By way of reply the robed arm lifted and a finger
pointed to the high-up window. Elsa forced back her head
to look. Lightning flashed, silhouetting a line of irregular
stones that loomed like furtive, curious trolls. Tombstones,
of course. Then she realised that this chamber had been
constructed beneath the level of a graveyard.
‘My annexe is almost ready for you now,’ the
hooded thing said, still pointing, having to speak more
loudly as the wind outside raged. ‘And soon there will be
two masks in the dining room. An even greater talking
point for my guests.’
Elsa swung her head first to the left and then to
the right, silently beseeching Denis Proctor and Roland
Sadler to intervene. She saw only enmity looking back.
The hooded thing had vanished behind her but she
heard it poking about in the log fire.
‘What’s the fucking maniac doing?’ she demanded
of Denis. He didn’t answer.
She turned the other way. ‘Well — what’s he
doing?’ Roland didn’t answer, either. Simply smiled,
moved out of her sight.
Then she felt hands on her buttocks, parting them
so she thought they’d split even more than nature
intended, and she heard a shuffling on the stone floor as
the hooded thing returned.
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