‘He’s gone at a convenient time—for himself.’
She moved to the terrace window and stared out into the garden.
‘You have no idea why he went to see her, have you?’
‘No.’
‘You can’t even guess?’
‘No.’
I joined her at the window.
‘Mrs. Dedrick, there’s a question I would like to ask you.’
She continued to stare out of the window. The flamingoes were looking towards the house, stiff, upright and crochety.
‘Well?’
‘Do you think Nick Perelli kidnapped your husband?’
‘Of course.’
‘Why of course? Why so sure?’
She made an impatient movement.
‘I don’t wish to talk about it. If there is nothing else you want, perhaps you will excuse me.’
‘I don’t think Perelli kidnapped him,’ I said. ‘Has it occurred to you that your father has a very sound motive for getting rid of your husband?’
She turned swiftly. Her face had drained of colour. Fear looked at me out of her big eyes.
‘How dare you! I won’t listen to you. You have no right to come here making insinuations and asking questions. I shall complain to the police.’
She went out of the room. She was crying as she mounted the stairs.
I stood there, brooding out into the twilight. Why had she been frightened? Did she know for certain that Marshland had engineered the kidnapping?
A faint cough behind me made me turn.
Wadlock was waiting at the door.
I crossed the room, paused before him.
‘Apparently Mr. Marshland has gone off to Europe,’ I said.
The old eyes were expressionless as he said, ‘Apparently, sir.’
‘Was it Souki who told you about Dedrick or did you find out for yourself—that he was a reefer- smuggler?’
I got past his guard, as I meant to. It was a shame to do it to him; he was a little too old to control his reflexes, but I wanted to know.
His mouth fell open and his eyes popped.
‘Why, Souki told me…’
He stopped; a little late. A faint flush rose to his face: but he was too old to be really angry.
‘Your hat, sir.’
I took it and slapped it on the back of my head.
‘Sorry about that,’ I said, and meant it. ‘Think no more about it’
He closed the door behind me. Looking back, I could see him watching me through the glass panels. I felt he was still watching me by the time I reached the end of the terrace.
If Souki had told him, Souki had also told Marshland. I wasn’t getting ahead very fast, but I was making progress. I got into the Buick, started the engine and stared across the garden at the Pacific. I couldn’t go on like this. I would have to do something that would bring the secrets out into the open. But what?
I lit a cigarette and flicked the match out of the car. Then I drove slowly down the private road, thinking.
Perelli had told Francon he was playing card with Joe Betillo at Delmonico’s bar on the night of the kidnapping. He had said he left Betillo at ten-thirty. Betillo had said it was nine-thirty. Why? Was Betillo in this or was bribed. If who was bribed, who had bribed him? The evening was before me. Maybe it might be a good idea to check Perelli’s alibi. I was in the mood for trouble. Two girls had been murdered this day. A tall, unknown gentleman in sunglasses had tried to lay me among the sweet peas. The fourth richest woman in the world had told me a number of lies. It might be an idea to top off the day with a visit to Delmonico’s Bar, the toughest dive on the Coast.
I felt in the mood to be tough. I decided to go there.
II
Paula’s cool voice floated over the line: ‘Good evening. Universal Services.’
‘Are you all alone there?’ I asked, pushing my hat to the back of my head and wiping my forehead. The call- box was as hot as a circus tent, and the last occupant had fallen in a vat of Night and Day, the aristocrat of perfumes, to judge by the smell she had left behind
‘Oh, Vic; yes, I’m alone. How did you get on?’
‘Nothing to get excited about. Promise me something, will you?’
‘What?’
‘Never wear Night and Day perfume. It’s horrible stuff.’
‘Why bring that up? I wouldn’t wear it if they gave it to me.’
‘That’s fine. This call-box stinks of it. I’m feeling stifled.’
‘What happened, Vic?’
‘Marshland has suddenly rushed off on a vacation in Europe. That’s what Serena tells me. It’s my bet he was lurking upstairs somewhere, probably biting his nails. I told her he was possibly at the bottom of the kidnapping. She chucked an ingbing and ran off, piping her eye.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Well, she looked scared. I think she’s thought that all along. These rich, well-connected families have a horror of being lagged out of their shells. The butler was revealing too. Nice old boy: one of the old school. I jumped him about Souki, and before he could stop himself he admitted Souki had told him Dedrick was a smuggler. How do you like that?’
‘It doesn’t help Perelli very much, does it?’
‘You’re quite right It doesn’t help him a bit. I’m going to do something about him right now. There’s a small point you might take care of. Will you send a cable to Jack and tell him what I’ve found cut about Dedrick? Tell him to get hustling.’
Paula said she would get the cable off right away.
‘When you’ve done that, shut up and go home.’ I told her.
‘What are you doing ?’
‘I’m digging a little more. The night’s young yet.’
‘Don’t be reckless, will you, Vic?’
I said I’d handle myself as carefully as I’d handle a Ming vase, and hung up before she could ask any more questions.
I got into the Buick again and drove to Monte Verde Avenue. No. 245 was, as Myra Toresca had said, a small, painted bungalow with crazy paving where the garden should have been and a high, overgrown hedge to foil inquisitive neighbours.
I parked the Buick outside, pushed open the low wooden gate and walked up the path. A light showed in one of the windows; a shadow crossed the blind as I rapped on the front door.
The door opened a few inches. Myra asked, ‘Who is it?’
‘Malloy.’
She slid off the chain, opened the door. The passage behind her was dark.
‘Come in. I was wondering when you were coming.’
I followed her into the lighted sitting-room. I was surprised to see her taste ran to frilly cushions, china
