Carson put his hands on his knees and drew in deep gulps of air. He glanced across the room and Steve brought up the revolver as the first police sirens broke the quiet of the night.
“You should have killed me before,” said Carson.
“And you should have killed me.”
“You can take a punch, I’ll give you that.” He smiled, rubbed his chin. “And give one.” He straightened up. “I underestimated you, but I won’t do that again.”
“You may not get the chance.
“So, what do we do now?”
“We go back to Knills’ house.” He motioned to the wreck of a human being sprawled out on the carpet. “So, he was your lover’s husband?”
Carson shrugged. “Ellen wasn’t my lover, she was nothing more than a plaything.” He grinned and stood up straight. “The old man will tell you the whole story when we get back ther
