Chapter 12

After an hour had passed and night had fallen, Dick knew he was hopelessly lost. His loud shouts of "hello" brought no response. He knew he would be safe if he could find the road, so he began walking in a direction that he thought would lead out of the woods. Twice, in the stillness of the night, the sound of dogs came. Once, he stumbled upon a herd of pigs and was forced to climb a tree to get away from an enraged boar. The pig snorted and clawed the ground, and stared up with baleful red eyes. Twice, its yellow tusks gleaming in the moonlight, the animal charged the tree. A persistent bastard, it remained there for almost an hour.

When it finally ambled off, so did Dick!

It was almost eleven before he found the road and began walking. He had walked almost three miles before a black figure came hurtling out of the night at him. He leaped aside and shouted, "You idiot. You almost ran over me." The figure on a bicycle turned around to stare, then wobbled crazily, and crashed into the ditch.

"Now, you see what you've done," the Irish voice complained. "You've wrecked me new bike. And me wife will think I did it because of drink."

Dick, feeling foolish because he had been half-frightened out of his wits, was immediately contrite. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm lost. You seared hell out of me -- coming over the top of the hill that way, without lights. I thought Old Nick had finally caught up with me."

The Irishman rubbed the seat of his pants where he had landed after the crash. He looked at Dick. "You've a right to be worried about the Devil on this road. He's been seen many the time by those who were sober." He shuddered, then bent down to pick up his wheel. "It looks in fair shape. Perhaps no harm's been done at that. Where are ye bound this time of night?"

"I'm lost. I went hunting... got separated from my party. I'm staying at Castle Fleur."

The Irishman tensed. "Will then, I guess you have no need to fear the Devil. Good night, sir."

Dick was puzzled by the man's attitude, but he let it pass. "Can you tell me how to get back?"

The Irishman jerked his head in the direction Dick was headed. "Three miles up the road and turn to the right." He hesitated, then said in a more friendly manner, "And good luck to ye. A friend of the owner's?"

"No... merely a guest. Why?"

The man took a deep breath and drew himself up; when he exhaled, it was obvious that he had been drinking. "You look a bright lad. Are you honeymooning?"

"Yes."

"Then take my advice and leave. Strange things happen in that wicked place. People complain of strange dreams in which the Devil takes part. Only this spring a new bride of only four days leaped to her death from the towers. And none of the local girls will work there. And more than one young couple has come together and departed separately... or much earlier than planned." He threw a leg over the bike's seat. "One thing I know, I'd never leave my bride there... alone." He rode quickly off into the darkness.

Dick stared after him. What a lot of nonsense, he thought. "Strange things", "suicides", and "strange dreams", typical superstitious clap-trap, from an Irishman who has had too much to drink.

He had taken half a dozen paces before he stopped and said aloud, "Strange dreams?" He abruptly recalled the dreams about Nora before he finally found himself in the sack with her. Come to think of it, Sue had been acting oddly all day... almost as if she had been worried about something. He quickened his pace and, by the time he reached the turn-off, he was actually jogging.

It was midnight when he arrived; the castle was completely dark except for lights shining from the windows of their suite. "Thank God," he breathed, "Sue's up... and okay."

Rather than awaken the house by going to the front door and ringing the bell, he decided to go around to the servants entrance and enter through the storage area. Once inside, the darkness was oppressive. He fumbled his way through the room, and was relieved to find a door which lead to the dimly lighted hallway. Quickly he made his way up the servants back stairs. When he reached the third floor, he turned toward what he thought was his suite. He was halfway down the corridor, in front of a statue of a knight in armour, when he suddenly discovered he was in the wrong wing. There, in front of him, was the room he had come from last night... when he had mysteriously awakened next to Nora. He spun around, and as he did so, his jacket sleeve caught on the handle of the knight's sword. There was a whispering noise and a door silently opened in the blank wall.

Dick stepped back in surprise and momentary fright, tensed and waiting for someone to come through. When no one appeared, his eyes narrowed and he reached out to push the sword and scabbard. The door closed. He pushed up on the sword; the door swung open again.

Peering around to make sure no one was watching, Dick quickly stepped through the opening. It whispered shut behind him. He spun rapidly, feeling trapped, but as the door closed, the lights came on automatically. Alongside the door was a lever. He touched it; the lights went out, the door opened. He closed the door again and, as the lights came up, he began an inspection.

At one turning, he saw what appeared to be a pane of clear glass. Someone was moving behind the glass. When he got closer, he realized it must be some sort of trick mirror, for it was obvious that the weeping and wildly gesticulating nude Lady Margaret had no idea that he was there. The nude Irish maid was screeching at Lady Margaret. Suddenly, her temper boiling, the girl picked up a broad leather belt and began beating the older woman who rolled and pleaded on the floor. "A couple of lesbians fighting, serves the old bitch right," was his disinterested comment. He walked on until he came to what seemed to be almost a theater lounge with several leather chairs placed strategically in front of another window. There was a tripod standing there also. When Dick looked down through the glass, he almost passed out from the sudden shock. He could see Nora, her hair in curlers, reading a book in bed. Even as he watched, she yawned, closed the book, took a drink of water from the night glass, and turned off the light.

Oh, my God! he thought in sudden dismay. Was anyone up here last night when she and I... ?

Suspicion was piling up on suspicion. It was with a pounding heart and oppressive feeling of apprehension that Dick began moving back toward the secret passage. He made a wrong turn once, opened a door, and found himself in a well-equipped modern darkroom. Several rolls of film hung from a drying line. Quickly he exited, and a moment later was outside in the wing hallway again. He closed the door, then stood there for a moment trying to catch his thoughts. What kind of crazy operation was this anyway? Lesbians. Trick mirrors? Were Morgan and Nora some kind of perverts who got their kicks out of watching other people make love? He thought about what Nora had said concerning his demand for oral sex. Had anyone seen that? "Oh, my God," he repeated, this time with more than desperation in his voice.

"We've got to get out of this loony bin tonight," he said aloud, making an immediate decision. He didn't know what he'd tell Sue, but if necessary he would force her to pack at once.

All the lights were on in their suite when he entered. Sue, looking pale and distraught, was dressed in her travelling clothes. Her bags were packed. She turned to him and her composure disintegrated; she began weeping as soon as she saw him.

"Sue? What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly very frightened and positive that someone had told her about Nora. He started toward her.

"Dick, don't touch me. Don't come near me. I'm leaving you. I would have gone earlier, but there was no way of getting to the railway unless you drove me."

"Sue..." it was a plea, wrenched out of him. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't stay with you."

Dick swallowed. So... she did know about his adulterous behavior with Nora. He could barely speak because of the sudden tightness in his throat. "It was something I did?" the question croaked out of him.

Huge tears boiled up in her eyes; she refused to look at him. Finally she took a deep shuddering breath and answered, "No, my darling. Nothing you've done."

"Then what?"

She shook her head. Dick, suddenly angry at the uncertainty of the whole situation, darted across the room and roughly grabbed her shoulders. "You just can't leave like that. I'm your husband. You're my wife. I demand to know what's wrong," the last was shouted.

Sue closed her eyes, the tears continued to stream down her face. Her shoulders slumped. "All right. You're entitled to know exactly what kind of a person you married. You made a mistake! Go home. Get an annulment. You thought I was decent. I'll show you. I'll show you what you married. It is going to hurt you. If you kill me I won't complain. I deserve it. Your hurt from seeing this will go away in time, but I'll have to live with it festering inside me for the rest of my life."

"What in hell are you talking about?"

Shuddering, Sue reached into her purse and pulled out the manila envelope. She gave it to him.

Dick unfastened the clasp and withdrew the photographs. His eyes widened in horror and disgust as he looked at the first one. He looked sick by the time he had rifled through the stack. His mind was whirling; he didn't believe it. This was all a mad dream... a dream? And knowing beyond a doubt that someone somewhere in the castle had photographs of him too, he mumbled "Oh... God!"

Sue collapsed, weeping. Between sobs she managed to say, "You see... why I can't stay married to you?"

There were things to be done. The first thing he wanted to do was kill Lord Medwell and Tom Morgan. The second? The second... No, there was something far more important than revenge. Sue!

He put his hand gently under the chin and lifted her sweet face. She tried to turn away from him, but he wouldn't let her go. "Darling. Listen to me," he pleaded. "Did you know you were doing this? I mean... did you dream you were doing it?"

Sobbing, she merely nodded. "In my dream I was doing it with you... and it was so... beautiful and right."

"You couldn't help doing this. You were drugged... or, more likely, under hypnotic suggestion or something."

"Dick, those pictures were taken last night. Tonight, though, I wasn't hypnotized. I did everyone of those things all over again tonight. They made me. They said they would give me the photographs if I did it. They said I had to do it or they would show you the pictures. They were going to send copies to my mother, to everyone in my address book..."