Stone's Fall

No reply. Drennan started moving again, his feet on the stone floor making no noise at all, and I became preoccupied with the loud clatter of my boots as I followed. Drennan seemed to know what he was doing; he walked a few steps, then stopped, his head cocked, to listen. Then he walked a few more. After one longer pause, he turned to me and pointed. We crept quietly up a short stone staircase, into a huge room, which must have been about the same size as the great reception rooms on the floors above. There we came across a terrible sight.

Macintyre was lying on the ground, one arm above his head, blood trickling from a wound in the back of his skull. Not serious, perhaps; there was not much blood, but the blow had been enough to knock him unconscious. Cort was sitting on a rickety wooden chair beside him, a flame in one hand, chin resting on the other. In between was a column of masonry reaching perhaps fifteen feet into the air. And around it were half a dozen packages, with a long string coming out of the side, curled round into neat circles and lying on the floor.

'Cort,' I called. 'What the hell is going on here?'

He turned and looked at me. 'Ah, Stone,' he said in an entirely normal voice. 'About time too. I've been waiting for you.'

'What are you doing?'

He said nothing.

'What happened to Macintyre?'

'He tried to take over. Said I didn't know what I was doing. I've had enough of his patronising attitudes.'

'Will you come outside? I think we should have a talk.'

'I've nothing to say to you, Stone. I never want to talk to you again. I know what's been going on. Louise told me. How could you? How could you do that to such a sweet, kind woman?'

'Do what?'

'I know everything. You thought she'd be too ashamed to tell me. And she was, almost; she was in tears, crying her eyes out as she told me what you'd done to her.'

'What are you talking about?'

'She showed me the bruises, the marks of the rope. Everything. Told me what you'd done to her. I should kill you for it. You're a monster. A beast even to think of doing something like that to a woman . . .'

'She's been telling you lies . . .'

'She said you would say that. But she told me about you, Stone. How you attacked her, raped her. The poor defenceless, sweet woman! And it's all my fault! If only I hadn't brought her here, been able to give her the sort of life she wanted. But it will be all right. I'll look after her now. I love her so much. From the moment I saw her, I loved her. I must look after her.'

'Cort, don't be absurd,' I said. 'This is nonsense. She told me the same things about you. She's a liar, Cort. She says these things.'

'Oh, Mr Drennan!' Cort said, frighteningly conversational again. Drennan had been moving softly around the column as I talked. 'Please stand where I can see you. Otherwise I will put this match into the gunpowder here. It will only take a moment to ignite it. Would you be so kind as to stand next to Mr Stone?'

Drennan did as he was told.

'Listen, Cort,' I said urgently and as calmly as I could manage. 'It's not true, do you understand? It's not true. She does that to herself. I know she does. I've got proof, back at my rooms. Do you want to see it? No one has been beating her, whipping her, anything. She's been saying things like that for years. It's all invented.'

'Who would invent a thing like that?' he snarled, reverting to his furious, demented state in an instant. 'Are you saying my wife is a liar? Haven't you done enough already?'

'Look at me.'

He did, suddenly, but only briefly, obedient. His eyes were glassy, wide open. And dark, as they had been on the night of the Marchesa's séance.

'Cort, you've taken opium.'

'Of course I haven't.'

'She gives it to you. What did she give you to drink or eat?'

'You're lying. I can always tell when someone is lying. He was lying too,' he said, gesturing at the still immobile Macintyre. 'He said he was only trying to help. "Only trying to help. Only trying to help,"' he said in a high-pitched childish mimicry which bore no resemblance at all to the way Macintyre spoke.

'So you hit him.'

He nodded.

'And these explosives,' I continued, trying to keep his mind focused on the conversation, 'who set those up?'

'Macintyre did. He brought them over a few days ago. Once they're prepared, the rest is quite straightforward; I just added the rest of the boxes, the ones he didn't use. I don't need help. I can do this job on my own. Wait and see.'

'But Cort, you've used all of it. Far too much,' Drennan said in alarm. 'Listen, I know about explosives. There's enough there to blow up half of Venice.'

'No, no. Just enough to bring down that column. Look, I'll show you.'

His face cleared, and he smiled. And he leaned forward and lit the fuse, which began sputtering.

'Macintyre told me the fuse would last for about ninety seconds. Don't come any closer, mind. I can still set off the whole thing. I'll stay here to make sure it doesn't go out. Don't worry. I'll be quite safe. Macintyre will help.'