Death out of Thin Air by Clayton Rawson Page A

was antique, almost obsolete. Frenchmen had not spoken the words for many centuries….
    The dark ominously shaped shadow moved, continued down the stairs and came toward them. It stopped just outside the archway in the darkness of the hall, beyond the edge of light. But Pat and Karl could see more than they wanted of the details of that nightmare of a head.
    Zoological authorities all agree that the face of the vampire bat is the most repulsive countenance in the whole realm of animal physiognomy. Pat and Karl were looking at such a face magnified many times.
    The shape of the head, if it was like anything else at all possessed by any creature that ever walked or flew the face of the earth, was most nearly similar to that of the wolf. It had the same hungry snout and long, razor-sharp canine teeth. But it was a black wolfish head straight out of some maniac’s disordered dream. Large, leathery, pointed ears stood up from the sides and top of the head and the nose bore a curious erect, spear-shaped appendage characteristic of the bat family. The mouth grinned diabolically and the small black eyes had a bright look.
    The figure spoke again, its voice harsh. “ Tournez vous. À la fois! ”The gun indicated Karl.
    Karl obeyed slowly, turning his back on the archway and the figure beyond. His eyes rested on the nearby table and he tried to sidestep in its direction. Beneath its top edge was the hidden spring that controlled a trapdoor just within the archway. If he could get to it and if the Bat should come forward into the room….
    But Karl never made it. The Bat moved too quickly. As soon as Karl’s back had turned, he took three long strides forward and his gun hand swung. The hard muzzle of the automatic caught Karl behind the ear. He crumpled to the floor. Pat screamed.
    Then, as the thing moved toward her, one arm outstretched, the phone rang.
    The Bat’s head turned quickly. “ Répondez! ” He motioned at the phone with his gun. Pat, partly from shock, partly from anger at what he had done to Karl, did not obey.
    The fact that any human sound other than a bat’s shrill squeal could issue from that mouth was astounding enough. But what he said now was even more strange.
    â€œ Answer that! Be quick about it! And no funny business .”
    That broke the spell. Pat, as much from relief as anything else, laughed and got control of herself.
    â€œOh,” she said, “It speaks English.”
    She got up and took the phone. The Bat, his gun on her every second, watched her intently.
    In the phone she heard Diavolo’s voice calling from Chandler’s office and asking her to get ready to go with him to meet the Bat. Her mind worked like lightning.
    â€œI’ m sorry. I couldn’t possibly, I have a date tonight,” she said breathlessly. “You should have called earlier, darling.”
    But that wasn’t all she did. Nor did the Bat see the slight intermittent scratching movement of her pointed thumbnail against the side of the phone receiver. The Bat didn’t see it, but Diavolo heard it. The sounds carried a message to him which, translated, read: “ I’ve met the Bat already! He’s here! Hurry! ”
    And then, after Don had hung up, she stalled, pretending to carry on a conversation. This didn’t work for long. Impatiently the gun moved closer. Pat finally had to hang up.
    Then, at once — as she was replacing the receiver — she felt the gloved hands around her neck and the two fingers that pressed quickly and steadily in the hollows behind her ears. Blackness fell swiftly like a great curtain….
    The black sedan bearing Mickey and Don Diavolo roared down Eleventh Avenue, southward beneath the pillars of the elevated highway where traffic lights were few. But even so, they were too late.
    In the alleyway behind the house, Don pulled the car to a screeching stop.
    â€œTake her in, Mickey,” he ordered as he leaped