‘We’ve found her!’ Renick’s voice sounded excited. ‘They have her down at headquarters. Come on, I’m on my way now.’
I found him and Barty waiting at the elevators. Barty was pressing the call button impatiently.
‘She’s dead,’ Renick said to me as I came up ‘She’s been murdered. She was found in the trunk of a stolen car in Pacific Boulevard.’
Little was said on the quick trip to headquarters. We drove straight into the yard. The Mercury stood in the shade with four or five plain clothes men grouped around it, watching a photographer at work.
I felt cold and sick as I got out of the police car and walked with Renick and Barty to the Mercury. I kept my eyes averted as Renick looked into the trunk.
‘I want the Medical Examiner to have her as soon as the photographer has finished,’ he said to one of the plain clothes men. ‘I want you boys to go over every inch of this car. Don’t miss a thing.’ He squatted down to stare again into the trunk. ‘Hey, what’s this? Looks like the ransom briefcase.’ He took out his handkerchief, reached inside the trunk and covering the handle of the case with the handkerchief, he lifted it out. ‘Don’t tell me the money’s here. It’s heavy enough.’ He set the case down and opened it while the other detectives crowded around. ‘Full of newspapers!’ he looked at Barty. ‘What the hell does this mean?’
‘Look at the dress she’s wearing,’ Barty said. ‘The barman at the Pirates’ Cabin said she had on a red dress and a white plastic mack. She’s changed her clothes.’
I had known the risk I was taking with the cheap blue and white dress, but nothing would have induced me to have taken the dress off the body and put the red dress back on her. It was something I couldn’t have done.
‘Where did the dress come from?’ Renick asked, puzzled. He turned to me. ‘Look, Harry, take a car and go to Malroux’s place. Ask Mrs. Malroux if the girl owned such a dress and bring someone down here to identify her.’
I stared at him.
‘You mean you want me to see Mrs. Malroux?’
‘Sure, sure,’ Renick said impatiently, ‘and break the news to the old man. Get O’Reilly to come down and identify her. We don’t want Malroux to see her. If he wants to come, warn him she isn’t a pretty sight, but check on that dress, it’s important.’
‘Okay,’ I said, and glad to get away from the Mercury and its gruesome contents I got into the police car and drove out of the yard.
Now, at last, I had the opportunity to talk to Rhea. Renick could trace that blue and white dress. Rhea had bought it. She was in for the jolt of her life.
Ten minutes later, I pulled up outside the Malroux residence. I ran up the steps and punched the bell.
The butler opened the door.
‘I’m from police headquarters,’ I said. ‘Mr. Malroux, please.’
The butler stood aside and let me in.
‘Mr. Malroux is far from well this morning. He is still in bed. I don’t like to disturb him.’
‘Mrs. Malroux will do… it’s important.’
‘If you will wait, sir…’
He started off down the long passage. I gave him a start, then moving silently, I went after him. He pushed open a glass swing door and stepped out onto the patio where Rhea lay in a lounging chair. She had on a pale blue shirt and white slacks. She looked extremely cool and beautiful, lying there in the sun.
She was reading the newspaper and she glanced up as the butler approached her.
I wasn’t giving him a chance to warn her. I stepped out onto the patio.
Rhea saw me. She stiffened. Her eyelids narrowed for a moment, then her expression became completely poker faced.
‘Who is this?’ she said to the butler.
As he turned, I walked up to her.
‘I’m from police headquarters,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but it is important.’
Rhea dismissed the butler with a wave of her hand. Neither of us spoke until the glass door had swung behind him, then I pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Remember me?’
She leaned back, reached for a cigarette and lit it. Her hands were very steady.
‘Should I remember you?’ she said, lifting her eyebrows. ‘What do you want?’
‘They have found her,’ I said, ‘but not in the cabin where you intended them to find her. They found her in a trunk of a stolen car.’
She flicked ash onto the crazy paving.
‘Oh? Is she dead?’
‘You know damn well she’s dead!’
‘Did you two quarrel over the money? You needn’t have murdered her, Mr. Barber.’
Her brazen attitude rattled me.
‘You’re not getting away with that,’ I said. ‘You’re responsible for her death and you know it!’
‘Am I?’ Again she lifted her eyebrows. ‘I can’t imagine anyone but you believing that.’
‘Don’t kid yourself. You have the motive. When your husband dies, half his fortune was to have gone to Odette.
