I braced myself and started down the road towards my bungalow.
II
As I walked up the path, I saw Nina and two soldiers standing by the Packard. At the sound of my approach, the three of them turned.
‘Here’s my husband now,’ Nina said.
‘Hello,’ I said to her. ‘What’s going on?’
The two soldiers were no more than kids. One of them was bulky and fair with a fat, pink face. He looked hot and bored. The other was a little guy, dark with a sharp alert expression. He gave the impression of being hostile and tough. I knew at once he would be the one I’d have to handle.
‘Is this your car?’ the dark one demanded.
Ignoring him, I said to Nina, ‘What’s all this about?’
‘They are searching for the kidnapped girl,’ Nina said. She sounded and looked irritated. ‘They want the trunk opened.’
By now I had got my second wind. I was so desperate I forgot to be scared.
‘You don’t imagine I’ve got her in there, do you?’ I said to the fat kid and I managed a laugh.
He grinned awkwardly.
‘I guess not, sir,’ he said. ‘I keep telling Joe here…’
‘Will you open this trunk?’ the dark one said. ‘I’ve got orders to search every house and car in this street, and that’s what I’m going to do.’
‘I’ve told him I have lost my keys,’ Nina said. ‘I asked him to wait for you, Harry. He’s been waiting some time.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said to the dark one, ‘but I haven’t my keys. I’ve left them with a locksmith. He’s cutting a duplicate set for my wife.’
He stared at me: his sharp eyes suspicious.
‘That’s too bad,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a warrant. If you haven’t the key, then I’m going to bust this trunk open.’
‘I’ll have the key here by tomorrow morning,’ I said, trying desperately hard to sound casual. ‘Come tomorrow morning and I’ll be glad to open the trunk for you.’
‘Come on, Joe,’ the fat soldier urged. ‘We’ve got half the goddam street to check yet, and it’s getting late.’
Joe paid no attention to him. I could see he was going to make an issue of this.
‘I’m going to bust open this trunk,’ he said, and moving away from me, he looked around the garage.
He spotted a tyre lever and picked it up.
‘Now, wait a minute,’ I said and I got in front of the trunk. ‘You’re not damaging my car! Here, take a look at this,’ and I gave him my Press card.
He stared at it without touching it.
‘So what?’ He swung the tyre lever impatiently. ‘I don’t give a damn who you are. I’ve got orders to check every car in this street: that’s what I’m going to do!’
I looked at Nina.
‘There’s a policeman over the way. Go and get him.’
As Nina ran out of the garage, Joe said savagely, ‘I don’t give a goddam for any cop either. I’m opening that trunk! Get out of my way!’
I remained where I was.
‘You’re not damaging my car,’ I said. ‘I’ll open the trunk tomorrow morning when I have the key and not before.’
We stared at each other for a long moment, then he put down the tyre lever.
‘Okay, if that’s the way you want it. Come on, Hank, we’re going to shift this punk. I’m opening the trunk!’
‘Aw, now look, Joe,’ the fat one said uneasily. ‘No rough stuff. Let’s wait for the cop.’
‘I’m obeying orders,’ he said. He eyed me. ‘Are you getting out of the way or do I have to get you out of the way?’
‘You’re heading for a court-martial, soldier,’ I said. ‘You start any rough stuff and you’ll be sorry.’
Joe looked at Hank.
‘Come on: we’re going to shift this guy. If he gets hurt, it’s his funeral,’ and he started towards me as Nina came up the path with one of the policemen I had seen across the way.
Joe paused as the cop, a big, heavily built man, came into the garage.
‘What’s going on?’ the cop demanded.
‘I want to see inside this trunk,’ Joe said. ‘This guy hasn’t the key. I’ve got orders. I’m busting the trunk open, but this guy says no.’
‘Where’s the key?’ the cop said to me.
‘At the locksmith,’ I told him. ‘I’m having a duplicate made.’
He stared at me, scratching his bullet head with a thick finger.
