‘I’ll be back in an hour,’ I said.
I picked up my briefcase and walked out. I got in my car and drove back to Holland City.
I returned to the office. Clara was at lunch. Ted Weston was just leaving.
‘Are you coming with me, Mr. Halliday?’ he asked as I came into the office. We usually lunched together.
‘No. I’ve had mine,’ I said. ‘I have something to do, then I’m going out again. You get off.’
When he had gone, I opened the briefcase and took from it a couple of empty cigar boxes and some rolled up newspaper. I threw the cigar boxes and the newspaper into the trash basket and put the briefcase away.
I lit a cigarette and was a little surprised to see how steady my hands were. I sat down.
I thought of Keary at the Tavener’s Arms, waiting.
Well, all right, I thought, you gave me a bad half hour before you began to blackmail me, now it’s my turn. I was pretty sure that I now had him where I wanted him. This would be like bluffing on a poker hand. Both of us had everything to lose, but I had got used to the idea of losing everything: he hadn’t.
At half past one, I left the office and drove back to the Tavener’s Arms.
He was still sitting there. His fleshy face was shiny with sweat and his small eyes were viciously mean. It gave me a feeling of satisfaction that he had been sweating it out as he had made me sweat it out in his tiny office.
When he saw me come in, empty handed, a red flush of rage flooded his face.
There were about a dozen people now in the bar, but none of them sitting near his table.
He watched me cross the bar, his eyes glittering and his thin mouth working.
I pulled a chair and sat down.
‘Where’s the money?’ he said in a low, rasping voice.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ I said. ‘You’re not getting a cent from me. Now go ahead and arrest me.’
His face turned purple. His great red hands turned into fists.
‘Okay, you bum! I’ll fix you for this!’ he snarled. ‘I’ll damn well see you go away for fifteen years!’
‘That’s the same sentence as you’ll get,’ I said, staring fixedly at him. ‘They treat blackmail the same way as they treat an accessory to murder.’
‘Yeah? Who are you kidding? It’s your word against mine, and I know who they’d believe!’ He looked as if he wanted to throw a punch at me. ‘You don’t bluff me, you jerk! You either pay up or you’ll go to jail!’
‘I wondered why, after thirty-five years’ service, you didn’t get higher than a detective sergeant,’ I said. ‘Now, I know. You are just a stupid oaf without any brains. You’re the last man in the world who should try to blackmail anyone. I’ll tell you why. I made my statement to you before you retired. The desk sergeant will confirm I arrived at your office at four fifteen. I left your office before you did. What was I doing, talking to you, unless I was making a statement? Why didn’t you arrest me? Why didn’t you hand my statement over to your successor before you left? What are you doing here in Holland City, talking to me?’ I waved my hand to the barman. ‘He’ll give evidence that we met here and talked. Sort that lot out, and then add this little item, and then sort it out again. You aren’t the only one now with a reel of tape. Remember the briefcase I had with me? Remember I put it between us while we talked?
Remember what we said? In that case was a portable recorder. I have an excellent tape of our conversation. When I left you I took the recorder and the tape to my bank and I’ve asked them to take care of it. When that tape is played back in court, sergeant, you’ll join me in prison. You’ll lose your pension and you’ll get a fifteen year sentence. Where you went wrong in trying to blackmail me was that you had everything to lose. Rima Marshall hadn’t a thing to lose so she got away with it, but a successful blackmailer can’t afford to be vulnerable, and you are.’
There was sweat on his face as he snarled, ‘You’re lying! There wasn’t a recorder in that briefcase!
You don’t bluff me!’
I stood up.
‘You could be right, but you can’t prove it,’ I said. ‘Go ahead and have me arrested and then see what happens. Throw your pension away and get yourself a fifteen year stretch. Why should I care? That’s up to you. If you think I’m bluffing, call my bluff. If I’m arrested, it’s my bet you’ll be arrested in a day or so after I’m in a cell. My bank has my authority to hand my tape to the Los Angeles District Attorney together with a statement made by me that covers your attempt to blackmail me if I am arrested. I’m calling your bluff, you cheap crook! Now go ahead and call mine!’
I walked out of the bar and across the courtyard to my car.
The sun was shining. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Driving fast, I headed back to Holland City, back to Sarita and the bridge.
THE END
