The Paw in the Bottle

I

From the moment she had met Wesley in the lobby of the Piccadilly Hotel, Julie had been acutely uncomfortable. And she had been so looking forward to this outing. Up to the moment of meeting him the afternoon had promised well. She was excited and was wearing her smartest outfit. She had had the excitement of making sure Theo wasn’t following her; and dodging from bus to taxi had added spice to what she imagined was going to be a thrilling afternoon. But she had not anticipated how embarrassing it would be to go out with a man who appeared blind. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Wesley had been blind, but knowing he was pretending she was embarrassed by the way people looked at him, made way for him and even offered to help him. There had been a long queue for a taxi outside the hotel, but immediately Wesley appeared, his hand on Julie’s arm, the commissionaire had insisted he should go to the head of the queue, and no one in the queue had raised an objection.

It seemed to Julie, who was a little superstitious, that it was wicked of Wesley to act in this way. She had an uneasy feeling that God would suddenly rise up in wrath and strike him blind to teach him a lesson.

As the taxi drew away, Wesley seemed to sense her embarrassment, and smiling said: ‘Poor Julie; I’m afraid you’re very uncomfortable. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.’

‘But must you do it?’ she asked angrily. ‘Isn’t it unfair?’

‘When you play a part, Julie, you must be thorough,’ he returned, a sudden sharp note in his voice. ‘If we are to get along together you must accept me as you find me.’

Nothing further was said until the taxi driver drew up outside Fowler & Freebody, Estate Agents, in Duke Street.

Mr. Fowler appeared in person and took them into his office.

Wesley explained what he wanted, and Julie caught Mr. Fowler’s startled glance. She saw at once he guessed what was in the wind, and hated him for the shocked expression that jumped into his eyes. But he produced particulars of two flats that he thought might possibly suit. One of them was in Berkeley Square and the other in Vigo Street.

They took a taxi and saw both flats. Julie immediately fell in love with the Vigo Street flat. The bedroom, Julie thought, was too elegant for words. There were silver stars painted on the dark blue ceiling and a pink-tinted mirror covered the whole of one of the long walls.

Wesley stood quietly by the door while Julie examined the room. They were alone and he had taken off his glasses. There was a cynical expression in his eyes as he watched her run excitedly backwards and forwards, through to the bathroom that delighted her and back to the bedroom again.

‘I think it’s marvellous,’ she exclaimed. ‘Much better than that stuffy old place in Berkeley Square.’

‘So long as you’re pleased, Julie. But I think this is cheap and ghastly,’ Wesley said, shrugging. ‘It’s a tart’s place. Julie.’

‘I don’t care!’ she snapped, reddening. ‘I want it.’

He studied her for a moment, then shrugged.

‘All right, Julie, if you want it, have it.’

She was angry with him now. He had taken the gilt off the gingerbread by his criticism. A tart’s place! What did he know about tarts! It was lovely. The stars on the ceiling were marvellous. Lying in bed, she could imagine she was looking at the sky. Well, he wasn’t going to spoil her pleasure. She had to live in it. If he didn’t like it, he could stay away.

‘Yes, I want it,’ she said.

‘Then we’ll go back to the agents and fix it up.’

When they had left the estate agents, Wesley gave her the front door key.

‘There you are, Julie. The key to your new home. I hope you will be very happy there.’

She took the key without a word of thanks. She was still angry with him.

‘Now, I suppose I’d better get you some clothes,’ he told her. ‘Those days are over for you. No more Bridge Cafés, Harry Glebs or the Black Market for you. You understand that, don’t you?’

‘I suppose so,’ she said reluctantly. He was right. She would never again be able to meet any of the old gang. Sooner or later the word would get around that she had talked. They wouldn’t want her once they knew that.

He bought her clothes that astonished her. They were severe and plain and beautifully tailored. She didn’t like them, wanting something flamboyant, like the lovely clothes Blanche wore, but Wesley didn’t even consult her, and she had to admit when she studied herself in the mirror that she looked awfully smart and sophisticated. Wesley’s approving nod, when the fitter had gone from the room, pleased her.

But when he bought her a mink coat her rapture knew no bounds, and she immediately forgave him for his criticism of the fiat. She wanted to wear it at once, but he gave instructions for the clothes and the coat to be sent on Saturday afternoon to the Vigo Street flat.

‘It’ll be something for you to look forward to,’ he said as they left the building. ‘And now I must get back to the factory. I hope you had a nice afternoon, Julie.’

The gift of the mink coat had so thrilled her that she wanted to be nice to him. She was well aware that when a man gave a girl a costly present like that he expected payment, and she was ready to give payment.

‘Wouldn’t you like to come back to my flat, Howard?’ she asked, and gave him an inviting look.

He gave her a quick, startled glance, smiling uneasily and patted her arm.

‘Not now, Julie. I must get back to work. Good-bye,’ and he climbed quickly into the waiting taxi, which drove away, leaving her staring after it.

‘The damned stuffed shirt,’ she thought angrily. ‘All right, if he doesn’t want me, I don’t care. I won’t be so free next time. When he’s in the mood, I won’t be.’

The plain-clothes detective, who had patiently followed them all the afternoon, was relieved to see Wesley go. The afternoon had been an exhausting one, and he was anxious to return to headquarters and make his report.

‘Now I wonder what his little game is,’ he said to himself as he set off after Julie. ‘Looks as if he’s setting her up in a love nest.’ He studied Julie’s slim legs as she hurried along in front of him and sighed. ‘Can’t say I blame him. For a blind man, he’s certainly picked himself a nice piece.’

Julie, unaware she was being followed, headed for Piccadilly. The evening was before her. She felt in the mood to celebrate.

II

You could get a drink at the Harlequin Club at any hour of the day or night if you didn’t object to paying treble the usual price for it.

Harry Gleb had just come from Mrs. French’s office and he felt in need of a drink. The final details of the robbery had been arranged and he had left Mrs. French and Theo together to discuss the type of car to be used. The more Harry thought about the coming robbery the less he liked it.

‘I’ve got cold feet,’ he thought, as he climbed the stairs that led to the club. ‘That’s what’s wrong with me. Well, this is the last job I’ll pull; anyway for some time. I’ve had about enough of it.’

He entered the gaudy little lounge, nodded to the gimlet-eyed doorkeeper and went straight to the bar. At this hour — it was a few minutes past four-thirty — there were in the bar only tarts sitting on stools, sipping whisky, and an elderly man in a corner, reading the evening paper, a plain gin on the table before him.

The barman brightened when he saw Harry. He was bored with talking to the tarts, and hoped Harry would be more entertaining. But Harry wasn’t in a talkative mood. He ordered a double whisky, grunted when the barman tried to engage him in conversation, and moved away from the bar to sit in solitude at a table by the window.

He was thinking of Julie. All night he had thought of her, and a sleepless night didn’t agree with him. He wanted her; wanted her as he had never wanted any other woman before.

‘I was a mug to have mixed her up in this business,’ he told himself. ‘If I’d’ve kept her clear of it there’d’ve been no trouble with her. And as soon as I’d picked up the dough we could have hopped on a boat and started a nice little honeymoon in the States. Now, I’ve got my work cut out to win her round. Don’t see how I’m going to do it. We’re doing the job to-morrow, and I’ll have to keep clear of her from then on. The cops’ll be watching her night and day.’ He sipped his whisky and brooded. ‘All very well for Ma French to say leave her in the flat. But it’s cock-eyed, that’s what it is; cock-eyed. The thing to do is to take her with me; hide with her somewhere until things cool off a bit, and then slip out of the country.’ He frowned out of the window. ‘But will she come with me? If she doesn’t, what’s she going to do?’ He finished his whisky and was about to order another when he remembered that today was Julie’s afternoon off. ‘Now I wonder what she’s up to,’ he thought. ‘Mooching round the West End looking at the shops, I’ll bet a dollar. Maybe I’ll run into her if I have a look round.’ He pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘That’s what I’ll do. I’ll have a look for her. Maybe I can persuade her to see reason.’

Nodding to the barman, he left the club and, reaching Piccadilly, began to walk slowly towards Park Lane. He walked as far as Hyde Park Corner, then retraced his steps. As he was passing the Berkeley Hotel he spotted her across the street, walking towards the Circus.

‘That’s what I call a real bit of luck,’ he said to himself. ‘I knew she’d be around here somewhere. Pretty kid; looks as smart as paint.’ He grinned to himself, aware of a surge of excitement going through him. ‘Blimey!’ he thought. ‘I’ve got it bad. Wouldn’t have thought I’d ever chase after a bride like this; shows what love can do to a fella.’

He darted across the road as soon as the traffic began to slow down for the traffic lights, and hurried along behind Julie. The plain-clothes detective, who was tiring rapidly of following Julie, recognized Harry and whistled softly.

‘Now where did he spring from and what’s he want?’ he wondered and dropped behind, letting Harry go on ahead of him.

Harry was too intent on pursuing Julie to notice the detective. He overtook Julie as she waited to cross the Circus.

‘Hello, kid,’ he said, raising his hat. ‘I want to talk to you. There’s been a change of plan.’

Julie started, looked angrily at him.

‘Well, I don’t want to talk to you,’ she snapped. ‘Go away.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Harry returned, taking her arm. ‘This is business. Come on, I’ve got to talk to you. There’s a club round the corner where we won’t be disturbed.’

Julie hesitated. If Mrs. French had decided to postpone the attempt she would have to warn Wesley.

‘Oh, all right then,’ she said crossly, and went with him along Regent Street.

Neither of them said anything further. Julie didn’t want to talk to him. Meeting him had spoilt her plans for the evening. She had decided to go to a cinema and have supper down West before returning to Park Way. She didn’t want company. She wanted to dream about her new home and her mink coat.

When they entered the Harlequin Club, which was empty now, Harry asked her what she would like to drink.

‘Nothing,’ she said shortly, and sat down at a corner table. ‘I don’t want anything from you.’

He pulled a face, went over to the bar and ordered a double whisky which he brought to the table.

‘Julie, you’re not still mad with me, are you?’ he asked, sitting down opposite her. ‘I’m sorry this business ever started, but we can’t back out now.’

She made an impatient movement.

‘You said you wanted to talk business. Say what you want to say and let me go.’

He studied her and, seeing the cold, unfriendly look in her eyes, realized she didn’t love him anymore. The discovery deflated him.

‘It’s about leaving you at the flat when the job’s done,’ he said uneasily. ‘I don’t like it, kid. It’s not safe. I want you to come away with me. We’ll hide up somewhere and then hop a boat to the States.’

She stared at him as though she thought he were mad.

‘I’m not frightened of being left,’ she said sharply. ‘And I’m certainly not going with you. I told you last night, I don’t want anything more to do with you.’

‘Now look, Julie,’ he said, shifting forward on his seat. ‘I’ve got you into this mess. I want to get you out of it. I’m crazy about you, kid. Honest; I wouldn’t be crawling like this if I wasn’t serious. I love you. I’d do anything for you. If I leave you in the flat the cops will be all over you. They’ll pin something on you when they know you worked for Hewart.

Even if they don’t, what are you going to do? You can’t live on three quid a week. Come with me and I’ll give you a smashing time. Look, I’m sick of this life. I only want a bit more money and I’ll be in the clear. After this job, I’m through. I’m going straight and I want you with me. Honest, Julie, I love you so much I can’t live without you.’

It wasn’t what he said, but the way he said it that impressed her; and suddenly she turned sick and cold because she realized something she had refused to realize before. She had once loved him; had given herself to him; and now she was planning to betray him to the police. While she had been frightened it had seemed completely unreal: planning something that wouldn’t happen. But now, seeing him before her, hearing him say he loved her and knowing that before long he would be in the hands of the police brought the facts home to her like a blow in the face. For a brief moment she nearly blurted out the truth; nearly told him she had given him away to the police, but the thought of Theo stopped her. There was no turning back. If she admitted that she had told the police, Theo would come after her. There would be no safety for her now until the whole gang was under lock and key.

‘No!’ she said wildly. ‘I wouldn’t ever go with you. But, Harry, I’m warning you; don’t do it. Go away before it’s too late. You won’t get away with it. I know you won’t. Please — please don’t go through with it!’ And before he could stop her she had jumped to her feet and darted to the door.

Harry stared after her, a cold tingle going up his spine. Then he kicked back his chair and rushed after her. He caught her on the stairs and grabbed hold of her.

‘Julie! What do you mean? What do you know?’

She tried to wrench herself free, but he pulled her round so he could look into her eyes.

‘You haven’t talked, have you?’ he demanded, shaking her. ‘You haven’t squealed?’

‘Oh, no,’ she gasped, suddenly frightened of him. ‘It’s just I... I’m scared. It’s too dangerous. I feel it won’t come off.’ Then, as his suspicious eyes searched her face, she exclaimed, ‘Let go of me! Do you hear? Let me go!’

‘Hey, miss, is this fella annoying you?’ asked a hard voice from the bottom of the stairs.

They looked into the lobby. A big man in a slouch hat and raincoat was looking up at them. Harry recognized him as a plain-clothes man from Savile Row station and he hurriedly released Julie.

‘It’s all right,’ Julie said, scared. She ran down the stairs, passed the detective and on into the street.

‘Watch it, fella,’ the detective said to Harry. ‘Or you and me’ll take a little walk.’

Harry said, ‘I’ll watch it,’ and went back into the club.

III

While Harry was trying to persuade Julie that he loved her, Mrs. French was discussing the last details of the robbery with Theo. She was sitting at her desk by the window. The waning sunlight reflected on her ear-rings, making dancing patterns on her blotter.

Theo sprawled in the arm-chair facing her, his furry hat crushed down over his ears. He never seemed conscious of his looks. It didn’t cross his mind that he could improve his appearance if he made an effort. He seemed to go out of his way to make himself look as moronic and hideous as he could. Sitting there, his ears bent down under the hat, a long greasy strand of hair across his eyes, a sullen, hateful expression on his fat, spotty face, he looked like an exaggerated cartoon of a gangster.

Mrs. French had already arranged about what car should be used for the robbery, and now a sudden silence fell between them. Mrs. French brooded out of the window, a cold look in her eyes. Theo picked his nose, twisting his mouth out of shape as he dug a dirty finger-nail into his nostril.

‘There’s nothing else, is there?’ Mrs. French asked suddenly without looking round.

Theo grinned to himself.

‘There’s the girl — Julie Whatshername,’ he said, and stretched his legs out and regarded his dusty shoes thoughtfully. ‘Harry’s soft on her.’

‘I wonder if she’ll talk.’ Mrs. French said as if she were thinking aloud. ‘This is a big job. It’ll be worth eight thousand apiece. If she talks...’

‘You’re not going over all that again, are you?’ Theo asked sharply. ‘I said I’d fix her: I will.’

Mrs. French watched a car draw away from the kerb opposite. The girl who was driving had a cigarette-holder nearly a foot long clenched between her teeth. Mrs. French thought she looked ridiculous.

‘But now Harry’s gone soft on her I’ll need help,’ Theo went on.

Mrs. French turned her head, surveyed him with bleak eyes.

‘What kind of help?’

‘The way I figure it,’ Theo said, ‘is like this.’ As he spoke, he undid his waistcoat, pushed his hand through the opening of his shirt and scratched his ribs viciously. ‘Harry pulls the job and sends the furs down to me by the service lift. Then he ties the girl up and leaves her. He comes down the front way with the sparklers. I’ll put the furs in the car, but Dana must do the driving. It’s a three-handed job now, see?’

Mrs. French saw all right, but she made out she didn’t.

‘I don’t want Dana mixed up in this,’ she said brusquely. ‘You’ve always driven before.’

Theo stared at her.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ he demanded crossly. ‘I’ve got to look after the girl, haven’t I?’ His nails clawed at his ribs again.

‘And just how are you going to look after her?’ Mrs. French inquired.

‘I’ll come up the service lift, wait until Harry gets out, go in there, untie her and shove her in the safe. When they find her they’ll think she got trapped like it says in that paper she gave us.’

Mrs. French continued to look out of the window. ‘That’s murder, Theo,’ she said, as if to herself.

Theo picked his nose.

‘It’ll be an accident,’ he said after a little thought. ‘Anyway that’s how it’ll look.’

‘I’m not saying it isn’t a good idea,’ Mrs. French said. ‘I think it’s smart. There isn’t any other way we can be sure she won’t talk. But I don’t stand for murder, Theo.’

Theo wasn’t impressed. He took off his wreck of a hat, peered into it, found a crumpled packet of Player’s Weights inside, selected one that was less greasy than the others, lit it, put his hat on again.

‘I want to spend some of that dough,’ he said, blowing a long stream of smoke down his nostrils. ‘Like you said, if she talks I won’t ’ave a fat lot of time for spending: nor will you or Dana.’

‘Or Harry,’ Mrs. French said generously.

‘I don’t care a lot what happens to Harry,’ Theo said. ‘I’d like to get even with that—’

Mrs. French flinched.

‘I won’t listen to such language. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’

‘Oh, I am,’ Theo said, and began to scratch himself again.

There was another long pause, then Mrs. French said: ‘He’s going to the States, anyway.’

Theo sneered.

‘Can’t you get your mind off Harry? We’re talking about the girl.’

Mrs. French shook her head.

‘I don’t want to know anything about her. I don’t stand for murder.’

Theo eyed her a little doubtfully. He wasn’t quite sure if she were serious or not.

‘Don’t I keep telling you it’ll be an accident?’ he persisted, swore under his breath as his skin began to irritate again.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Mrs. French said shortly, added after a pause: ‘You’ll have a bigger share than Harry and Dana. Another fifteen hundred.’

Theo brightened and grinned to himself.

‘Make it two thou while you’re about it. It’s worth that.’

‘Fifteen hundred,’ Mrs. French said obstinately. ‘I’ve got to explain to Harry.’

‘No you ’aven’t. We’ll make the new split after I’ve done the job. He can’t object then: it’ll be too late.’

‘All right; two thousand,’ Mrs. French said.

Theo nodded.

‘And Dana to drive?’

‘I don’t see why you can’t drive.’ Mrs. French avoided Theo’s eyes. ‘But if you say you can’t I suppose Dana will have to do it.’

‘What are you going round the point for? We’ve got no witnesses. You want me to do it, don’t you?’

‘I said it was a smart idea,’ Mrs. French said cautiously. ‘I said it seemed to me it was the only way to stop her talking, but I also said I didn’t stand for murder. Let’s drop it, Theo.’

‘I still get the two thousand and Dana drives?’

Mrs. French nodded.

‘All right,’ Theo said, getting to his feet. ‘You drop it. I’ll think about it.’

When he had gone, Mrs. French sat for a long time, staring out of the window. Then Dana came in.

‘All alone?’ she asked. ‘Theo gone?’

Mrs. French grunted.

‘Got it fixed?’ Dana went on, looking at her mother with questioning eyes.

‘Everything,’ Mrs. French said abruptly.

‘That Holland girl worries me,’ Dana said, sitting on the edge of her mother’s desk. She massaged the red mark where her garter had bitten into her flesh above her knee.

‘Don’t let her worry you,’ Mrs. French returned, without turning from the window. ‘You’ll have to drive the car.’

Dana’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Why? Can’t Theo drive the car? Isn’t that what was arranged?’

Mrs. French got to her feet.

‘Theo says he’s got something more important to do,’ she said and ear-rings bobbed in the sunlight. ‘I don’t know what he’s got to do and I’m not going to ask and I don’t want you to ask either.’

Dana stared at her for a moment, then she lost some of her colour.

‘Now look, Mother, you don’t mean

‘Shut up!’ Mrs. French said, and turned back to the window.

IV

On the following afternoon Detective Inspector Dawson was at work in his office when Wesley was announced. Dawson nodded to the police constable, pushed back his chair as Wesley came in.

‘There’s a chair just by you, Mr. Wesley,’ he said, signaled to the constable who pushed the chair against the back of Wesley’s knees. Wesley sat down.

‘Well, I hope you’re ready for them this evening,’ Wesley said quietly. ‘I thought I’d look in just to check over any last-minute details.’

‘It’ll be all right, sir,’ Dawson returned, sat down and stared thoughtfully at Wesley. ‘Everything arranged. There won’t be any trouble.’

‘Now what in the world is a fellow like this doing fooling around with that Holland girl,’ he was wondering. ‘Not as if he could see her and be infatuated by her looks. She’s a nice-looking girl; I’ll say that for her, but there’s nothing else to her. This chap’s got a lot of money, plenty of education and culture. They’ve got absolutely nothing in common. I wonder what the idea is?’

He had been intrigued by the plain-clothes detective’s report, but realized that it was no business of his. It had just so happened that in keeping an eye on Julie, Clegg had spotted what was going on between these two. Although it wasn’t his business, Dawson couldn’t help being puzzled and interested.

‘You’ll have a clear field,’ Wesley said after a moment’s hesitation. ‘My wife and I are going to the theatre. I don’t usually go to the theatre, but it’s the only way I can get my wife away from the flat. I am most anxious she should know nothing of what’s happening to-night.’ He made a quick impatient gesture. ‘She would insist on being there, and that would make things very difficult.’ He moved uneasily, went on: ‘You think no harm will come to Miss Holland?’

‘None at all,’ Dawson returned. ‘She tells me they plan to leave her tied up when the robbery’s over. Anyway, we’ll be at hand and she’s only got to scream.’

‘Exactly where will your men be?’ Wesley asked.

‘We’ll have a couple in the hall. Two in the alley at the back, another two on the landing outside the flat, and two more on the roof. As soon as we know they’re inside we’ll throw a cordon right round the building. We’re not taking any chances.’

Wesley nodded.

‘That sounds all right,’ he said, and got to his feet. ‘You won’t be able to contact me until after the theatre. We’re going to the Hippodrome, but I don’t suppose you’ll want me. I’ll ring you in the interval which I believe is around eight-forty. Will that do?’

‘It should do,’ Dawson said. ‘But there’ll be nothing to worry about.’

‘Thank you,’ Wesley said, offered his hand. ‘Then I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you have plenty to do.’

‘Well, I keep pretty busy, sir,’ Dawson said, shaking hands. But this little job is a real holiday. It couldn’t be better arranged for us. It’s not often we get the chance of a tip-off like this, you know.’

‘Make sure they don’t slip through your fingers,’ Wesley returned quietly.

‘No fear of that. We’ll have ’em all right.’

‘I suppose you’ll want Miss Holland as a witness?’ Wesley asked. ‘I’d prefer not if you can avoid it. I don’t want any publicity about her if I can help it. Is it necessary, do you think?’

‘Was this why he’s come?’ Dawson wondered, said, ‘I don’t think we’ll need her. If we nab them with the goods it’ll be plain sailing. We’ll need you, of course.’

‘Oh yes, that’s quite all right,’ Wesley said. ‘You see, the girl has an odd background. But then you know all about that. I’d like her to have a fresh start if I could arrange it. If it gets known it was through her the gang was caught there might be trouble from her old associates.’

‘There might be,’ Dawson agreed. ‘I won’t call her unless I have to, sir.’

Wesley nodded.

‘Good.’ Still he didn’t make a move to go. ‘Inspector, Miss Holland interests me,’ he went on after a pause. ‘You’re a man of the world and will know what I mean by that. I’m taking care of her when this business is over. So you see, the least publicity might be embarrassing.’

‘Well, that’s hardly my business,’ Dawson said, taken aback. It was the last thing he expected.

‘Oh, I know.’ Wesley smiled. ‘But she has been associating with criminals, hasn’t she? I wouldn’t want you to be interested in her when this is over. I shall look after her and see she doesn’t get into any further trouble. I’ll make her my responsibility.’

‘I wouldn’t be interested in her unless she did get into further trouble,’ Dawson said, a shade coldly. ‘There was no need to tell me any of this, sir.’

‘But I wanted you to know. I hope I shall not be followed by a plain-clothes man in the future, Inspector,’ Wesley said, and his mouth tightened. ‘It is an experience I can well do without, and if repeated I shall take prompt action.’

Dawson grimaced.

‘Got me there,’ he thought. ‘No wonder he’s been so frank. I suppose that blasted girl spotted Clegg.’

‘That was an accident, sir,’ he said quietly. ‘I must apologize. We were giving Miss Holland police protection and happened to run into something that didn’t concern us.’

‘So it seems,’ Wesley said. ‘In the future when your man sees Miss Holland and me together, will you instruct him to leave us alone?’

‘I hope there won’t be any occasion to watch Miss Holland after this evening,’ Dawson pointed out.

‘Of course not,’ Wesley said, and smiled. ‘I’ll telephone you some time this evening. Could your man kindly show me to my taxi?’

When he had gone, Dawson ran his thick fingers through his hair.

‘I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of that chap,’ he thought. ‘His bark is quiet enough, but I bet his bite is hell.’ He went to the window to watch Wesley’s taxi drive away. ‘Don’t exactly blame him. He’s a good bloke; lots of guts; V.C. and blind. Well, if he gets a bit of fun out of that girl — good luck to him.’

And he settled down once more to his work.

V

Julie was pacing up and down in her room. It was a few minutes to seven o’clock, and in another hour Harry would arrive. The suspense of waiting was becoming unbearable. All the previous night and during the day she had tried to screw up her courage to warn him the police were waiting for him, but every time she moved to the telephone she remembered Theo’s threat, and the ghastly photographs of the women he had shown her. If she saved Harry, Theo would come after her, and besides, Wesley wouldn’t like it. Now that Harry had told her he loved her some of the old attraction she had had for him returned. If Wesley had been nicer to her she wouldn’t have thought of Harry, but it was all too plain that Wesley was bribing her to keep quiet. He wasn’t in love with her as Harry was, and a girl needed love, she told herself. Her mind was in an agony of indecision. Even now she was still in two minds as to what to do, although she knew the chance of getting Harry on the telephone was remote. She had left it too late.

A soft tap sounded on the door, making her start. Wesley came in. He was in evening dress, and in spite of the black-lensed glasses Julie thought he looked very handsome.

He closed the door gently, set his back against it and smiled at her.

‘Scared, Julie?’ he asked. ‘Heart going like a trip-hammer?’

She nodded miserably.

‘It’ll soon be over,’ he assured her. ‘I wish I could see you through it, but it’s the one thing you’ll have to do on your own. But it’ll be worth it, Julie. Once you’re free of these people you can begin your new life and I’ll do my best to make it a happy one.’

‘I... I keep thinking of Harry,’ she blurted out. ‘I saw him yesterday. He wanted me to go to America with him. He... he told me he loved me, and I could see he did.’

Wesley’s face was expressionless.

‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘And you’re feeling pretty bad because the police are going to get him, aren’t you?’ He thrust his hands into his trousers pockets. Although he appeared calm enough, Julie had a feeling that he was inwardly as nervy as herself. ‘But a fellow like Gleb would never give you any happiness; sooner or later he would get into trouble and then you’d be in trouble, too. You have no alternative really, have you? You must think of yourself.’

‘I know,’ Julie said. ‘But it seems such a rotten trick to play on someone who loves you. I wish I could warn him to keep away. If it weren’t for Theo...’

Wesley didn’t say anything for a moment. He studied her as she wandered miserably to the window.

‘I have something here for you. See if this’ll cheer you up.’

She turned quickly. He was holding out a cheque-book.

‘It’s for you. I’ve opened an account for you. You have two hundred and fifty pounds to spend. Every quarter I’ll pay in a similar amount. You can go along to the bank tomorrow and give them your signature. Then you can begin to draw the money.’

She had always wanted a bank account and for the moment Harry was forgotten.

‘Two hundred and fifty pounds?’ she said, staring at him. She took the cheque-book and flicked through the pages. ‘For me?’

‘I said I’d make you an allowance of a thousand a year,’ he reminded her. ‘This is the beginning of it.’

‘I see.’ She stared at him, then she said, ‘You don’t really care for me, do you? This is because you want to be sure I won’t talk. You’re not fooling me, you know.’

‘I didn’t suppose I was fooling you, as you put it,’ he returned quietly. ‘Your silence is important, Julie. If you want to keep the things I’ve given you, you must keep my secret. No matter what happens you must say nothing. If you do, the flat and your income won’t be yours any more. And it won’t be because I’ll take them away. It’ll be because I should no longer be in the position to give them to you. You see, Julie, if it got out I could see I’d be ruined. I can’t tell you any more than that. I shouldn’t perhaps have told you so much. It was chance you found out, and I am going to do everything I can to persuade you from telling anyone. So if you want your flat and this money, if you want clothes and a good time, say nothing.’

‘I won’t,’ Julie said steadily, and gripped the cheque-book tightly.

‘And as far as Harry Gleb is concerned,’ he went on quietly, ‘if you show any weakness now you’ll regret it later. But I must go now. Don’t be frightened, Julie, and good luck. You will go through with it, won’t you?’

She had to go through with it, she told herself, and remembered what Harry had once said: ‘I don’t care how I get hold of money so long as I get it. Money is power. I have only a few years on this earth — then the worms, the dark and the cold. I’m going to enjoy myself while I can.’ That was her philosophy, too. Money was power. She couldn’t afford to be squeamish, and she told herself Harry wouldn’t have hesitated to do as she was doing if he had been in her place.

‘Yes, I’m going through with it,’ she said.

But the moment Wesley had gone and she heard the front door slam she once more became a prey to her fears. There were another forty minutes yet before Harry arrived and she sat in her room, her fists clenched, sick with apprehension, and her eyes on the clock. As its hands moved slowly towards the hour she became more and more jumpy. Every sound, the creaking of the doors, the ticking of the clock, the soft sound of the passing traffic, and the whine of the lift as it raced between floors, made her nerves tighten.

But she wasn’t the only one to be strung up. In the Park, under the dark shadow of the trees, Harry Gleb and Theo were watching the lighted entrance of Park Way.

Harry held a cigarette in his fingers, the glowing end shielded in the palm of his hand. He was also uneasy and nervous, and every now and then he shifted his position restlessly.

Not so Theo. He leaned against a tree, his hands in his pockets, his hat at the back of his head, callously calm. He wasn’t going to get excited over a job like this. It took a lot to upset Theo.

‘What’s the time?’ Harry asked suddenly. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his sweating hands.

‘Twenty past seven,’ Theo returned after consulting the luminous face of his wrist-watch. He glanced at Harry, hate in his eyes.

‘Time they left,’ Harry said, dropped the cigarette on the grass and stepped on it. ‘Think we’ve missed them?’

Theo scratched his ribs, swore softly under his breath.

‘Not a chance. What’s your hurry? We can’t do anything until eight.’

‘I don’t understand why Ma’s dragged Dana into this,’ Harry muttered. ‘We two could have handled it.’

Theo grinned evilly in the darkness.

‘She’s right,’ he returned. ‘Anyone might spot the car if it remained for long in the alley. It’s better this way. I can get round to the back without anyone seeing me, get the furs together, then when Dana arrives all I have to do is throw the furs in and she’ll be away. It’s a smart idea.’

Harry grunted. He distrusted any sudden change of plan.

‘There they go,’ Theo said suddenly and pointed.

They watched Blanche and Wesley get into the waiting taxi. Neither of them said anything but their eyes followed the red tail light until it disappeared.

Harry lit another cigarette.

‘Well, that starts it,’ he said. ‘I’d like to get in there now. This waiting gives me a pain in the guts.’

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Theo sneered. ‘Got cold feet?’

‘Shut up, you ape,’ Harry snarled.

There was a long silence between them, then Theo again consulted his watch.

‘About time I got going,’ he said. ‘Give me five minutes and then come on. See you in prison,’ and he slouched away into the darkness.

Harry’s face tightened. ‘The little rat has nerves like steel,’ he thought. ‘See you in prison! The kind of crack he would come out with on a job like this.’ Harry crossed his fingers and stood waiting. While he waited he thought of Julie. He was determined to make her leave the flat with him after he had passed the furs to Theo. He didn’t care how much she protested. She was going with him.

Deciding that Theo had had time to reach the alley at the back of the building, he turned up his coat collar and walked slowly across the grass out of the Park towards Park Way. His heart was pounding and his throat was dry. He had never before felt like this on a job, and it worried him.

It would have worried him still more if he had known that Detective Inspector Dawson and two plain-clothes men were watching him and moved silently after him as he left the Park.

He entered the vast lobby of Park Way and went up to the porter’s office.

‘I’m looking for Mrs. Gregory’s apartment,’ he said. ‘Can you direct me, please?’

He remembered that Julie had told him the top flat was occupied by a Mrs. Gregory. Such information was always useful, and Harry had filed it away in his retentive memory for future use.

‘Mrs. Gregory?’ the porter repeated, coming out of his office. ‘Yes, sir. Top floor. Take the lift on your right. I don’t know if Mrs. Gregory is in. Would you care for me to find out?’

Harry blew his nose loudly. He had been holding his handkerchief to his face in the hope that the porter wouldn’t get a good look at him.

‘She’s expecting me,’ he said. ‘It’s all right. Top floor? Thanks.’ He walked quickly to the lift and pressed the automatic button.

While he waited he had a creepy sensation that he was being watched, but he didn’t look round. Sweat began to trickle down the back of his neck and he mopped himself with the handkerchief.

The lift doors opened and he stepped inside. As he pressed the button indicating the top floor he took a quick look round the lobby. It was deserted. The porter had returned to his office. He drew in a quick breath of relief and leaned against the side of the lift as it shot him to the top floor.

Leaving the lift, he ran down the two flights of stairs that brought him to the landing leading to Wesley’s flat. He looked up and down the deserted passage, then walked to the front door and rang the bell.

There was a long, unnerving pause before Julie opened the door. She stared at him, white faced, her eyes wide with fear.

‘All right, Julie,’ he said, trying to sound brisk. ‘Let’s go.’ He pushed past her into the flat and shut the door. ‘Come on, kid. Let’s make it snappy.’

But she could only stare at him. He was wearing a dark overcoat and a slouch hat pulled low over his eyes. A black silk scarf hid his chin. She could see sweat trickling down the side of his face from under his hat and his eyes burned feverishly.

‘Harry!’ she exclaimed, backing away. ‘Please don’t go through with this!’

He caught hold of her arm and bustled her, protesting weakly, down the passage to Blanche’s bedroom.

‘Now, take it easy,’ he said, far from easy himself. ‘This has got to be quick. In and out, see? Get the safe open, kid, as fast as you can.’

She was sick with fright, expecting any moment for the police to appear. She couldn’t move, but stared at him with eyes like holes in a sheet.

‘Harry! Why did you come! I told you to stay away!’ she cried, wringing her hands.

He caught hold of her.

‘Come on; for God’s sake stop talking and get this damned safe open,’ he said feverishly, and shook her.

‘But Harry...’ she wailed.

‘We’ll talk when we get outside.’ He was controlling himself with difficulty. ‘Come on, get it open.’ He shoved her before the quilted wall. ‘Turn off the alarms. There’s one behind the bed, isn’t there? Turn it off.’

It suddenly occurred to her that if he didn’t take the furs the police couldn’t do anything to him. She could swear that he had come to see her and then they would have no case against him.

‘Harry! Listen, you mustn’t take anything. Please go. I’ll even come with you if you’ll go now.’

He rounded on her. His own nerves were at breaking point. He had never before wasted so much time on a job.

‘Turn the blasted alarm off!’ he shouted at her. ‘And stop talking!’

‘But Harry, you don’t understand...’ she began, but cursing under his breath he caught hold of her arm and gave her a stinging slap across her face.

‘Pull yourself together, you little fool!’ he exclaimed furiously. ‘Open that safe!’

She stepped back, her hand going to her face. She realized at once that he had struck her because he was frightened, but in spite of that she couldn’t forgive him. If he could do that to her after he had told her he loved her, what was his love worth, she thought.

‘All right,’ she said bleakly. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

Harry was now so jittery he nearly struck her again. He had been in the flat for over ten minutes and the safe wasn’t opened yet.

‘Get on with it,’ he said frantically. ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’

She went to the head of the bed, moving like an automaton, and turned off the alarm. Then she went into the bathroom and turned off the second alarm. As she came out of the bathroom he again implored her to hurry.

Without quite knowing what she was doing she opened the safe. Harry gaped at the row of fur coats when the steel doors slid back. As soon as she had turned off the light that operated the photo-electric cell, he jumped forward, scooped up an armful of the furs and rushed from the room. She heard him push up the panel covering the service lift in the kitchen. Suddenly she felt she was going to faint and clutched hold of a chair to steady herself.

Harry came in, grabbed another armful of furs and rushed out again. He worked like lightning, not paying her any attention. There was nothing she could do now, she thought, gripping the back of the chair. In a moment or so the police would burst in and that would be the end of Harry.

Then something happened that rooted her to the floor and sent blood from her heart.

There was a sudden shrill scream that echoed through the flat, immediately followed by the crash of gunfire.

Julie found herself at the door, peering fearfully into the passage.

Harry was standing a yard or so from the front door, which stood open. He was staring down at something at his feet, something his body blocked from Julie’s view. Nearby lay an automatic pistol; smoke drifted lazily from its muzzle.

‘Harry!’ Julie cried, and Harry, suddenly galvanized into life, slammed and bolted the front door. As he moved, Julie caught sight of a little doll-like figure lying on the floor. It was Blanche.

Julie screamed as she saw blood running down the side of Blanche’s face, forming a crimson halo round her fair hair.

There came a tremendous crash on the front door, which bulged, creaked, but held.

Harry sprang back, turned and came rushing down the passage towards Julie. His eyes were bolting from his head; his colourless face dreadful to look at.

Julie shrank away from him.

‘You shot her!’ she gasped, throwing out her hands to keep him off. ‘Harry! keep away!’

‘You know I didn’t!’ Harry gasped, grabbing hold of her. ‘I was in the kitchen. I’ve never carried a gun in my life. Julie! You’ve got to tell them. I... I didn’t do it!’

Then the front door burst open and three police officers came charging down the passage.

Harry flung Julie out of his way, darted into the kitchen, but he hadn’t taken a step or two before he was pulled down, his frantic struggles smothered by many hands.

Julie heard him yell, ‘I didn’t do it! I swear I didn’t do it. It’s not my gun!’ and then everything went dark and she seemed to be falling into a bottomless pit.

VI

Theo was hauling himself up in the service lift when he heard the shot and he immediately jammed on the flimsy brake, stopping the lift. He was only a few feet below the service hatch that Harry had left open. The light from the kitchen reflected down the shaft, and by peering through the opening between the shaft and the lift, he could see part of the kitchen ceiling.

He heard Julie’s wild scream and the crash as the front door of the flat was forced open, and he cursed, knowing that something had gone badly wrong.

The lift was operated by pulling on a rope from below. It was also possible, but not easy, to operate the lift by pulling on the rope that ran inside the lift. Theo had found it hard work hoisting himself up by hand, but he had kept at it, sweating and swearing, because he knew it was vital to silence Julia. And now this must happen just when he was within a few feet of his destination.

He suddenly heard the sounds of a violent struggle, then Harry’s voice, strident with panic, yell: ‘I didn’t do it! I swear I didn’t do it! It’s not my gun!’

Theo’s face set.

‘Someone’s got shot,’ he thought. ‘This is where I get the hell out of here!’

Over-anxious to get away before anyone spotted him, he released the brake before getting a grip on the rope. Instantly the lift fell like a stone between the floors. Theo made a desperate grab at the brake and slammed it on, but the impetus of the lift was too much for it and it snapped.

Theo gave a howl of terror as the lift plunged down; a howl that was heard by the two plain-clothes detectives who were in the alley.

They saw the lift come down out of the darkness and smash to pieces against its steel bed. They saw a body hurtle out and thud on the damp concrete.

They ran forward, bent over Theo. One of them shone a torch on to his ghastly face. When he touched Theo, Theo screamed, startling both men. They drew back, staring at him.

‘All right, son,’ the taller of the two said. ‘Just take it easy. We’ll get an ambulance for you.’ He could see by the way Theo was lying that he had broken his back, and turning to his companion, he went on in a lower tone: ‘Nip up and get the inspector, George. He’s had it.’

Sweat ran down Theo’s face.

‘Where’s he gone?’ he gasped, seeing the other detective run off down the dark passage.

‘Gone to get Dawson and the ambulance,’ he was told.

‘Bet old Dawson will raise a cheer,’ Theo said, his face twisting with pain. ‘He never liked me.’ He panted for a moment, trying to get his breath. ‘Blasted back’s broken. Don’t touch me. It’s all right so long as you don’t touch me.’

‘You take it easy, kid,’ the detective said, and squatted on his heels beside Theo. ‘We’ll fix you up.’

Theo sneered.

‘Going to get into the papers at last,’ he said. ‘I got a photo of myself in my wallet. Give it to the Press, chum. My old man’ll get a kick seeing me in the papers. It’ll be front-page stuff, won’t it?’

‘That’s right,’ the detective said, grimacing.

‘Get it now and keep it by you,’ Theo insisted. ‘They’ll give you a couple of nicker for it. If you don’t have it, Dawson will. You know what he’s like.’

To humour him, the detective took the wallet and found the photograph.

‘This it?’ he asked.

Theo peered forward.

‘That’s it. You give it to the Press.’ He lay for a minute not saying anything, then he went on: ‘What was that shooting just now?’

‘I don’t know,’ the detective returned. ‘Gleb wasn’t carrying a gun, was he?’

Theo didn’t say anything. If he was going to die, and he thought that was what was going to happen to him, he wasn’t going to let Harry get away with it. Harry had hit him, and no one hit Theo without paying for it. But Theo wanted to know more about the shooting before he talked.

‘I’m not saying anything until Dawson comes,’ he said. ‘He’d better hurry. I’m going to croak.’

‘Not you,’ the detective said cheerfully. ‘You’ll live to do your ten years.’

‘They wouldn’t give me ten,’ Theo said. ‘I’d be unlucky to get three.’

Detective Inspector Dawson materialized out of the darkness and knelt by Theo’s side.

‘Hello,’ he said, staring down at the white, pain-lined face. ‘Got yourself into a proper mess this time, haven’t you?’

Theo opened his eyes.

‘I’m all right so long as you don’t move me,’ he said. ‘That ambulance coming?’

‘Yes,’ Dawson returned. ‘Seen this gun before, Theo?’ He dangled an automatic pistol before Theo’s eyes, turned the beam of his torch on to it.

‘Was that Harry shooting?’ Theo asked. ‘Did he kill anyone?’

‘We don’t know. It depends if this is his gun.’

Theo closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

‘It’s his gun all right. Who did he shoot?’

‘Are you sure?’ Dawson demanded.

‘Cos I’m sure,’ Theo lied. ‘I didn’t want him to carry a gun. But he wouldn’t listen. He said he’d kill anyone who got in his way.’

‘Will you sign a statement?’ Dawson asked quietly.

Theo nodded. There was a glazed look in his eyes now.

‘You’d better hurry,’ he said. ‘I ain’t going to last long.’

Dawson was already scribbling in his notebook. He got Theo to sign the statement after a little difficulty.

Theo was dead by the time the ambulance arrived.

VII

They were bringing Harry Gleb down in the lift as Dawson re-entered the lobby of Park Way. Harry was handcuffed to a burly plain-clothes man. Another detective walked just behind him.

Harry’s face was livid. When he saw Dawson, the automatic pistol in his hand, he made a dive towards him, only to be roughly jerked back by his escort.

‘I didn’t do it, Dawson!’ he cried in a cracked, despairing voice. ‘It’s not my gun. I’ve never had a gun. You know me; I wouldn’t do a thing like that. For God’s sake, Dawson, don’t pin this on me. I didn’t do it!’

Dawson’s hard blue eyes surveyed Harry up and down.

‘Don’t give me that stuff, Gleb,’ he said roughly. ‘Your little pal, Theo, gave you away. I’ve got a signed statement from him swearing the gun’s yours. You’ve pulled one job too many, Harry. This is your last little effort.’

‘He’s lying!’ Harry shouted. ‘Bring him here! I’ll make the rat speak the truth! Bring him here!’

‘He’s dead,’ Dawson said brutally, then, turning to the escort, he went on, ‘Take him away.’

‘Dead?’ Harry cried, then as the escort began to hustle him to the door he started to struggle like a madman, and it was all the two detectives could do to get him out of the lobby and into the waiting police car.

Newspaper reporters with a battery of cameras were waiting outside and the darkness was split open by the flash-bulbs exploding as they photographed his struggling exit. His wailing, protesting voice could be heard even as the car drove rapidly away.

Garson, Dawson’s assistant, came up to Dawson.

‘Mr. Wesley’s arrived,’ he said in a low voice. ‘He’s up there now.’

Dawson nodded.

‘What I want to know is how the devil she got through the cordon?’ he said, rubbing his heavy jaw. ‘And why did she come back on her own like that?’

‘I didn’t question Mr. Wesley,’ Garson said. ‘He’s a bit knocked over. I thought I’d give him a moment or so to recover. Will you question him, sir, or shall I?’

‘I’ll see him,’ Dawson said grimly. ‘There’s going to be a hell of a row about this, Garson. We had the place surrounded and we knew what Gleb was up to and we calmly let him shoot her. She’s a well-known figure, too. Just wait until the papers know what’s happened. They’re already asking how it is we were on the spot before the robbery. What’s happened to the girl, Holland?’

‘She’s still up there. The M.O.’s having a look at her.’

Dawson walked over to the lift. Garson followed him.

‘Theo’s dead,’ Dawson said. ‘Broke his back. The little horror had it coming to him. Jackson’s looking after the remains.’

They rode up in the lift.

‘How did Wesley take it?’ Dawson asked abruptly.

‘Seemed knocked right out. He came in quietly. I didn’t notice him at first. There was a lot going on. The body hadn’t been moved and he practically stepped on it. Then he bent down and touched her just as I reached him. It gave him a pretty horrible jolt. I took him along to his study and left him I thought I’d let him get over it.’

‘Well, I don’t think there was much love lost between those two,’ Dawson said. ‘He was planning to make Holland his mistress. From what I’ve heard Blanche Wesley was a bit of a bitch. But all the same it isn’t funny to come home and fall over the dead body of your wife, is it?’

He stepped from the lift and walked in through the front door of Wesley’s flat.

Blanche’s body still lay where it had fallen. Police photographs were busy taking photographs and finger-print men were working in the hall.

Dawson didn’t stop, but went immediately to Wesley’s study.

Wesley was sitting in an arm-chair, his hands folded in his lap, his face white and set. He turned his head as Dawson came in. The black-lensed glasses emphasized his pallor.

‘Who is it?’ he asked.

‘Dawson. Bad business, sir. I can’t say how sorry I am.’

Wesley nodded.

‘Yes.’ His voice sounded flat. ‘Couldn’t your men have stopped her coming in?’

‘They had no instructions to stop anyone entering the building, only to prevent anyone leaving,’ Dawson reminded him. ‘None of my men saw Mrs. Wesley come in. If they had and had known who she was they would have stopped her. We had no idea she was in the fiat. Why did she return?’

Wesley made a little gesture. It revealed a controlled despair.

‘We quarrelled,’ he said. ‘To tell the truth, Inspector, we didn’t get on well together. In many ways my wife was very difficult to live with. She had no patience with my blindness, and I suppose I’m not particularly easy myself.’ He hesitated, went on. ‘She drank a bit, and when she was like that she had a pretty violent temper. She had been drinking rather heavily before we started for the theatre. In the cab we got into one of those interminable arguments that always seem to be cropping up between us. It developed into a heated quarrel, and as I was paying off the driver she left me. I had no idea she had gone until I had got into the theatre. It is very difficult, as you can imagine, for a blind man to be left suddenly high and dry in the middle of a crush of people, all moving to their seats. I left her ticket with the programme seller, thinking she might have gone to the bar or the ladies’ room. But after the curtain had gone up, and she hadn’t come to claim her seat, I guessed she didn’t intend to see the show. I decided to go to my club. Then it occurred to me that she might have returned here and I became alarmed. I had some difficulty in getting a taxi. At last someone took pity on me and stopped one for me. When I arrived here I learned she... she—’ He broke off and turned away.

‘But how did she get in? No one saw her. Can you explain that?’

‘I think so. I suppose she told the taxi driver to drop her at the garage entrance. The garage of this building is below ground and has a separate entrance. You can take the lift from the garage to our flat without entering the hall. She often does that.’

‘But no taxis were allowed through after Gleb was in the flat.’

‘Perhaps she walked. I don’t know. I’m just making suggestions.’

Dawson stared at him.

‘Oh, yes, I understand that. I didn’t know about the garage. I’d better find out if anyone saw her in there. Well, we’ve got the man who did it. He won’t get away with it.’

Wesley seemed to turn a shade paler.

‘If there’s nothing more, Inspector, perhaps you wouldn’t mind leaving me? This has been a bit of a shock.’

‘Of course,’ Dawson returned, suddenly feeling sorry for him. ‘We’ll try not to bother you. Is there anything I can do for you?’

‘If you see Gerridge — he’s my secretary — tell him to come to me,’ Wesley said. ‘He should be in in a little while.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Dawson said, turned to the door.

‘Oh, Inspector, is Miss Holland all right?’ Wesley asked guardedly.

‘Yes... a bit shocked, but she’s all right. I’m going to see her now.’

‘Did she see anything?’

‘That’s what I’m going to find out.’

‘I see. Thank you.’

Dawson went quietly from the room, closed the door. He stood for a moment or so thinking, then went into the lounge where Garson was waiting.

‘Go down to the garage and find out if anyone saw Mrs. Wesley come in that way,’ he said. ‘The garage is in the basement and was the one place we didn’t guard. Wesley says he thinks that was how she got in.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Garson said, made to move off but Dawson stopped him.

‘Where’s the Holland girl?’

‘In her room; end of the passage, sir.’

Dawson nodded and went with a heavy tread down the passage. He rapped on the door, pushed it open and went in.

Julie was lying on the bed. Her tear-stained face blanched when she saw who it was.

‘Where were you when the shooting took place?’ Dawson demanded. He had no intention of wasting any time with Julie.

‘In Mrs. Wesley’s room.’

‘What happened?’

‘I... I don’t know. I... I didn’t see any of it.’

Dawson surveyed her; his mouth tightening.

‘Now look here, young woman, you’ve been on the fringe of trouble for some time. Now you’re mixed up in a murder case. You and Gleb were the only two in the flat. You’d better be a bit more helpful or you’ll be getting into trouble.’

‘But I don’t know,’ Julie cried, struggling up on the bed. ‘I didn’t see anything.’

‘You heard something, didn’t you?’

‘I heard Mrs. Wesley scream. Then there was a shot. I ran out. Harry was bending over Mrs. Wesley. He’d just come from the kitchen.’

‘That’s all you saw? You didn’t see him shoot her?’

‘But he didn’t shoot her. He was in the kitchen!’ Julie cried, wringing her hands. ‘He didn’t do it. He hadn’t a gun. Harry wouldn’t do a thing like that.’

‘It’s no use trying to get him out of his trouble. I know you’ve been in love with him, but it won’t do,’ Dawson said harshly. ‘If he didn’t do it, who did? Did you do it? Only you and Gleb were in the flat.’

‘Oh, no!’ Julie exclaimed, terrified at once. ‘I... I didn’t do it.’

Dawson smiled grimly.

‘I didn’t think you did,’ he said. ‘But I wanted to show you lying might make things difficult for you.’

‘But... but I’m sure Harry didn’t do it,’ Julie said, clenching her fists. ‘The front door was open. Someone could have shot her through the front door.’

‘The invisible man? I had a man at either end of the passage. No one could have come up or down the stairs without being seen. As soon as the shot was fired both my men came into the passage. There was no one in sight.’

Julie stared at him, going cold.

‘Did Gleb have the gun in his hand?’ Dawson asked.

‘No. It was lying on the floor by Mrs. Wesley; just by the door.’

‘All right. Well, this let’s you out. Theo’s dead. Gleb’s nabbed and we’re roping the Frenches in now. You’d better watch your step from now on.’ He turned to the door, looked over his shoulder. ‘You’ll be a witness, remember,’ he reminded her. ‘This trial is going to cause a lot of noise. Be careful what you do between now and the trial, won’t you?’

He ran into Garson as he left Julie’s room.

‘No one in the garage, sir,’ Garson reported. ‘The staff leave at seven.’

‘You’d better try and trace the taxi that brought her here,’ Dawson said, frowning. ‘There’s something very odd about the way she sneaked back here. I’ve got a feeling it’ll pay us to put some work in on this angle.’

Garson looked a little startled.

‘But Gleb shot her, didn’t he? There’s no doubt about that, is there?’

‘There’s always a doubt until the trial’s over,’ Dawson said acidly. ‘I’m not going to have my case shot from under me for the lack of a little hard work. I’ve wanted to lay my hands on Gleb for a long time. Now I’ve got him, I don’t intend to let him slip through my fingers. Find out what Mrs. Wesley did from the time she left Wesley to the time she was shot.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Neither of them noticed that the door of Wesley’s study had opened an inch or so. When Garson hurried away, the door silently closed.