Not My Thing

4

A few minutes before 22.00, Detective 1st Grade Tom Lepski walked into the Detectives’ room to find Sergeant Joe Beigler, the doyen of the Paradise City police force, reading through the afternoon’s crime sheet, a carton of coffee at hand and cigarette dangling from his lips.

‘Hi, Tom,’ he said, glancing up.

‘Anything for me?’ Lepski asked, sitting at his desk. He liked the 22.00 to 04.00 stint. It came around once a week, and there was usually more action during that period than during other stints.

‘Nothing for you, Tom,’ Beigler told him. ‘The usual small time stuff. Mostly kids: car stealing, stealing from shops. Right now, it is quiet.’

Lepski snorted.

‘Sometimes, Joe, I wonder about staying in this goddamn city. Here I am, the best detective on the force, and I rarely get a chance to reveal my talents.’

Beigler concealed a grin.

‘You never know, Tom. Something could come up, and then you’ll be in business.’

‘I want a full-blooded killing. I want a snatch. I want a big break-in. Something to get my teeth into.’

Beigler had heard this so often, he winced.

‘I’m just going through the unwanted visitors’ list. I see Lucky Lucan is in town.’

Lepski released a snort that would have startled a bison.

‘That creep! Man! Would I like to nail him! Where’s he staying?’

‘At the Star Motel. He believes in doing himself well.’

‘I would like to put him away for ten years!’

‘Look, Tom, don’t waste your energy. Lucan has a gold-plated racket. He preys on old, rich women and swindles them. We can’t do a thing unless these stupid randy old women make a complaint. Can you imagine them doing that?’

Again Lepski snorted.

‘He could slip up. I’m going to watch him. If there’s one creep in this city who deserves to be tossed in the slammer, it’s Lucan.’

Beigler was getting bored with this. To change the subject, he asked after Lepski’s wife. ‘How’s Carroll?’

‘Ah!’ Lepski pushed his hat to the back of his head and gave a hoot of laughter. ‘I’ll tell you, Joe. This afternoon, Carroll said she was going to give me a chicken dinner, but first I had to cut the goddamn lawn and wash the goddamn car. So, okay. I like chicken: finger-licking on the spit: very tasty, but Carroll had found a new recipe. Where the hell she finds these disasters beats me. No chicken on the spit. She was going to treat me to a real dinner. She explained the recipe. You cut the goddamn bird into pieces. You put red wine in a saucepan. You add onions and God knows what, then you cook the chicken in this. She said it would be terrific. So, okay, I went along, but I’d rather have had a chicken on the spit. So I cut the lawn and washed the car, while she spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen with the radio going full blast and she singing. I must admit when I went into the kitchen – what a godawful mess it was in – the smell was terrific. Now, I did a stupid thing. We were out of beer and cigarettes, so I drove down and got the stuff. I ran into Max, and we got talking, so I didn’t get back for over an hour.’ Lepski heaved a sigh. ‘Carroll has two big problems. First TV. She will look and watch the little white dots on the screen if the set breaks down. She’s an addict. Then she can’t resist a telephone call. All her friends keep calling her. So when I get back, Carroll is yakking with some girl friend who is asking her advice about a pain in her turn. If there’s one thing that Carroll loves it’s talking about health problems. She reads every goddamn woman’s magazine published: specializing on the health section. She’s known by her friends as Dr Lepski. You ask her: she has the answer. So there’s Carroll yakking and smoke coming out of the kitchen.’

‘These things happen,’ Beigler said who liked Carroll.

‘You’re right. No chicken dinner. We had cheeseburgers.’ Lepski gave a chortle. ‘Carroll was upset. I told her to relax. I said, like you’ve just said, that these things happen. Then I got a shade too smart. While we were chewing these godawful cheeseburgers, I thought I’d try and cheer her up. I said it would be a great idea if I retired from the force, and both of us set up a restaurant. She’d do the cooking, and I’d act as the front man.’ He gave a bellow of laughter. ‘Well, Carroll fell for this. She asked me if I really was serious. I said we could give it a try, and I had a great name for the restaurant,’ Again he became convulsed with laughter. When he had recovered, he went on, ‘I said the restaurant should be called ‘The Burnt Offering’.’

Beigler clapped his hand over his mouth to prevent from laughing. Trying to look grave, he said, ‘I bet Carroll didn’t dig that.’

‘You’re right.’ Lepski again bellowed with laughter. ‘The Burnt Offering. Not bad, Joe?’

‘How did Carroll react?’ Beigler asked, knowing Carroll’s temper.

Lepski grimaced.

‘Well, you know Carroll. She blew her stack. Another of Carroll’s problems is she doesn’t share my sense of humour. She stormed out of the house, shouting she was leaving me forever, got in her car and went off like a rocket.’

Beigler, who loved the chance of pulling Lepski’s leg, put on a worried expression.

‘That’s bad, Tom.’

Lepski stiffened, then alarm showed on his face.

‘You don’t mean she meant it, do you, Joe?’

‘Well that kind of joke isn’t in good taste,’ Beigler said. ‘She didn’t pack her clothes?’

Lepski came out in a sweat. He wiped his face with his handkerchief.

‘She just rushed out.’

‘Of course, once she knew you were here on duty, she could be packing and will leave you for good.’

‘She wouldn’t do that,’ Lepski said, mopping his face. ‘We love each other.’

Beigler heaved a dramatic sigh and looked mournful.

‘Well, Tom, take the advice of an unmarried man. That was a heartless joke. If you don’t want to be in the dog-house for months, you’ve got to placate Carroll. You’ve got to explain it was a thoughtless joke, and you are ashamed of yourself. Then you back that up with flowers – long-stemmed roses – a big box of candy and a big bottle of her favourite perfume. Do that, and you could just get off the hook.’

Lepski gaped at him.

‘Flowers? Candy? Perfume? All that costs money, Joe.’

‘Oh, sure,’ Beigler said with a smug smile. He loved spending other people’s money, ‘but then, you’ve had your fun, so you have to pay for it. Now, Tom, when you come off duty, you drive to the airport and get the stuff and, when Carroll wakes up, she’ll find all that luxury waiting for her. Get the idea? You will tell her how sorry you are. My bet is she’ll forgive you and she’ll cook for you again.’

‘Flowers… candy… perfume,’ Lepski muttered. ‘Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?’

He got to his feet and, with dragging steps, he left the Detectives’ room.

When Beigler was sure he was out of hearing, he exploded into a guffaw of laughter.

‘The Burnt Offering!’ he exclaimed. ‘I love it! This is too good to keep to myself! I must tell the boys! They’ll bust their guts!’

In a sour, vicious mood, Lepski drove to the Casino and parked. The Casino was a certain spot where action might happen. He felt in the mood to scare the crap out of the con-men and the card-sharpers who always frequented the Casino at this time. He hadn’t long to wait. He spotted Johnny Four Aces, a sleek Italian, whose reputation as a sharper was notorious. Lepski pounced on him and so frightened him, he returned to his car and drove away. Lepski found more successful pounces, scaring away more hopeful sharpers.

Then he saw Lucky Lucan come down the steps of the Casino.

Lepski gave a snort that made the birds in the palm trees flutter up in panic into the night sky. He strode up to Lucan, who was unlocking the door of his rented car.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing in this city?’ Lepski barked in his cop voice.

Lucan’s heart missed a beat. He turned and regarded Lepski. He knew him to be a tough, dangerous cop. This wasn’t the time to tangle with him.

‘Hello, there, Mr Lepski. Good to see you again,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘You’re looking well.’

‘Don’t feed me that crap!’ Lepski snarled. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Me? Getting a little sun, relaxing, a short vacation.’

‘Creeps like you are not wanted here,’ Lepski said. ‘Take a vacation some place else!’

Lucan pulled himself together. He was sure, during the next three weeks, when he would be working with Kling, he would meet again this bastard cop.

‘Is that official, Mr Lepski? You want me to take it up with the Mayor? Now listen, Mr Lepski, until you get a complaint about me, don^’t lean on me. I don’t appreciate it!’

He got in his car, started the engine and drove away.

Lepski watched him go, clenching and unclenching his fists, making a low growling noise that would have done credit on the sound track of a horror movie.

At 05.50, Lepski arrived back home. He took from his car gift-wrapped perfume and a big box of candy, plus twelve long-stemmed roses. He was still horrified at what this junk had cost him. He unlocked the front door, listened, then tiptoed into the living-room. He found a vase and put the roses in it, then put the candy and the perfume on the table where Carroll would see them the moment she came down stairs. He surveyed the scene. It looked pretty good. Well, maybe, he consoled himself, it was money well spent.

‘Is that you, Tom, dear?’

Carroll’s voice.

Lepski stiffened, then hurried into the lobby. There was Carroll, wearing a see-through night-dress, standing at the top of the stairs.

‘Poor Tom, you must be tired,’ she said. ‘Come on up. Let’s go to bed. We have lots and lots of time. Never mind coffee. Come on up!’

Lepski eyed Carroll, thinking she was really the most glamorous girl he knew. In a bewildered daze, he climbed the stairs, and Carroll put her arms around him and gave him a hug.

‘Do you forgive me?’ she asked. ‘I was sorry I got mad yesterday. I’m really sorry.’

‘I – I thought… ’ Lepski mumbled.

He was led into the bedroom.

‘Take a shower, pet.’ Carroll slid into bed. ‘Hurry.’

Lepski threw off his clothes.

‘I should apologize,’ he said, ‘I… ’

She burst out laughing.

‘Okay, so I was mad. I went to my club and told the girls. They just split their sides. ‘The Burnt Offering’. They loved it. They said it was the wittiest thing they had ever heard, and they are right. You are very clever, Tom. Who else but you would have thought of that?’

‘Yeah.’

Still walking in a daze, Lepski went into the bathroom and took a shower. As he stood under the flow of water, he thought of the money he had spent and the gifts downstairs.

But he forgot about that when he got into bed and Carroll wrapped him in her arms.

Ernie Kling lay full length on the comfortable settee in the well furnished living-room of his Star Motel’s cabin,

Seated near him in a lounging-chair was Lucky Lucan. At the far end of the room, sitting on a hard-backed chair, was Ng Vee, his expressionless eyes continually watching Lucan.

Kling and Lucan had gone through the chat about the trip from Washington, and how Kling had found Paradise City. He said it looked like his scene.

‘Yes,’ Lucan said. ‘You’ll love it. Well, Ernie, money first, huh?’ He picked up the briefcase that Jamison had given him. ‘I’ve got you four thousand dollars in cash to cover your immediate expenses.’ He had removed a thousand dollars from the briefcase for himself. ‘Okay?’

‘If it’s for immediate expenses, I’m not squealing.’

‘That’s what it’s for.’ Lucan handed the briefcase to Kling.

Kling said, ‘Hey kid, stash this away somewhere safe.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Ng said and, taking the briefcase, he left the room.

‘Who the hell’s that chink?’ Lucas asked, lowering his voice.

‘Don’t get your lines crossed, Lucky. He’s Vietnamese, and he’s my partner.’

Lucan frowned.

‘I didn’t know you used a partner.’

‘I do now, and let me tell you something. He is fifty times the man you are or ever will be. Remember that. Never tangle with him. He’s deadly.’

Lucan moved uneasily.

‘Okay.’

‘Right. Now what’s the caper about?’

‘A rich man wants to get rid of his wife,’ Lucan said. ‘She’s a strict RC and won’t give him a divorce. They can’t produce kids and that’s what he wants. He’s found a woman, and now wants to marry her, so he wants his wife knocked off. That’s the story.’

Kling lay still, slightly resembling a deadly snake, basking in the sun, then he nodded.

‘Sounds okay. So this creep will pay me three hundred thousand for getting rid of his wife?’

‘That’s it,’ Lucan said, uneasily. ‘There are conditions.’

Kling smiled evilly.

‘There always are. So…?’

‘A perfect job. No blow-back. No cops. A lethal accident.’

‘There’s never a blow-back when I do a job. Okay, tell this creep I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him how I’ll handle the job. I’ll want information about his wife.’

Lucan blotted his forehead with his handkerchief.

‘No, Ernie. He insists on dealing with only me as a go-between. That’s the last thing I want, but the deal isn’t on unless he deals with me.’

‘Why?’ Kling asked, now alert.

‘Well, he wants to remain anonymous until he is sure you come up with the perfect method.’

‘Sort of playing cagey, huh?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who is this guy, Lucky?’

‘I’ve asked around and through my connections which cost me, Ernie, I… ’

‘Cut out the crap, Lucky!’ Kling snarled. ‘Who is he?’

‘Sherman Jamison.’

Kling sat bolt upright, swinging his long legs off the settee.

‘You mean the Sherman Jamison?’

‘Is there another?’

Kling lay back, lit a cigarette and stared up at the ceiling. He remained motionless for some minutes, then he smiled.

‘So Jamison wants to get rid of his wife. Man! Is this a nice, tasty dish!’

Lucan didn’t say anything. He waited.

Kling thought, then he said, ‘You know this guy’s worth billions?’

Lucan licked his dry lips.

‘I believe so.’

‘Right. He and I are going to meet. This isn’t your thing, Lucky. This is between men. You’ve now got to fix I meet Jamison. You have to find out where he goes so I can meet him. Tell him I need information about his wife. Fix a meeting, then I’ll be there instead of you.’

‘It won’t work, Ernie. He’s too smart. He comes here, takes me in his car to a beach to talk. This guy is VIP and very dangerous.’

‘So, okay, he’s dangerous.’ Kling grinned. ‘I like dangerous guys. What’s he paying you, Lucky?’

‘I get a cut off yours,’ Lucan said uneasily. ‘He’s tight about money.’

Kling smiled again.

‘So I pay you, huh?’

‘I thought ten per cent would be fair.’

Kling burst out laughing.

‘You kill me! You’re so small-time, I’m almost sorry for you. Well, okay, you tell him I’ve got a perfect plan cooking, but I need information about his wife. Then fix another meeting. This time I’ll take over.’ He slid off the settee and walked to the table where he found paper and pencil. He wrote rapidly while Lucan, his heart thumping, watched him. Finally, Kling handed the sheet of paper to Lucan.

‘Those are the questions I want answered. Then tell him in two days’ time, you’ll tell him how I’ll get rid of his wife: a perfect job. Fix a meeting, then I’ll take over. Got it?’

‘I’d rather duck out of this, Ernie,’ Lucan said, taking the paper, folding it without reading what Kling had written and put it in his pocket. ‘Suppose you pay me off, and you handle Jamison? This isn’t my thing.’

As he got to his feet, Kling patted his shoulder.

‘Relax, Lucky. You’re now in the big league. If you want thirty thousand bucks, you’ve got to earn it. Run away, and get things fixed. There’ll be no problems.’

His hard hand still on Lucan’s shoulder, he steered him out of the cabin.

‘Bye now,’ he said, and shoved Lucan into the hot sunlight.

Ng came from the kitchen.

‘I don’t trust that man, sir,’ he said quietly.

‘That makes two of us,’ Kling said. ‘But he’s money-greedy. Let’s go take a swim.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Changed into swimming-trunks, they walked together to the sea.

‘If Lucan gets tricky, we can always fix him, can’t we, kid?’

Ng looked up at Kling with an adoring smile.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said.

The killer and the youth ran into the sea.

Jamison, in the rented Mercedes, pulled up outside the Star Motel at exactly 11.00. He paid no attention to the tall, lean, grey-haired man who was lying on a sun-lounge chair outside a cabin some yards from Lucan’s cabin. He was unaware that Kling was studying him behind his black sun-goggles.

Lucan hurried from his cabin and got into the Mercedes.

‘Good-morning, sir,’ he said, nervously.

Jamison was in a sour mood. He had talked to Tarnia on the telephone, telling her he wanted to drive her to the Miami airport to catch her Rome flight, but she firmly refused.

‘No, Sherry. The less we are seen together, for the moment, the better. I’m still thinking of that dreadful man, Drysdale. How I wish he hadn’t seen us together.’

‘Come on, darling,’ Jamison said impatiently. ‘Forget him. He knows he dare not print a word about you or me. Well, all right, if I can’t see you off, I’ll be thinking of you every minute. I understand. And, my darling, when you return, I feel absolutely sure, you will be Mrs Sherman Jamison in six months’ time.’

‘When you say you are absolutely sure, I believe you,’ Tarnia said. ‘I’ll telephone you as soon as I arrive in Rome. I must go. I have so much yet to do. ‘Bye, darling,’ and she hung up.

Jamison had replaced the telephone receiver thoughtfully. He was offering to make Tarnia one of the most important, richest women in the world, who would share his life, who would give him a son, who he loved. Yet, her voice had no happy lilt, no enthusiasm. All she was now thinking of was this gaddamn dress show!

So he was in a sour mood when Lucan slid into the car by his side. He said nothing, staring ahead, driving fast, until they reached the beach. Then he stopped the car and turned to face Lucan.

‘Tell me!’ he barked.

Lucan found he was terrified of this man who was staring at him with hard, ice-cold, probing eyes. God! he thought, how I wish I hadn’t got into this thing!

‘I’ve talked to Kling,’ he said, his voice unsteady. ‘He tells me there is no problem. First, he needs information about your wife, sir.’

‘What information?’ Jamison demanded.

‘He is a perfectionist, sir. When he does this kind of job, there are no blow-backs, but he needs a week at least to study the situation before deciding the best and safest way to do the job.’

Jamison grunted.

‘Understood. So…?’

‘He needs to know if your wife has any boyfriends.’

‘She has not!’ Jamison snarled, wishing she had.

‘Has she friends she meets regularly?’

‘Not regularly, but she has a number of friends, like her, interested in music, who she meets from time to time.’

‘Does she have any set routine?’

‘What does that mean?’

‘People often do the same thing regularly every day: like walking a dog, going to the club…’

Jamison nodded.

‘She goes to Mass every morning at eight o’clock. She returns for breakfast, swims an hour, then returns to play her cello. Usually, she lunches at home. She is fond of riding. She takes her horse out onto the beach for an hour or so where friends join her. In the evening, she attends concerts or plays herself at concerts. That seems to be her life.’

Jesus! Lucan thought as he scribbled the answers. What a dreary life!

‘Is she a good swimmer, sir?’

‘Excellent.’

‘Rides well?’

‘Very well.’

Lucan thought, then he said, ‘The hit could be when she came out of church. Would you object to that?’

Jamison stared at him.

‘Why should I? She is near to God then, but I can’t see…’ He shrugged.

What a man! Lucan thought. What a savage! What some men will contemplate to get their own way!

‘I want a decisive answer by tomorrow, Lucan. If I am not satisfied, then I will drop the project. Tomorrow, at your motel at eleven o’clock. Understand?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Lucan said, flinching away from this man whom he now regarded as a monster.

Jamison grunted, started the engine and drove in silence back to the Star Motel. He pulled up, nodded, then, when Lucan got out of the car, he drove away.

Kling, still lolling in the sun-lounge chair, got up and walked into his cabin. Lucan followed him.

When the door was shut, Kling asked, ‘How did it go?’

Lucan sat down and mopped his face.

‘What a swine that man is!’ he exclaimed. ‘Ernie, I could use a drink.’

Ng appeared out of the kitchen, poured two big Scotches, handed one to Lucan and the other to Kling, then disappeared.

‘Take it easy, Lucan. Any creep who plans to have his wife murdered is a swine.’ Kling sat on the settee. ‘Don’t get worked up. Have you the facts I want?’

‘Yes.’ Lucan handed over his notes, then drank the Scotch greedily. ‘I’ll be glad to be shot of this! This is just not my thing.’

‘Shut your mouth!’ Kling said curtly. He studied what Lucan had written, then nodded to himself. ‘You know, Lucky, when people keep to a routine, it is dead easy. No problem here. When do you meet Mr Big again?’

‘He’s coming at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.’

‘Okay. You take it easy, Lucky. When I need you, I’ll call you. From now on, for the next day or so, you’re out of the photo. Understand?’

‘If you say so.’ Lucan got to his feet. ‘I leave it to you, Ernie, but don’t forget this sonofabitch is dangerous.’

Kling smiled.

‘So am I,’ he said, and smiled again.

Smyth had seen Shannon return from morning Mass, and he quickly prepared her simple breakfast.

As he entered her living-room, to find her standing before the open French windows, he said, ‘Your breakfast is served, madam.’

She turned and smiled at him.

‘Thank you, Smyth,’ and she came to the table.

‘I trust the concert was a great success, madam.’

‘I think it was or else people were very kind.’ She smiled again. ‘Playing before friends is very different from playing before a critical audience.’

‘Yes, madam. I understand that. I would have liked to have attended.’

‘I know.’ She waited until he had poured the coffee, then she went on, ‘There was a tape, Smyth. I got a copy for you.’ She waved to her desk. ‘Take it, and, when you have time, do listen. I value your opinion.’

His face lit up.

‘You couldn’t be kinder, madam. Thank you.’

He found the tape, bowed and withdrew.

At least, one, real faithful friend, Shannon thought. She spent some time sipping coffee and thinking, feeling in a depressed mood. Friends? she thought. Not real friends. The people she mixed with were so obviously aware that she was the wife of this powerful rich tycoon. They were, of course, music-lovers, but if she had been plain Mrs Joe Doe would they bother to come to the concert hall to hear her play? She thought not. Plain Mrs Doe would be just another amateur cellist. Then she thought of Jay and Meg Wilbur. They were true friends. She recalled their warm congratulations last night. She had known from the pleasure on their faces how much her music had meant to them. Yes, her real friends!

She needed so badly to talk about Sherman, and who better than Meg who, she knew, would move cautiously, consult Jay, then give sound advice.

Shannon got to her feet and walked over to the French windows. If she left Sherman, half her way of life would come to an end, but the remaining half could be much more alive. She would no longer be the Mrs Sherman Jamison with servants, two luxury homes, no money problems, and with a captive audience to listen to her cello playing. If she separated from Sherman, the snobs would drift away. Although Sherman would have to provide for her, her present life-style would come to an end.

Would she mind? she asked herself.

She felt she needed to talk to Meg before making up her mind. This was a weakness, she told herself. She should be able to decide for herself, but this would be an enormous step.

Still thinking, she undressed and walked, naked, into the bathroom and looked at herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Her reflection gave her confidence. God! If only I could have children! she thought. My body is good enough to keep any man attentive, but not Sherman.

Bitterly, she turned away, put on her swim-suit and went down for her morning swim.

At 07.50, the following morning, Ernie Kling did something he had never done before in his evil life.

Dressed in a dark grey suit, wearing dark sun-goggles, he mounted the steps that led to the Church of the Blessed Virgin, entered the big church and took a seat where he could observe and not be seen.

An altar boy was lighting candles. A concealed organ was playing Bach. Incense hung in the air. There were already a number of people sitting in the front pews: mostly elderly women with a scattering of elderly men.

Kling regarded the scene with cynical eyes. He waited patiently, like a coiled snake. Then he saw Shannon Jamison come down the aisle. He recognized her from Lucan’s description and eyed her. Some woman! he thought. He liked her tall, upright figure and the way she moved. With her was a bulky man with flaming red hair who saw her to her seat in a pew, then took a seat away from her.

Kling sat through the service, observing the fat, pleasant-looking priest who officiated. He watched Shannon go up to the altar rails and again nodded his approval.

The service over, Kling still remained seated. He watched the congregation leave, pausing at the doorway of the church to shake hands with the priest. He watched Shannon’s smile as she paused for a moment to say something to the priest before moving on. He watched the red-haired bulky man grip the priest’s hand firmly and say something, then hurry after Shannon.

Kling got to his feet and walked towards the priest as he turned.

‘Fine service, Father,’ he said. The priest regarded him.

‘This must be your first visit, my friend,’ he said. ‘I am good at remembering faces.’

‘That’s right. I’m on vacation,’ Kling said. ‘I like to attend church when I can. I don’t often get the chance. It’s good to see you have such an attendance. These days…’ He shrugged.

‘We have our faithful,’ the priest said. ‘I wish more of the young would come. We have a better attendance on Sunday.’

‘I seem to recognize that gentleman with the red hair,’ Kling said.

‘Mr O’Neil. He is the Irish representative to the United Nations. He is here for a brief vacation, and attends Mass every morning. A fine man.’

‘Of course.’ Kling nodded. ‘I have seen his photograph in the papers. Well, Father, have a nice day.’ He shook hands. ‘I’ll be seeing you.’

‘God go with you, my friend,’ the priest said.

Stupid, fat old fool, Kling thought as he ran down the steps to where he had parked his car. He then drove to the beach where Jamison and Lucan held their talks. At that hour the beach was deserted. Kling walked around, found what he hoped to find and then drove back to the Star Motel.

At 10.30, Lucan came to Kling’s cabin. Kling could see he was in a nervous state.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Lucky, relax,’ he said. ‘Hey, kid, give this guy a stiff drink.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Ng said, and quickly produced a double Scotch and soda.

‘Now, Lucky, this is going to be dead easy,’ Kling said, lighting a cigarette. ‘No problems for you. All you have to do is to go with Jamison to the beach. I’ll be there. When Jamison pulls up, you slide out of the car, fast. I’ll take your place. You head for a big clump of shrubs on your right. The kid will be there, and will take you to where we’ve hidden my car. I’ll talk to Jamison and sell him my idea. From what you tell me, he’ll fall for it.’

Lucan lost colour.

‘I don’t like this, Ernie. Jamison warned me he would fix me if I played tricky. With his clout, he will fix me!’

Kling grinned.

‘He can’t, Lucky. Use what brains you have. What can he do to you? We have him in a squeeze. He knows that if he tries to put the heat on you, you can tell the press he tried to hire you to murder his wife. So okay, he’ll deny it. He might threaten to sue, but he won’t. Once the press get on to this that he wanted to get rid of his wife so badly he’ll pay someone to murder her, he’ll never dare get rid of her. So he’s stuck with her for life unless he plays along with us. Get it?’

Wiping his sweating face, Lucan nodded.

‘I hadn’t thought about that. But, Ernie, this is not my thing. I wish I hadn’t listened to that sonofabitch.’

‘Oh, pipe down! Do you or don’t you want to pick up an easy thirty thousand?’

Lucan gulped down the Scotch. His greed overcame his caution.

‘Well, okay, Ernie. I’m relying on you.’

‘So, do just what I’ve told you,’ Kling said. ‘I’ll handle the rest.’ He got to his feet. ‘The kid and I are now going to the beach meeting-place. Just leave it to me.’

When Kling and Ng had driven away, Lucan returned to his cabin. He had another stiff Scotch, then, feeling fortified, and almost reckless, he walked out into the hot sunshine to wait for Jamison to arrive.