12
In the White Room of Dr Morrow

With heart pounding like a racehorse, Pip dived through the door.

He found himself in a tidy living room, where a stripy cat sprang for cover beneath a table. The room was remarkably white, creating an atmosphere of cool and calm. Pip saw neatly stacked bookshelves and framed photographs of many smiling children, whose resemblance to the man on the deck was obvious.

Although Pip’s trust in human nature was pitifully thin, there was no doubt about what had happened: the man who had introduced himself as Jack Morrow had risked his life for him. That strange-eyed man was neither big nor tough – in fact he was shorter even than Pip – but he was braver than anyone he had ever met.

Now Pip stood gasping in the white room and waited for the sounds of violence to begin – splintering wood perhaps, or the shattering of glass as a small Irishman flew through the windowpane. But no sound came, except the steady ticking of a metronome by a large padded couch and the pounding of Pip’s heart.

He looked around for an escape route. He noted a glass door at the back of the kitchen with a key in the lock. If necessary he could run into the back yard; but he had to see what was happening on the porch.

Falling to his hands and knees, Pip crawled across the spotless white carpet towards the front window. Very slowly he raised his head and peered above the sill. Jack Morrow was standing with his back to him, looking out at the shambles of Dead River Farm. And there was Erwin, moving slow as a sleepwalker towards them, with a deadly leer on his face.

But still Jack Morrow did not run. In fact, to Pip’s amazement, he seemed to be walking across the deck to greet his killer. Jack had his hand extended in a friendly way, and although he was standing high on the deck, Erwin was still a head or more taller.

Transfixed with amazement and dread, Pip was reminded of a photograph in a wildlife book – a tiger approaching a deer; a predator about to disembowel its prey.

And then something extraordinary happened – Jack Morrow reached out and grasped Erwin’s hand. He was speaking softly to Erwin all the time, although Pip could not hear the words.

For a moment Erwin appeared puzzled and distressed. His eyes were transfixed by Jack Morrow’s and now . . . now he was allowing the small man to help him onto the deck.

With some regret, Pip realized that he would never know his tutor. Because now the killing would begin.