I couldn’t see Krey now, he was too close to the house, but I saw his visitor-he wasn’t wearing his uniform whites anymore but, even in the badly lit street, I couldn’t mistake him-Pope, the rabbit killer. He seemed not to notice the car horn; he stood behind the Volvo, lifted his arm and levelled a pistol at Krey’s back.
I whipped up the blind and smashed the window. I yelled something and brought my gun out. Pope swore and fired. The bullet whanged into the door. I stuck my head out trying to get a better look and saw Krey crouched behind a bush near the front door. Pope’s attention was divided between his target and me.
‘Pope!’ I pointed the. 38 at him. ‘Drop the gun.’
Pope hesitated. There were two sharp reports; the windscreen of the Volvo shattered and Pope screamed and reeled back. His gun flew in the air and he collapsed in a heap. Krey remained in a crouch; he held Greenway’s short-barrelled Nomad, still pointing it at the car.
‘Dr Krey, put the gun down.’ It’s hard to achieve much authority speaking through a broken window and Krey ignored me. I moved across the room, through the passage and opened the front door. He was crouched four or five metres away now; he’d jumped like a rabbit towards the corner of the garage. His eyes were wide and staring; he saw me step from the house and he raised the gun.
‘Don’t shoot,’ I said. ‘No more shooting.’
Greenway appeared beside the car. ‘He’s got my gun.’ He looked down. ‘This man’s dead, I think.’
Krey moaned and moved the gun.
‘Doctor, stay calm. I’m a witness. Self defence.’
Krey raised the gun and rested it with the muzzle on his right temple.
‘No, Krey. Don’t!’
He stood stiffly and moved into the shadows, just inside the garage. The shots had brought people to their doors and gates. Noise was building in the street. Someone ran across the road and bent over Pope.
‘Greenway,’ I said. “Try to keep those people back. Tell someone to call the police.’ I tried to keep my voice low and unalarming but I could hear Krey moving, shuffling back further into the darkness. ‘I’m going to try to talk to him.’
‘Don’t come in!’ The voice was sharp and clear.
‘I won’t, doctor, don’t worry. There’ll be some people to help here soon.’
‘I’m beyond help, Hardy.’
‘That’s not true. Tell me about it. You hired Greenway, did you?’
He laughed softly. ‘You’ve got a pretty good therapist’s voice, Hardy, but it won’t do any good. Yes, I hired him. I knew something rotten was going on at Southwood.’
‘Operating on drug abuse patients?’
‘Yes. Smith-trying to make a name for himself, going after American research grants. Barbaric!’
‘Easy. Why didn’t you make a report, go through the proper channels?’
He didn’t reply and I edged forward to the corner of the garage. ‘I can hear you,’ he snapped. ‘Stay there! No one would believe me. I’ve got a record of… instability.’
‘What about Greenway?’
‘It wasn’t a very clever thing to do. I hired him to cause trouble. I thought Smith might make some sort of mistake.’
‘You were acting when you and Smith interviewed me? After Pope had knocked me out.’
‘Acting? Yes, yes.’
He sounded edgy as hell; I had to keep pushing him but it was hard to know how hard to push. ‘Annie Parker,’ I said softly. ‘You helped her get out of Southwood.’
‘I’m sorry about the girl. I lost track of her after she left the hospital. Then I followed you home and she turned up. I didn’t mean to hurt her. The morphine was too pure or… I don’t know. Something went wrong.’
‘What did she tell you?’
‘The patients are dead.’
‘Did she tell you that?’
‘She brought me to see it!’ His voice rose and shook. ‘They were guinea pigs! That thug Pope picked them up and brought them in like Jews to Belsen. They’re dead. I know it.’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ I heard cars in the street but thankfully no sirens. People were moving around and some of the voices carried to me. I hoped they didn’t reach Krey. I could feel waves of fear and despair coming from him through the darkness. ‘So you got the photographs back from Greenway and resigned your post. Look, it’s not so bad. You can get clear of this. The girl thought well of you; I’ve got her diary…”
‘Don’t tell me that. I killed her.’
‘Come out. Let’s talk properly.’
‘You still don’t see it, do you?’
‘See what?’
‘They’ll blame me. It’ll come out and they’ll blame me.’
‘How can they? You had nothing to do with it.’
‘They’ve got lawyers. They can do anything. That’s why I was going to kill him.’ The voice was soft, barely audible.
‘Kill who?’
‘Smith. I took a taxi. I went… to the hospital. No, I stopped the taxi and came back. I’m confused.’
‘Yes, you are, Dr Krey. Please put the gun down and come out. It’ll be all right.’
‘No. Stay back. That was Pope, wasn’t it? I see it now. Smith sent him to kill me.’
‘Perhaps he did. That’s in your favour.’ There was movement behind me; I looked and saw two uniformed policemen approaching with their weapons drawn. I waved them back. ‘There’ll be an enquiry. Smith is in trouble.’
‘Enquiry, Oh God, no. No, not another enquiry. I couldn’t stand that.’
‘Doctor…!’
The shot from the Browning was loud and sharp like ten stockwhips cracking at once. I bent low and moved into the garage. The torch beam swept across the oil-stained concrete slab and stopped on Krey’s face. He was on his back, eyes open; his head had fallen to the right a little so no wound was visible but the eyes were still and sightless.