was just what we want. We can’t go on living here. You’ll have to entertain more. We can’t have people here. A man in your position must have a nice home.’
‘Let’s skip it, Sarita. I know what I’m doing.’
For a long moment she stared at me, then she said, ‘Well, of course, if that’s the way you feel… all right. You really want us to remain here?’
‘Until we build.’
‘Then perhaps we could refurnish the place: at least let us try to make it look something better than this.’
‘We’ll talk about that later.’ I got to my feet. ‘Let’s go to bed. Look at the time: it’s pushing one o’clock.’
‘Mr. Terrell is waiting, Jeff. He wants to know tonight.’
This was more than my nerves could take.
‘Well, tell him then! Tell him I’ve changed my mind,’ and I went out of the lounge and into the bedroom.
I was angry and sick with frustration. As I began to undress, I heard Sarita talking on the telephone.
I was under the shower when she came into the bedroom. After I had put on my pyjamas, I joined her in the bedroom. I got into bed and lit a cigarette.
She went into the bathroom and shut the door. This was the first time since we had married that she had shut the door while preparing for bed and its significance wasn’t lost on me.
I suddenly had to know the exact amount of money I had in the bank. I got out of bed, went into the lounge and got out my bank statement. A quick calculation showed that I had a little less than two thousand dollars in cash and ten thousand in bonds. I wouldn’t be getting my share of the bridge fee for another eight days.
We had been spending my small capital pretty briskly since I had landed the bridge contract. There had been clothes to buy. I had given Sarita a diamond brooch. I had had new tyres fitted to the car. I would have to part with my bonds to Rima. That left me with two thousand for eight days, plus a lot of bills.
I returned to the bedroom.
Sarita was already in bed, her back to my bed.
I got into bed and turned off the light.
‘Good night darling,’ I said.
‘Good night.’
Her voice was flat and impersonal.
‘I’m sorry, Sarita. Really sorry, but you must believe I know what I’m doing,’ I said. ‘You won’t regret it in the long run. Try not to be too disappointed.’
‘I don’t want to discuss it any more. Good night.’
There was silence.
I lay there staring into the darkness, feeling pretty bad. After a while I switched my mind to what I was going to do. If I were to save our future, I had to find a way out of this mess.
There were three obvious things I had to do: find Rima, find the gun and get rid of it, then silence Rima.
But how was I going to find her?
Tomorrow I would have to send a cheque for ten thousand dollars to the Los Angeles bank. As far as I could see, the only possible way to trace Rima was through this bank. Obviously, they wouldn’t give me her address, but was it possible to trick it out of them in some way?
I thought about this for some time, but finally decided it was a hopeless line of thought. Somewhere in the bank they would have a record of Rima’s other bank and her signed instructions to credit any sum paid to them into this bank. Was it possible for me to get at this record?
How did one get at the records held by a bank, short of break in at night? That would be completely beyond my powers. To break into a bank was a professional job, and besides, the risk of being caught was almost a sure thing.
After more thought, I decided it was impossible to make any plan until I had seen the bank. This meant a trip to Los Angeles.
I thought of all the work piled up on my desk and the appointments I had lined up for tomorrow and I cursed Rima. But my work would have to be shelved. If I was going to find her I would have to act at once.
I would have to take the ten-thirty plane tomorrow morning. Jack would have to handle the urgent appointments. What he would say I couldn’t imagine, but I had to move fast. There was a slight chance that Rima would be going to Los Angeles and a slighter chance that I might spot her.
I would have to part with the first ten thousand dollars. I then had three clear weeks ahead of me before I had to pay the second instalment. In that time I had to find and silence her.
CHAPTER THREE
I
I got to the office before eight o’clock and I was in a pretty depressed mood.
Sarita had been quiet during breakfast. We had said little to each other. Nothing was said about the bungalow, but it was there, between us like a ten-foot wall.
When I looked at my desk and saw all the paper work piled in my In-tray, my heart sank. By going to Los Angeles, I would be throwing a hopeless burden on Jack. I knew he was pretty booked up this morning with appointments with contractors at the site of the bridge.
I slaved for an hour, getting some of the urgent paper work out of the way, then the door jerked open and Jack breezed in.
‘Hi, Jeff!’ he said, going over to his desk. ‘I’ve got four bulldozers on the job. They are beginning to clear the site right now. I’ve started them, now I’ve got to see Cooper about those concrete mixers. Any mail in yet?’
‘Not yet.’ I hesitated, then blurted out, ‘Look, Jack, I’ve got to take a couple of days off.’
He was pawing through a mass of papers, muttering under his breath. For a moment, he didn’t seem to have heard, then he looked up sharply.
‘What was that?’
I leaned back in my desk chair and tried to look casual.
‘I have to take a couple of days off. I want you to hold the fort.’
He stared at me as if he thought I had gone crazy.
‘Hey! Wait a minute! You can’t do that! You can’t take time off now, Jeff! What are you thinking of!
You have Kobey, Max Stone, Crombie and Cousins lined up for appointments, haven’t you? I want those estimates for the steel today. You can’t take time off now!’
‘I’m sorry, but I have to. This is very urgent private business.’
His jovial face suddenly turned hard and flushed brick red.
‘I don’t give a damn how urgent it is! We’re building a bridge and we have a time limit! To hell with your urgent and private business! You’ve got to stay right here and do your job as I’m doing mine!’
‘But I have to go, Jack.’
He ran his hand over his balding head, staring at me. Slowly, the flush died down and into his alert eyes came a quizzing, shrewd expression.
‘What’s up then?’
‘Personal trouble,’ I said woodenly, not looking at him. ‘It’s important to Sarita and me.’
He moved papers about on his desk, frowning, then he said, ‘I’m sorry I blew up. I’m sorry too to hear you have trouble. Let’s put our cards on the table, Jeff. You and I are partners. We have put our money in this firm and
