The Woman in Black

An excerpt:

“This is Kurt Todd. I’d like to talk to Chief Detective Conrad Tormez.”
Conrad grabbed the microphone. “This is Conrad Tormez.”
The voice, speaking at a high pitch, continued, “Kurt Todd here. Surprised?”
“Not really.”
“We meet again. You never stopped looking for me, right?” He paused and laughed. “One day I got fed up seeing you or your men wandering around my place. I tried to get you, but instead of you, I shot your partner and his wife. Uncertainty of the job!”
Conrad frowned. The motive for the murder of Savina’s parents had always been a mystery, since the sniper had left no trace and no clues. At last the sniper had a name, and a face—the face of hatred.
“Now you know everything about me,” Todd continued. “Surprised that I got your stunt girl, Savina? You camouflaged her well to look like my girl, Clara, Conrad. And I tip my hat to your discovery of a way to make her speech sound like Clara’s. It was perfect. Too bad you didn’t warn her how dangerous I am.”
He did, and many times over! “You’re only moderately dangerous,” Conrad lied. Never let an enemy know what your real feelings or thoughts are, was Conrad’s motto. “The game isn’t over yet,” he added in an even tone.
“Playing cool, eh?” said Todd, laughing hysterically. “In a moment this place will be hot, very hot. The entire house is wired.”
Only in three places, thought Conrad. Jerome had been very precise.
“I’d like you to take a look at my two guests,” said Kurt.
Savina and Denis were brutally pushed outside through the main door.
“So—” said Conrad. From that distance he couldn’t see whether Savina and Denis were in good shape. A rope crossed their chests and, from the way they moved, they seemed to be tied together. Thank God, they’re both alive.
“Do you want them back?”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Conrad replied, coolly. The three specialists, now behind the cedars flanking the house, had reached their target, and were looking for points of entry. He should gain time. Time was going to be a big factor; the biggest of all—the one that could make him prevail. Because whatever game Kurt had in mind wasn’t one Conrad was anxious to play.
“Want to know the price?” Kurt Todd asked.
“Sure,” Conrad replied. One man was entering the house through a side window. “Sure,” he repeated.
“A simple exchange.” Kurt paused. “Savina and Denis for Conrad Miguel Tormez.” He laughed, hysterical again. “You’re lucky. Double the value, you see.”
A freezing feeling went through Conrad, head to toe. So that’s what it was. Revenge. Old, sweet revenge. He watched a second man enter the house through the same lateral window.
“You come here, unarmed, or I blow up the house this very instant,” yelled Kurt. “This very instant,” he repeated, fury in his voice.
Conrad searched for an escape. There wasn’t any. Letting Savina and Denis die was worse than his own death. The third man was wandering on the roof, tiptoeing toward the skylight.
“The exchange,” said Conrad slowly, “has to be fair. At the halfway point we are all three vulnerable.”
Kurt Todd laughed aloud. “That’s the idea. You have to trust me. We have to believe that I want to have a talk with you before blowing you up. A long talk, I mean.” Conrad did not answer. “You come in now or I press the switch,” Todd screamed. He pushed Savina and Denis further, keeping them leashed with the rope he had in his hand. In the other he held an automatic.
Conrad had to gain more time. In a calm tone he said, “Just a couple of minutes.” Then serenely, almost hieratically, he added, “You call me to die. I need to get a grasp on my soul. A few minutes only.” He made the sign of the cross, knelt and looked up, his hands joined in prayer. He watched the man on the roof lift the skylight glass and enter the attic.