‘Keep your voice down. Do you think they have hidden a microphone somewhere?’

I hadn’t thought of that possibility. I immediately realised the danger.

‘It’ll be in the lounge if it is anywhere.’

‘I’ve looked. I can’t find it.’

‘Wait here.’

I went into the lounge and crossing over to the radio I turned on, with the volume well up. A second or so later, the room was filled with the strident sound of a jazz session.

I went to the window and looked out. There was no sign of the police car, but I was sure it was there, out of sight, but from where they could watch my front gate. Then I went into the kitchen and looked out of the window. There was an alley running along the bottom of the garden. Two linesmen were working within sight of the kitchen door. One of them was at the top of a telegraph pole: the other lounged at the foot. Neither of them seemed busy.

While Nina watched from the door of the lounge, I made a systematic search for the microphone. I finally found it hidden in the radiator. If I hadn’t had some experience of police methods, I would never have found it.

I moved the radio to within a couple of feet of the radiator and let the jazz swamp the microphone.

‘They can’t hear us now,’ I said. ‘What made you think they had been here?’

‘I don’t know – a feeling.’ She sat down abruptly, looking at me with frightened eyes. ‘As soon as I opened the door I felt someone had been here. When I looked in the closet I found my clothes had been disarranged.’ She shivered. ‘What does it mean, Harry?’

‘It means they are on to me. They’re watching outside now.’

I had a sudden idea. I went into the bedroom, opened the closet door and checked my suits.

The brown sports suit was missing.

For a long uneasy moment I stood staring at the space where it had hung, then I went back into the lounge.

‘They were after my brown suit and they’ve taken it,’ I said.

Nina was trying not to cry. It wrung my heart to see her.

‘What are we going to do? Oh, Harry! I can’t bear the thought of losing you again! What will they do to you?’

I knew what they would do to me – they would put me in the gas chamber, but I didn’t tell her that.

‘Why did you let him have the tapes?’ she went on frantically. ‘I would rather…’

‘Stop it! This is my mess! He wasn’t bluffing. I had to give them to him!’

She beat her knees with her fists.

‘But what are we going to do?’

‘I don’t know. There must be a way out of this mess. I’ve been trying to think…’

‘You must tell John the whole story. He’ll help us. I’m sure he will!’

‘He can’t do a thing for me. There’s no proof. My only possible hope is to make O’Reilly confess, but how do I do that?’

‘What happened to the ransom money, Harry?’

I stared at her. A sudden prickle of excitement ran through me. I remembered what O’Reilly had said: Find the ransom, and you’ll find the killer.

‘What is it, Harry? Have you thought of something?’

‘The money! Where is it?’ I got to my feet and began to pace up and down. ‘Five hundred thousand dollars in small bills can’t be easily hidden. Where have they hidden it? Not in a bank – that’s certain. In the house? Dare they risk that? They must know as soon as I’m arrested, I’ll try to incriminate them and Renick will search the house. I can’t believe they would risk hiding it there – then where?’

‘A safe deposit?’

‘It would be risky. They would have to open an account and sign for a key. The most likely place is a left luggage station, either at the airport, the bus station or the railroad station. It would be easy and safe for O’Reilly to check in a suitcase at any of these places. No one would remember him, and he could get at the money quickly in an emergency without identifying himself.’

‘You must tell John.’

‘That wouldn’t help me. O’Reilly must be caught getting the suitcase out. He must be caught red-handed to do me any good.’

Nina made a gesture of helplessness.

‘But he would never let himself be caught red-handed.’

‘That’s right. Unless…’ I paused, then went on, ‘unless I can stampede him by some trick.’

‘But how? A man like that…’

‘Let me think about it. Let’s have supper. While you’re getting it, I’ll think. I want to turn the radio off. It’s driving me nuts.’

‘I’m so frightened. If they took you away…’

‘It hasn’t happened yet. Get hold of yourself, darling. I’m relying on you.’

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