Legacy Of Terror

trick of her mind to soften the suddenness of death which would soon receive her. Then she saw that Bess and Jerry were looking toward the door and that Gordon had stopped advancing on her and had swung around to see who the intruder was.
    A hand came through the broken pane, found the lock, threw it open, and pushed the door inward.
    Dennis Matherly stood framed in sunlight, his face a mask of horror but also of-determination. “Put the knife down, Gordon,” he said.
    But Gordon said, “No.”

Chapter 20
    Dennis stepped into the room; the broken glass crunched and snapped under his feet. Elaine did not know whether it was only her mind playing tricks on her or whether what she saw was untainted by her emotions-but Dennis looked manlier, taller, huskier and far more formidable than she had remembered him. In his work shirt and jeans, he might have been a laborer rather than an artist.
    “Go away, Dennis,” Gordon said.
    “You know I can't”
    Elaine wondered if there were anything she could do, now that Gordon's attention had been diverted. Should she run? Should she try to lift that heavy glass ashtray and hit him with it? No, that was all too melodramatic. That kind of thing only worked in movies. She would just have to wait and see…
    “This doesn't concern you,” Gordon told his brother. “Stay back.”
    Elaine was both amazed and pleased to see that Dennis ignored the threat and the waving knife. How could she have so misjudged him?
    “I'll kill you,” Gordon said.
    “No you won't, Gordon. Give me the knife.”
    If she could not move, at least she could speak. At least she could warn him. “Dennis,” Elaine said, “believe him. He will kill you. He thinks he's possessed by your mother's ghost”
    Dennis did not question what she had said, did not even lift his eyebrows, though she was certain the news confounded him. Clearly, his mind was agile and adaptable, not frivolous. Or, could it be that familiarity with all the faces of frivolity produced an adaptable mind-?
    “She's right,” Gordon added. “Mother has returned, and she has come back only to me-because I'm the one who waited for her and wanted her all these years.”
    Dennis picked a thick, souvenir pillow of the New York World's Fair from the seat of an old rocker and held it before him like a shield. He intended to take the knife away from Gordon.
    Elaine realized that Dennis' extra size would be offset by his brother's fanatic energy. She made a last attempt to reason Gordon out of murdering his older brother. To manage that, she had to use the madman's own illogical brand of logic.
    “Gordon, your mother only wanted you to destroy women-women who were trying to take her family away from her.”
    Having said that, she felt queasy, very alone and tiny and weak in the midst of so much insane power.
    Gordon, without taking his eyes from Dennis, said, “He's trying to keep me from dealing with you. Mother wants me to deal with you. She's told me so many times. She won't stop nagging me until I've done with you.”
    Elaine remembered what Celia had looked like when Gordon had done with her, and she felt all the heat draining from her body. She was cold, indescribably cold, a tooth of ice. She said, “Your mother will never stop nagging you if you kill your brother. Don't you see that you'd be taking her family away from her -the very thing she's trying to prevent!”
    The argument had its intended effect on Gordon. He lowered the knife which he had thrust toward his brother, and his face twisted in agony as he attempted to puzzle his way through the maze of “duties” which he owed Amelia.
    Elaine felt breathless as she launched into more of the same amateur but effective psychology. “Your mother would want you, if it came to a conflict of interests, to protect her family first. Your mother would tell you to let us all go-then take care of me at a later date.”
    The old couple on the sofa looked at Elaine in amazement, as if they did not understand that she was lying, as if they thought she had accepted the theory of spiritual possession.
    “Throw down the knife,” Dennis said.
    Gordon looked at the knife.
    Dennis stepped toward him, still using the pillow as a shield.
    “The knife… mother meant for me… to use it to…”
    “Throw it down!” Elaine said.
    That seemed to be the trigger, the last command, which made him explode. Without warning, he whirled about and leaped for Elaine. He raised the gleaming weapon high above his head and brought it down toward her