As I lit the cigarette, my mind jumped to the events of the previous night. I had seen Odette off at the airport. I hadn’t told her about the car accident. There was no point in upsetting her nerves. It was bad enough for my nerves to be upset without involving hers. She had gone off happily enough, having got over the shock of the drunk. She had the resilence of youth. During the drive to the airport, I had assured her I hadn’t hurt the guy and once she was convinced, she was able to dismiss him from her mind. But I couldn’t: nor could I dismiss from my mind the car accident.
During the drive from the airport, I tried to convince myself it was going to work out all right. The drunk who I had knocked on the head, knowing he had tried to assault Odette, was pretty certain to keep his mouth shut. The man and the women who owned the car that had crashed into the T.R.3 might not tell the police, knowing it was their fault that the car had backed into mine.
When I had reached Palm City I had gone to a bar in a quiet street. I had had a couple of drinks. The bar was crowded with people sheltering from the rain. No one paid any attention to me.
I shut myself in a pay booth and had called Malroux’s telephone number.
While I waited, listening to the thump-thump-thump of my heart, I wondered if Odette had safely reached her hotel. After a delay, I heard the butler’s voice.
‘Give me Mr. Malroux,’ I said, making my voice sound hard and curt. ‘I have a message from his daughter.’
‘Who is this, please?’
I fairly yelled at him: ‘Do what I say! Tell Malroux to come to the phone!’
‘Will you hold on?’
There was a shocked note in the man’s voice.
I heard him lay down the receiver. I waited, feeling sweat on my face. I kept looking through the glass panel of the booth at the crowded bar. No one looked my way.
Then a quiet voice said in my ear, ‘This is Malroux. Who is calling?’
Well, at least Rhea hadn’t been bluffing. She had said she would make him come to the phone and he had come.
‘Listen carefully, pal,’ I said, speaking slowly so he couldn’t miss a word. ‘We’ve kidnapped your daughter. We want five hundred thousand bucks. Do you hear me? Five hundred grand and in small bills. If you don’t pay up you won’t see her again – that’s a promise. You’re not to call in the cops and no tricks – understand? This is a snatch, pal. If you want to see your daughter again, you’ll do as I’m telling you.’
There was a moment’s pause, then the quiet voice said, ‘I understand. I will pay, of course. How do I deliver the money and how is my daughter to be returned?’
He sounded as calm and as unruffled as a politician presiding over a tea party.
‘I’ll telephone you Monday,’ I said. ‘How soon can you get the money? The sooner you get it the better for your daughter.’
‘I’ll have it ready tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow’s Sunday.’
‘I’ll have it ready tomorrow.’
‘Okay. I’ll phone you Monday morning. You’ll get instructions where to deliver it, and remember, one word to the cops, any tricks and you won’t see the kid again. You’ll find her in a ditch, but not before we’ve had some fun with her.’
I replaced the receiver and went out to the Packard.
I didn’t feel proud of myself, but this was a job. The money involved was too big to worry about pride. I was glad to find Nina asleep. I didn’t get much sleep that night. It seemed I had barely dozed off when the telephone bell woke me.
I now listened intently to the sound of Nina’s voice as she talked to the caller.
When I heard her quick steps coming down the passage, I braced myself.
The bedroom door opened.
‘Harry… it’s John. He wants to talk to you. He says it’s urgent.’
I threw off the sheet and slipped on the dressing-gown she held for me.
‘What’s so urgent?’ I said. ‘Did he tell you?’
‘No. He’s asking for you.’
‘Okay. I’ll talk to him.’
I went into the lounge and picked up the telephone receiver.
‘John? This is Harry.’
‘Hello there, boy,’ John said. His voice sounded excited. ‘Now, listen: I’ve got this job fixed for you, and you could be right into something that could be a sensation. I want you to come down here right away. I’m calling from the D.A.’s office. Just to make it sweet for you, they’re going to offer you a hundred and fifty and expenses. But never mind that. The point is we can use you, Harry, and fast. We could have something on our hands that’ll start a prairie fire. You’ve heard of Felix Malroux: the French millionaire? It looks as if his daughter has been kidnapped. If he has – brother! Will this be something!
It’s just the set-up you can handle. Come down here right away. The D.A. will want to talk to you.’
I felt icy fingers closing over my heart.
‘Now, wait a minute,’ I said, my voice unsteady, ‘I didn’t say I’d work for the Administration.’
‘For the love of Mike, Harry!’ Renick’s voice shot up half an octave. ‘If this turns out to be what I think it is, it’s
