‘Tough old guy,’ he said as we shot away down the drive. ‘Damned if I would be so controlled if I had lost my only daughter.’
It gave me a queer feeling when we pulled up by the clump of shrubs behind which I had hidden not three hours ago.
I now had the opportunity of seeing Barty at work, and I was immediately impressed by his efficiency. By now the sun was coming up. He told the two police officers with us to search around for a place where a car could have been hidden, then he investigated the clump of shrubs, warning me to keep away.
After some twenty minutes, during which time I stood around and sweated, he called me over.
‘I guess I’ve got all there is to be got here,’ he said. ‘You can see where the guy hid. Here’s a heel print in the soft earth that’ll make a dandy cast. It may not mean a thing unless we catch him wearing the same pair of shoes. Here’s a cigarette butt – a Lucky – but that may not mean anything unless we can prove he always smokes Luckies. If he does, we have a swell talking point for the jury.’
One of the police officers came over and told Barty they had found where the car had been hidden.
We joined the other officer where I had left the Packard.
‘We have a good impression of a tyre here, sir,’ he said as Barry came up. ‘There’s a lot of oil too. I guess the car could be in trouble. It fairly leaked oil.’
Barty examined the ground and grunted.
‘I’ve a lot of work to do here, Barber,’ he said to me. ‘Will you take the car and pick John up? Tell him I’ll be here for a couple of hours and to send a car for me.’
‘Sure,’ I said, and leaving the three men, I walked to the police car.
I drove back to Malroux’s house. I just couldn’t believe this was happening to me. It was like living in a nightmare. I kept hoping I would wake up and find it had never happened. Every now and then my mind went to the Packard in my garage, and I would come out in a cold sweat.
As I pulled up outside the main gates to Malroux’s house, I saw Renick waiting. He was carrying a briefcase: it was the same briefcase that Malroux had dropped from his car. It was unmistakable. The sight of it pretty nearly stampeded me.
Renick tossed the case into the back of the car and got in beside me.
‘Barty find anything?’ he asked.
I told him what Barty had found. My voice was flat and dead. I knew I had left the briefcase in the trunk of the car, and yet, here it was, right behind me.
‘What have you got there?’ I asked.
‘That’s like the briefcase Malroux used to hold the ransom money. He had a pair: they are identical.
This is a break for us. We’ll get the case photographed. You never know. The kidnapper may have dumped the case. We might trace it and get his fingerprints. Right now, we’ll report back to Meadows. If he is ready, we’ll alert the Press. All we can hope for now is someone will come forward who saw the girl after she left the Pirates’ Cabin.’
You won’t get anywhere with that angle, I thought. How thankful I was I had insisted that Odette should change her clothes and wear a red wig.
Meadows was waiting for us when we arrived at his office. After Renick’s report, he got up and began to pace up and down his office, chewing his cigar.
Finally, he said, ‘Well, now we go into bat. We’ll be in time for the lunch editions.’ He paused to point a stubby finger at me. ‘This is your job, Barber. We want Press co-operation. I don’t have to tell you what to do. I want plenty of good publicity. Understand?’ He swung around to Renick. ‘And watch this, John! No mistakes. We’ll be right in the limelight. This kidnapper has to be caught – check?’
‘Yeah,’ Renick said. ‘I’ll talk to Reiger, then we’ll get moving with the Press.’
We both went to Reiger’s office. He gave me a batch of photographs of the car.
‘Okay, you get busy, Harry,’ Renick said, ‘I want to talk to the Captain.’
I asked him the question I had been wanting to ask for the past hour.
‘When you talked to Malroux, did you see anything of his wife?’
I could see Renick’s surprise as he shook his head.
‘No. Malroux told me she has collapsed and is in bed.’
Reiger looked up sharply.
‘Collapsed? I wouldn’t have thought she was the collapsing type.’
Renick made an impatient movement.
‘So what? She became hysterical last night while they were waiting for the kidnapper to telephone.
The doctor had to be called. He gave her a strong sedative, and she hasn’t come out of it yet.’
Dry mouthed, I asked, ‘You checked with the doctor, John?’
He frowned at me.
‘Anything on your mind, Harry?’
‘No. Like the Captain just said: she doesn’t strike me from her photos as the collapsing type.’
‘Look, don’t let’s waste time about her,’ Renick said. ‘Whether she is the collapsing type or not, Malroux says she collapsed. Get busy with those prints.’ He handed me the briefcase. ‘Get this photographed and circulate the
