made a great difference to his appearance.
“What did he tell them?” he asked.
“He just asked them to come here.”
“Were there any other men with him?”
“Only that one.” Mrs. Kennedy pointed, and stood up. By her husband’s side, she looked ridiculously small.
There was a movement at the door, and Percy came in. He started, quickly recovered himself, and said: “I warned you.” Kennedy nodded. Not two minutes had passed since his arrival, but they were two precious minutes.
“What—— “ began Percy.
Kennedy said: “Collect all the papers, Percy, and take them away. Don’t go to Miss Kennedy’s flat—take them to one of the other places. First thing in the morning, tell Grace Howell to take the kids away from West’s house. I’ll deal with his wife afterwards. Tell Myers to put Sloan away, we won’t need him now—he wouldn’t be safe.”
Percy was already picking up the curled papers, and stuffing them inside his coat.
“Hurry,” said Kennedy dispassionately.
“Okay, okay,” said Percy. “No need to panic, we’ve looked after emergencies like this before.” He stuffed the last rolls of papers away, straightened up—and struck at Roger as he passed.
“Don’t waste time,” said Kennedy.
The Squad cars might be on the way already, but they might not be here in time to prevent Percy from leaving. There was no way of stopping him, except going for him now. That wouldn’t stop but only delay him. Percy passed Harry—paused again, and drove his foot into Harry’s side. Harry whimpered. Roger felt the blood rushing to his head in rage. No one spoke, and Percy went out. Kennedy backed after him, and closed the door. His wife went across the room and opened a cocktail cabinet and poured out three drinks. The seconds dragged. Kennedy looked at Roger with those dull eyes—the eyes that weren’t really his, and the eyes which had made Kennedy so noticeable among a crowd. The woman in green had said it would be impossible to swear that Kennedy was Kennedy. Impossible?
Kennedy came slowly. “Your mistake was in thinking we didn’t check up on your guard, West. We sent a man to see him, every couple of hours. When he wasn’t there, we guessed what had happened. I wish I knew why you did it.”
“Changing a face, you don’t change a mind.”
“I offered you everything——”
Roger said: “Why talk about it? You wouldn’t understand.” His cheeks and chin were smarting. He didn’t see how it would end, now, but Kennedy would get away with it for the time being, because that damning evidence had gone. He wondered what was in the man’s mind, what thoughts were passing behind those odd eyes. Kennedy didn’t look himself; looked a different man; he had become Raymond Hemmingway.
Kennedy shrugged.
“I still don’t understand it, West.”
Roger said: “You can judge a man by his actions, but not by his plans. You tried with me and failed. You used every pressure you could think of—threats to my wife and boys. You failed. I’m no further use to you. My wife and family can’t be. They’ll have enough to worry about, but just to get your petty revenge, you’ll make it worse for them. You’re as cheap as they come.”
Kennedy laughed. “Think so. West? I shall use someone else at the Yard and hold up what happened to your wife and the kids as an awful example. I’ve others marked down. Before I’m through, I shall have several contact men at the Yard. Banister is a good start, but a small one. I shall be able to get away with a lot of crimes with help from the Yard. But there isn’t time to go into detail.” He laughed again. “Just one more detail will interest you. I’m going to shoot you.” He raised the gun. “When the police arrive, I shall tell them the simple truth: my wife heard someone about, came to investigate, found you two in the house, shot one of you, and was overpowered by the other. Then I returned, and caught you red-handed. There’s the open safe, all the evidence. I am not Kennedy here, I am a respected society and businessman, named Hemmingway. I suppose you knew that. I shall pretend to know nothing at all, except that there were burglars and both were shot while trying to get away. That’s justifiable homicide. To make it more realistic, I may wait until the police are at the door—the sound of a shot would be most impressive, and would prove that I’d waited as long as I dared, and that you made a final desperate attempt to escape.” He laughed again. “It was a good throw, West, you almost deserved to succeed. Harry was the weakness, of course. I suppose it was a mistake to use a friend of Ginger Kyle’s.”
The gun covered Roger’s stomach.
There was one thing he’d forgotten, and his wife might forget; that Roger had used Sloan’s name. How would he explain that away?
It was very quiet in the room.
The woman in green said: “I shouldn’t lose any more time, Ray.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Kennedy, and raised the gun a fraction.
Here it came.
Roger braced himself. Better fling himself forward, make a pretence at fighting. Death had an ugly face, and he was looking right into it, it mattered little which way it came.
* * * *
Kennedy, caught unawares, staggered and turned on Harry, who kicked again. Roger swung round on the woman in green. Gun in hand, she was staring at Harry. Roger snatched at the gun. She pulled it free. They grappled, and she fell backwards.
