me if I don’t get knocked off tomorrow night.’
Mifflin eyed me thoughtfully.
‘That’s the only bit of good news I’ve had this week,’ he said. ‘Yeah, come to think of it, it’s an even bet that’s what they’ll do to you.’
I left him, rubbing his hands and whistling the Dead March in
III
‘Have you made a will?’ Jack Kerman asked as he watched me load a .38 from a box of shells on my desk. ‘I hope you’ve left me all your money. I can do with it. That redhead of mine seems to think I’m made of the stuff.’
‘Do be quiet, Jack,’ Paula said sharply. She was trying not to show how worked up she was, but the worried expression in her eyes gave her away. ‘Haven’t you any sense of decency?’
‘Oh, shut up, you two,’ I said, scowling at them. ‘You’re giving me the shakes. Now, let’s get this straight, Jack. The house will probably be watched, so you’ve got to keep out of sight. I’ll let you know where we’re going on my way out. Give us a good five minutes to get clear of the house, then follow on after us. Make certain no one sees you. We can’t afford to slip up on this. Whatever you do, don’t show yourself unless trouble starts, and then come out shooting.’
Kerman gulped.
‘What was that last bit again?’
‘I said come out shooting.’
‘I thought that’s what you said. Come to think of it, it mightn’t be a bad idea if I made a will myself.’
‘And for the love of Pete, try to shoot straight,’ I went on, looked at my wrist watch, stood up and shoved the .38 into the shoulder holster under my coat. ‘We’d better get off. If you don’t hear from either of us, Paula, by midnight, get on to Mifflin and tell him the tale.
‘She’ll hear from me,’ Kerman said, looking worried. ‘Well, damn it, I hope she will!’
‘Be careful, Vic,’ Paula said anxiously.
I patted her shoulder.
‘I can’t make you out. You worry over a little job like kidnapping, but think nothing of sending me into a room full of dope fiends. Be your age, Paula. Think of the money we’re going to make.’
‘Well, don’t do anything silly,’ she said, trying to smile, ‘and for heaven’s sake don’t show off before that rich blonde.’
‘You’re making me nervous,’ I said. ‘Come on, Jack. Let’s get out of here.’
Together we went along the corridor to the elevator. ‘Think we have time for a drink?’ Kerman asked hopefully as we reached ground level.
‘No; but there’s a pint in the car. And, Jack, don’t make any mistakes. This might turn out to be a nasty job.’
Kerman gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘It’s already nasty enough for me.’
He climbed into the back of the Buick and squatted down on the floor. I chucked a rug over him.
‘I’m going to love every minute of this,’ he said, poking his head out from the folds of the rug. ‘How long do you reckon I’ll be under this lot?’
‘Oh, about three or four hours: not more.’
‘With the temperature in the eighties, that should give me some idea what the Black Hole of Calcutta was like.’
‘It’ll get cooler in the evening,’ I said heartlessly and started the car. ‘You have a whole bottle of Scotch to help pass the time, only don’t smoke.’
‘Not smoke?’ His voice shot up in a yelp of dismay.
‘Listen; stop kidding yourself. If these guys find out you’re in the back of the car, they’ll steal up and slit your gizzard.’
That quietened him.
I drove up the two miles of private road a lot more sedately than the first time I came this way. I took the bend in the drive nice and slow, and pulled up within a yard of the balustrade surrounding the courtyard.
In the warm light of the evening sun, the house looked about as attractive as any house would look after a million dollars had been spent on it. The big black Cadillac stood before the front entrance. In the middle distance two Chinese gardeners were picking the dead roses off an umbrella standard. They worked as if the rose tree was their main source of income for the next nine months: probably it was. The big swimming pool glittered in the sun, but no one swam in it. Across the expanse of velvety lawn in the lower garden, below the terraces, six scarlet flamingoes stood looking towards me, stiff-legged and crotchety, as unreal as the blue sky of an Italian postcard. There was everything to be had this day at Ocean End except happiness.
I looked towards the house. The grass-green shutters covered the windows; a cream-andgreen striped awning flapped above the front door.
‘Well, so long,’ I said in a low voice to Kerman. ‘I’m going in now.’
‘Have a lovely time. Kerman’s voice was bitter from under the rug. ‘Don’t stint yourself. Have plenty of ice with your drinks.’
I walked along the terrace and screwed my thumb into the bell push. I could see through the glass panels of the door into a big hall and a dim, cool passage that led to the back of the house.
A tall, thin old man came down the passage and opened the front door. He looked me over in a kindly way. I had an idea he was pricing my suit and wishing he could buy me something a little better that wouldn’t disgrace the house. But I was probably wrong. He may not even have been thinking about me.
‘Mrs. Dedrick is expecting me.’
‘The name, sir?’
‘Malloy.’
He still stood squarely in the doorway.
‘Have you a card, please?’
'Well, yes, and I have a birthmark too. Remind me to show it to you one of these days.’
He tittered politely like an aged uncle out to have fun with his sister’s young hopeful.
‘So many gentlemen of the Press have tried to see Mrs. Dedrick. We have to take precautions, sir.’
I had an idea I would be standing there till next summer if I didn’t show him my card, so I got out my bill- fold and showed him my card: the non-business one.
He stood aside.
‘Would you wait in the lounge, sir?’
I went into the room where Souki had been shot. The Mexican rug had been cleaned. There were no bodies lying about this evening to welcome me; no untouched whisky and soda, no cigarette stub to spoil the repaired surface of the table.
‘If you could sneak me a double Scotch with a lot of ice in it, I’d appreciate it.’
‘Certainly, sir.’
He drifted across the room to the sideboard on which stood a bottle of Haig and Haig, glasses, a bucket of ice and White-rock.
I listened attentively as he moved, but I couldn’t hear his bones creak. I was surprised. He looked old enough for them to squeak. But, old as he was, he was no slouch when it came to mixing a drink. He handed me one strong enough to tip over a pony and trap.
‘If you would care to look at some periodicals while you wait, sir, I will get some for you.’
I lowered myself into an easy chair that accepted me as if it was doing me a favour, stretched out my legs and balanced my drink carefully on the arm of the chair.
‘You think there’ll be a long wait?’ I asked.
‘I have no experience in these matters, sir, but it would seem likely they won’t communicate with us until it is dark.’ He stood before me, not unlike one of the flamingoes I had seen in the lower garden, and every inch of him
