Night on Terror Island by Philip Caveney Read Free Book Online Page A

holster. We’ll still be able to talk and you’ll have the use of your hands.’ Kip examined the gadget. He could see a little earpiece fixed to one side of it and when he pulled gently on it, it unreeled from the handset on a length of wire. He took a couple of moments to get the thing pressed into his ear. Now Mr Lazarus’s voice seemed to fill his head.
    ‘All done?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Excellent. Now, I want you to move towards the sidewalk and have a look up the street.’
    Kip took a deep breath and did as he was told. He stuck his head carefully out from behind the rear bumper of the car ahead of him. Everything seemed clear. Mr Lazarus urged him on. ‘I want you to move out from there, keeping under cover from the bullets and I want you to grab something for me.’
    ‘Grab what?’ asked Kip in exasperation.
    ‘John Dillinger’s hat.’
    ‘His … his hat? What do you want that for?’
    ‘It’s not for me. A collector friend of mine wants it and he’s willing to pay big money for it.’
    Kip felt a sudden wave of disgust go through him.
    ‘Is that what this is all about?’ he cried. ‘You’re some kind of … thief?’
    There was a brief pause, during which Kip imagined the old man’s outraged expression.
    ‘That’s a very harsh word,’ he said. ‘You must remember, I’m just taking worthless film images. It’s the Enigma that turns them into real objects. And besides, I have to fund myself in some way. I have devoted my life to rescuing cinemas across the world; I deserve a few creature comforts. I can’t pay for those on the money your father pays me, can I?’
    ‘Well …’said Kip.
    ‘We’re wasting time. Get out from behind that car and make your way up the sidewalk towards the police before it’s too late.’
    Kip crawled out from the gap and got onto his hands and knees. He began to creep along the line of parked cars, heading towards the cops – who he figured were at least less likely to shoot at him than the bad guys. But then he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and, looking through a gap in the cars, he saw to his horror that a bad guy was standing in the road, staring back at him from beneath the brim of his hat. The man’s face was cold and merciless and Kip saw that he was lifting his Tommy gun to fire.
    ‘No!’ yelled Kip. ‘Hang on, I’m not supposed to—’
    In that instant gunfire rattled from further up the street and the bad guy was blown backwards as a couple of shots thudded into his chest. As he fell, he lost his grip on the Tommy gun and it came skittering across the road between the gap in the cars. Kip grabbed at it instinctively, staying where he was for a moment, gasping for breath.
    ‘What’s going on?’ asked Mr Lazarus in his ear.
    ‘Didn’t you see? A man was going to shoot me only—’
    ‘The action has moved on,’ said Mr Lazarus. ‘Remember, I’m watching the edited version of events, but for you, it’s all happening in real time.’
    ‘Huh? I don’t really—’
    ‘You’ll get used to it. Right now, the camera is following Mr Dillinger. He’s somewhere behind you but I think he should go past you at any moment.’
    As if to prove the theory, a figure raced past Kip; a man in a heavy overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat. He was holding a Tommy gun and racing fearlessly towards the cops up ahead of him. Kip realised with a dull sense of shock that it was Russell Raven. No, he corrected himself, not him at all. It was John Dillinger. He had his head down, he was running for all he was worth and firing as he ran.
    ‘Wait!’ yelled Kip, but Dillinger didn’t seem to hear him. He kept right on going, his Tommy gun blazing.
    ‘He’s just run past me!’ yelled Kip.
    ‘Then get after him. We need that hat.’
    Kip gritted his teeth, got to his feet and went grimly in pursuit. He had only gone a short distance when he became aware of somebody else running up the road alongside him. Risking a glance, he saw that another gangster