could move about the cell.

Molly was an intelligent woman and she recognised the irony of her new role as a bound captive. Destinos. Molly scarcely admitted to herself that she was frightened. She knew well enough what it was like to be bound, even for long periods. But on all other occasions she had been able to free herself in some way and gain the upper hand over her enemies. Murgatroyd was right. Her greatest asset was her dulcet voice. More than once she had put her captors off guard. But to do that now she had to free her jaws, and the gag was there to stay, heavy on her tongue, drying out her mouth, chafing her lips and cheeks. She growled softly in her throat, a young lioness aware of stronger predators around her. But something very like a whimper also filtered through the cloth bound tightly around her face. The sound dissipated into the claustrophobic darkness of the corners that surrounded her.

*

Sweat broke out on Melody Hazard’s forehead as Johnny Montague approached, the wicked knife blade in his fingers. The helpless woman hardly dared hope that Johnny, who had already been a trusted ally, would come to her rescue again, not with the fury of the gun battle above them and the consequent imperative for the gang members to make their escape. Would this man slit her throat in the confusion so that she would be out of the way for good?

Johnny slit the tape at Melody’s wrists.

Their eyes met as he hunkered down and cut away the wrappings around Melody’s ankles. He shook his head in mock sorrow and muttered, ‘You have a way of getting yourself all tied up. Ever thought of going into a different business?’ Melody, who realised how foolish was her sudden fear and that her reaction was due to the beginnings of hysteria, could only nod ashamedly. She raised her hands and attempted to unfasten the gag’s knot at the back of her neck, but her fingers would not work. Johnny finished the job for her and she took in a welcome gulp of air.

‘Oh God, for a crazy moment I thought you were going to hurt me!’

‘What a thing to say! I thought the diamond was the only important issue, Melody Hazard, but your safety and that of your friend have their place in my mind too. Now, get to your feet. Can you walk?’ Melody nodded at the same time as she stumbled and almost fell. Johnny caught her under an elbow and steadied her. ‘We have to go our separate ways,’ he continued. ‘Remember, we’re on opposite sides.’

‘Th- That’s a little hard to figure out,’ Melody stammered.

‘Yeah? Well save it for a fireside chat with your friends. You’ve gotta get out that way.’ The man indicated the part of the corridor that led to the upper levels of the house. ‘Karl went the other way, and you sure as hell don’t want to meet up with him again. Now get! And don’t look back.’

Melody stumbled into a run. Johnny Montague watched the retreating form of the beautiful woman in bemused admiration until she disappeared around a corner, then he turned and walked purposefully into the bowels of the chateau on his mission to find Molly Fusil, Hudson and the others and get the hell out of there.

*

When Melody reached the head of the stairs she found Sergeant Behr of the KAS on point duty with two other personnel. The sergeant personally escorted her to the front visitor’s room where she and Mia had been held by Molly Fusil on their arrival. Brod, his face smeared with mud and his knuckles scraped and encrusted with dried blood, took her into his arms.

‘God Melody, I’m glad you’re safe.’

‘You arrived in the nick of time, Brod. I think the sound of shooting put the wind up them. I was bound and gagged in one of the cells, but the sergeant found me and freed me.’ She did not add that she had been captured subsequently by Karl and freed again by Johnny Montague. Melody felt too embarrassed to mention it.

‘Where are the others?’

‘I don’t know. We were taken to different places. Probably in one of the cells in the north wing.’

‘That sector ‘asn’t been secured fully yet, Sir, Ma’am,’ interposed Sergeant Behr. ‘A skirmishing group is infiltrating it at this very moment. Sir!’ He gave the characteristic salute.

‘There’s no time to be lost,’ cried Brod. ‘Come on Melody. We have to find Mia and that other woman.’

Accompanied by Sergeant Behr and two of the KAS commandos, Brod and Melody re-entered the doorway to the cellars.

*

Molly Fusil grunted in frustration. Though she was only bound hand and foot, it was hard going to inch her way across the cellar floor. Her goal was the mechanical arrangement by which she had hooked up the ersatz pendulum blade. The metallic frame that was set in the wall might be rusted enough to provide a surface against which she could saw her wrist bonds. But the mouth-filling gag made breathing difficult and she had to stop often to catch her breath, inhaling through her nose. In spite of the cold, beads of sweat stood out on her forehead and a salty trickle ran down one cheek to be absorbed by the cloth of the bandage that sealed her face.

She had progressed only a few feet across the dirty floor when the sound of the door handle being turned made her blood run cold. Karl was back. Molly knew only too well what that meant. The door opened and the silhouette of a man was framed momentarily against the brighter light of the corridor. He was not as tall as Karl. Maybe it was one of the black-clad minions come to fetch her. The man closed the door and stepped into the wan light of the cell. It was Johnny Montague.

Johnny gave a soft whistle as his eyes took in the picture of the lovely dark eyed woman. Molly’s glossy black hair had become dishevelled in her struggles, the skirt around her knees begrimed with the dust of the cellar floor, and her low cut blouse had slipped from her left shoulder almost to reveal one ripe breast. She looked pleadingly into Johnny’s eyes. Another henchman, not as vicious as Karl perhaps, but she expected no help from this quarter. Molly was in for a surprise.

Johnny Montague placed the lamp on the floor and approached the bound woman. He knelt behind her and for a moment Molly Fusil thought he was tightening her wrist bonds. She was astonished when her hands came free instead. Johnny concentrated on the knots that held the silky cloth tight around Molly’s jaws while the woman wearily rubbed her wrists and forearms in an attempt to restore circulation. When the bandage came off, Johnny Montague gingerly extracted the gag wadded in her mouth and tossed it to one side. Molly knew she could not speak immediately and she did not even try. She looked her gratitude at Johnny, who took over her task and vigorously brought her hands back to life. Then he cut Molly’s ankle ties with the same knife he had used to free her wrists.

Molly started to speak but Johnny Montague clapped his hand firmly over her mouth. He stifled the husky sound that was all that came from the woman’s throat. ‘Don’t speak, Molly. I’ll get you outa this but you gotta know I’m not working for you any more, or for that toad Murgatroyd.’

‘Then why ...?’ Molly asked as Johnny slowly removed his hand.

‘It’s dangerous in this place. A woman bound and gagged can’t do anything to help herself. I don’t have nothing against you and I’d prefer you to go free. Who did it anyway, one o’ those commando types runnin’ round the place?’

‘It - It was Karl.’

‘Y’don’t say? The bastard must be havin’ a field day.’

‘Murgatroyd’s with him.’

‘I see. Worn out your usefulness eh?’

‘That’s one way of putting it.’ Molly scrambled to her feet. ‘He blames me for this whole mess.’

‘There’s an element of truth for sure, but not enough for any reasonable boss to turn on you like this. What’s the caper? A one-way trip to foreign climes?’ Molly nodded. ‘Why’d you get yourself mixed up in this business, Molly? I knew you when you had better sense. Rob from the rich, kiddo. Don’t trade in human flesh. That’s my motto.’

They had walked to the door, but Molly stopped and placed her hand on Johnny Montague’s arm. ‘We’d better not go that way.’

‘Yeah. Those troops, and of course Murgatroyd an Karl. But we’ve got no choice.’

‘Yes we have! There’s some other way into this room. Over there.’ Molly indicated the shadows at the far end of the cellar.

‘Yeah? Okay.’ Johnny handed Molly the lantern. ‘Go ahead. I’ve gotta find Hudson.’

‘I sent him to the guardroom when we put Mia Chantal in here.’

‘You put ...? An’ now she’s gone. No wonder Murgatroyd’s mad at you.’

Molly was too embarrassed to tell Johnny Montague that it was Mia and DeVille who had done such a job on her.

‘You go ahead,’ said Johnny. ‘If you’re right, I’ll be able to find the way too.’

They parted company with more than that question between them. Molly was shaken and wanted only to put as much distance as possible between herself and her former boss and his evil henchman Karl. Johnny Montague was forming another plan. Find Melody Hazard, or Jasmine. Get some info about the diamond. But his movements were impelled by the need for self-preservation too.

*

Where had deVille gone? Mia Chantal paced the section of passage where Miles had left her. He had promised to be back within ten minutes, his intention to follow a narrow tunnel between the walls in search of the room where Melody was being held. And he did not want Mia with him. Mia for her part had experienced enough of narrow places and was willing to wait, listening keenly for any sound that might presage the arrival of Karl or one of the evil minions. She did not wish to be captured and bound again.

Softly, Mia walked to the end of the passageway - there were so many in this place - and cautiously looked around the corner. The corridor was empty save for a prostrate form in black that lay a few feet away, one of the more unlucky goons, gunned down by the KAS paramilitary. A large service revolver lay on the floor beside the body.

On an impulse, Mia stepped out and retrieved the weapon. She had handled firearms before though not one as large as this. But she felt safer. If any of them came for her, it would now be on equal terms. With the service revolver in her hand, Mia Chantal retraced her steps to the place where Miles had disappeared into the wall, a determined glint in her eyes.

Chapter Twenty