The Boarding House Horror

18. Hate Those Things

Lazar Yankov stood the furthest away from Trevor, but in three pounding steps he dove over Ace Carroway toward Trevor's feet. He skidded on his stomach and just missed the caged mouse. His outstretched hands scrabbled at Trevor's ankles.

I made as if to lunge forward, but my right arm stayed immobile, bound in its sling. Mario hulked over Trevor, who rocked forward and back in evident agony.

Lazar twisted and rolled. A speckled brown rope twisted and writhed in his hands. "Tscha!" he spat. Finding his knees, he flicked the rope at the stony hearth. A small splat ended the snake's struggles.

"Hate those things," Mario said. "Is itta dead?"

"Dead." Lazar clutched his own hand. "It bit my hand."

"Tourniquets!" barked Ace. "For both men. Tie them tight to slow the flow of blood."

Her words galvanized Mario and the women. Apparently well-rehearsed after making my sling, Mariam and Daria pulled cut bedsheets and scissors as if from nowhere while Mario wrestled off Trevor's shoe and sock.

The widower writhed on the floor with teeth clenched and eyes squeezed tight. His face began to shine with a sudden sweat.

Lazar Yankov stood stoic. He caught my eye. "Inspector, take the gun from Ace Carroway."

I blinked over at Ace. Indeed, she brandished Raptis's large revolver. A lopsided smile curved her lips. "You're a better shot than I am at the moment, Inspector."

Grudgingly, I took the heavy metal from her with my left hand. "One undeniable thing I've learned about myself during all this is that I'm terrible in an emergency."

I took Lazar's place patrolling near the piano while Mariam bound Lazar's hand. Mario reported, "Trevor, he is bitten low on the calf."

"What does the snake look like?" Ace closed her blind eyes.

Trevor answered, his words a string hoarse gasps. "It's a brown snake from Australia. Or so I was told."

"Yes, makes sense," Ace said. "Fast, aggressive, and deadly. Did you put a scent on Raptis's thigh during dinner?"

The widower shook with a humorless laugh. "No! Raptis ... ouch, so tight ... I knew him well enough to know that Raptis had developed a palsy. From time to time his leg muscles would twitch."

"Vibrations," observed Ace, "that mimic prey."

"Why am I not dead?" wailed Brashear. "I should be dead."

Ace rose from her chair. "Sorry, Brashear. You're not going to die."

"I want to die. Let me die!"

Daria said. "There. He's all bound up."

Ace felt for his body, down low. "Let me at him for a moment. He's getting too excited."

Her fingers found his neck. My eyebrows shot up as she dug her fingers into his throat, around and behind his windpipe. She said, "Don't worry, it's a little carotid artery compression to put him to sleep for a while. It's a poor substitute for a sedative, but we're not exactly a hospital, here."

"Let me die ... Let me ... Lola ..."

Trevor sagged until he was completely limp. Ace said, "He'll be fine. It's a bit much to ask a little snake to kill two people in one day."

"I'm not going to die, either, I take it." Yankov held his bitten hand at arm's length and inspected his tourniquet.

Ace stood in a wide stance and put her hands on her hips. "Listen!" she said.

I expected the crashing of glass or the whiz of bullets, so it took me a while to hear the sound. It hummed steady and omnipresent, a low tone like a bass viol that one felt more than heard.

"What is it?" Lazar asked. "A motor?"

Ace's smile spread and spread until her white teeth shone. "Several motors. The engines of airship Sky Arrow One. Life just got a lot more complicated for any sharpshooters outside."