An Ear to the Ground

Seven

None of the four moved until they heard Abe’s car drive away, then Johnny reached for a cigarette. He had told Abe he had been to the Casino the previous night and had lost five thousand of Abe’s dollars. Abe knew this to be a lie, but he was stuck with it. He was anxious to get most of his money back and get away from the villa, he had to accept the lie. He had gone off with ninety-five thousand dollars, and he reckoned himself lucky to have got even that amount.

“Don’t let’s get excited,” Johnny said quietly. “Let’s see how much money we have left. I have Abe’s five thousand.” He looked at Henry. “Colonel?”

Henry hesitated, then lifted his old, drooping shoulders.

“Five hundred.”

“Gilda?”

“Me?” She waved her hands helplessly. “Twenty dollars.”

“Fatso... what have you left?”

“You call me Fatso, you murdering sonofabitch, and I’ll cut your throat!”

“Never mind my throat... how much have you got?”

“Listen to me, you creep!” Martha’s face turned purple. “I financed this plan. I’ve already spent more than five thousand dollars to set it up. Now... what have we got? Nothing! And why? Because I was stupid enough to hook up with a vicious killer like you!”

“I didn’t ask for a commentary,” Johnny said quietly. “How much have you got?”

“Nothing! Whatever I have left, I’m keeping for myself!”

Johnny shrugged.

“Okay. So you have nothing, you greedy old liar. Well, at least we have five thousand and the Cadillac. I’ll sell the car. I’ll get four thousand for it. So that gives us nine thousand. We can live on that for two more weeks and have something to spare.” He pointed to the brief-case on the table. “And we have the jewels.”

“Are you crazy?” Martha screamed, slamming her fat fist down on the table. “You heard what that rat said... that stuff is dynamite!”

Johnny regarded her, his expression calm, his eyes mocking.

“Yes, it’s dynamite now, but in a couple of years, I could do a deal with it. The heat will be off and we could sell the stuff. We’ll have to wait. Two years and we’re where we came in.”

Listening to this, Henry nodded.

“He’s right, Martha. In less than two years, I could sell this stuff to Milkes in New York. He would take it. Maybe we wouldn’t get more than a quarter of its value, but a quarter is better than nothing.”

Martha drew in a long, slow breath, her bosom heaving.

“What are we going to do with it now?” she asked.

“I’ll stash it away in a safe deposit box at the airport,” Johnny said. “I’ll do it right away and then sell the Caddy. We’ll keep the Opel. But first we have to clean up. There’s my shirt... there’s Gilda’s wig and the office dress. By now the cops will know all about the Acme Carpet Cleaning Co. Come on,” he was now speaking to Gilda. “We’ll put the lot in the barbecue and make a bonfire.”

An hour later, the bloodstained shirt, Gilda’s wig, her dress and sun goggles were ashes in the outdoor barbecue.

Johnny picked up the brief-case.

“You two take it easy,” he said. “I’ll stash this away and get rid of the Caddy.” He looked at Gilda. “Do you want to come with me?”

She nodded and followed him down to the Cadillac, parked in the sun.

As he was driving down the beach road, Gilda said, “I knew it was too good to be true... it was all too easy. I knew it.”

Johnny glanced at her, then shrugged.

“It’ll work out. We won’t make so much money, but if we’re patient we can still pick up enough.”

“You mean... enough for your garage?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s all you think about, isn’t it?”

“What else is there to think about? I want that garage, and I’m going to have it!”

Gilda looked down at her hands.

“Martha and Henry mean nothing to you, do they?”

Johnny shifted in the driving seat, frowning.

“Must you talk this way? No... they mean nothing to me. That fat old bitch... and Henry... he’s as good as dead... why should they mean anything to me?”

“And me? Still nothing?”

Johnny gave an exasperated sigh.

“You’re all mixed up,” he said after a long pause. “You won’t remember me in six months’ time. There have been other girls in my life and they all had a thing about me... don’t ask me why. When I ran into them after a few months, they didn’t even recognise me.”

Gilda looked out of the car window. The sea and the sand and the people enjoying themselves on the beach were a tear-misted blur of colour.

“That must have been nice for you,” she said bitterly.

Johnny looked at her. Women! he thought.

An hour later, they came out of the Florida Safe Deposit Bank at the airport, having rented a safe in the name of Paul Whitney with a faked Los Angeles address. The briefcase was stashed away in one of the many safe deposit boxes and Johnny was satisfied the jewels were now safe.

“Now we’ll get rid of the car.”

Gilda stood around while Johnny haggled with the secondhand car salesman. The haggling was long and bitter, but finally, Johnny got the price he wanted: four thousand dollars. He put the roll of money in his hip pocket and joined Gilda.

“Well, we’re set,” he said. “All we have to do is to sit tight and bluff it out. We’re in the clear.”

Gilda walked with him across the road to a taxi rank.

“How will we survive for two years?” she asked.

“At the end of our lease, we leave,” Johnny said. “We’ll all go to Miami. I’ll dig up something. Martha will get ideas... fat as she is, she’s no fool. We’ll have to live tight until the heat is off, then we pick up the jewels and we’re in the money.”

Gilda looked searchingly at him.

“Then you are going to stay with us... remain with us?”

Johnny grinned.

“What do you think? I want my share of the pay-off. Sure, we’re all going to stick together until we can sell that stuff.”

Gilda drew in a long, deep breath. Maybe, she thought, in those future months, Johnny might come to care for her.

David Hacket, the sales manager of Raysons’ safes, was preparing to close the office and go home when Steve Harmas walked in. Although he had never met Harmas, Hacket had heard of him: the best insurance investigator in the business. He was pleased and thankful to see Harmas.

Dina Lowes, Hacket’s secretary, a smart, good-looking girl brought Harmas into Hacket’s well appointed office.

“Okay, Dina, you get off,” Hacket said after he had shaken hands with Harmas. “Lock the outer door. I have my key.”

When his secretary had gone, Hacket waved Harmas to a seat and sat down behind his desk.

Hacket was tall and immaculately dressed: a man of thirty-eight years of age: handsome with clear grey eyes that held Harmas in a steady, level gaze. Harmas immediately liked him as all those who met him liked him.

“Glad to have you here, Harmas.” Hacket said as they settled in their chairs. “This is a mess. I realise I could be suspect number one. I bet Maddox has told you to dig into my private life and into Dina’s too.”

Harmas gave his lazy, cheerful grin.

“His very words. What is killing him is how anyone could open a Raysons’ safe. Up to now, we have looked on your safes the best insurance bet of all safes, and yet, three of them have been opened and cleaned out.”

Hacket spread his hands.

“Don’t imagine Maddox is the only one. I have had Head Office screaming at me. I just don’t know how it happened. So I am suspect number one.” He shrugged. “Our security is really tight. I’ll swear by Dina. Joleson, our fitter, has been with us for twenty-three years. I’ll swear by him.” He gave a crooked smile. “I’ll even swear by myself... so somehow, this gang has got hold of the blueprints of the various safes. How they did it, I can’t imagine.”

Harmas stroked his nose.

“Where do you keep the blueprints?”

“In that cabinet there.” Hacket pointed to the filing cabinet against the far wall.

Harmas levered himself out of his chair and examined the lock of the cabinet.

“That lock doesn’t mean much,” Hacket said. “But we are wired all over. Anyone entering this office breaks a ray and the police are alerted. Anyone touching that cabinet sets off an alarm. This office is really protected, Harmas, make no mistake about that.”

“Is the alarm on now?”

“No, I’ll put it on when I leave.”

“Could you have forgotten to put it on at any time?”

“No. This is routine to me. It’s like when I shave in the morning. This is something I don’t forget to do.”

“What happens if there is an electricity cut?”

“We have our own generator.”

“Could your generator get tampered with?”

Hacket looked startled.

“I don’t think so. It’s down in the basement. The janitor has stria instructions not to let anyone down there.”

Harmas moved around the office while he thought.

“Someone has got at your files,” he said after some moments. “This must mean they have tampered with your generator. What I want from you is a list of everyone who has been here in your office during the past month. Do you keep a record?”

“Sure.”

“Fine... get me out a list. I want the names of everyone who has been here. Will you do that?”

“It’ll be ready for you first thing tomorrow.”

When Harmas left the office, he took the elevator down to the basement and talked to the janitor.

An hour later he walked up the worn steps leading to the Paradise City’s police headquarters.

Charlie Tanner, the desk sergeant, was about to leave for home. He regarded Harmas with his cold, cop stare.

“The Chief in?” Harmas asked, coming to rest before Tanner’s desk.

“Yeah, but he’s busy.”

“So am I,” Harmas said with his easy smile. “Tell him Harmas of the National Fidelity Insurance Co. I want to see him.”

Tanner reached for a telephone, spoke into it, then jerked his thumb to a flight of stairs.

“That’s the way.”

Harmas found Terrell going through a mass of reports. Sergeant Joe Beigler, a cigarette between his lips, a carton of coffee by his side, was also reading reports.

Harmas introduced himself and Terrell got out of his chair to shake hands. He had heard of Harmas’ reputation and of Maddox’s brilliance.

“Glad to have you here,” Terrell said. “Have some coffee?”

Harmas shook his head. He settled himself on the hard upright chair.

“Maddox sent me down in case I could help,” he explained. “What do you make of it so far?”

Terrell leaned his massive body back in his chair.

“This is a clever, well organised steal. The gang obviously had in ride information. They must have got at Raysons’ blueprints to have opened those safes. It is possible they could have done the Lowenstein and the Jacksons’ steals some days or even some weeks before they did the Lewis job. I think it’s possible they got information that both Mrs. Lowenstein and the Jacksons were out of town. They could have got this information from the local paper’s gossip column. The Lewis job bothers me. This doesn’t conform to pattern. The other two steals were neat. Whoever did the job knew both houses were only guarded by a servant. The Lewis steal is different. Whoever did that job must have known Mrs. Lewis was in the room where the safe was. The murder was premeditated. I’m saying this because the killer took a bronze statue from the hall, climbed the stairs and brutally killed her with it. The fact he did this, rather than killing her with a weapon in the bedroom points to deliberate intent to murder. This upsets the pattern of the other two jobs. Jewel thieves are seldom killers. So we have a set-up with the Lewis job that puzzles me.”

Harmas nodded. What Terrell said made sense to him.

“I’ve been talking to Hacked” Harmas said. “You’re right. This gang did get access to Hacket’s blueprints. His office is protected as you know, but he has his own generator. I’ve talked to the janitor. He tells me ten days ago, an electrician wearing the uniform of the City’s Electricity Co. called, saying there was a fault. The janitor let him have the run of the basement. I suggest you check on this and check the generator plant for fingerprints.”

Terrell swung around in his chair.

“Joe, cover this! Send the fingerprint boys down to that basement right now!”

Beigler left the room with surprising swiftness for a man of his size.

“I have a feeling,” Terrell went on, looking at Harmas, “that the Lewis job is divorced from the other two steals. I could be wrong because the three steals have the same professional touch. In each case there are no signs of how the thieves got into the houses: all the locks are tricky. But in the Lewis case, a window was left open as if showing us how the thief broke in. This didn’t happen with the other two steals.”

“Maddox is thinking along the same lines,” Harmas said. “He told me to take a look at Harry Lewis, the husband.”

“We’re taking a good look at him,” Terrell said quietly. “I have two good men digging. The jewels taken from Mrs. Lowenstein and from Mrs. Jackson could be broken up, but the Esmaldi necklace would lose half its value if it was broken up. I’m now wondering if the Lewis steal should be considered as something separate.”

Harmas stretched and suppressed a yawn.

“Yeah... it’s an idea. Well, Chief, I’ve had a long day. I’m going to relax. You can find me at the Plaza Hotel if you want me. I’ll keep in touch.”

But when Harmas left police headquarters, he drove to Alan Frisby’s home, knowing Frisby, at this time, would have left his office.

As the National Fidelity Insurance district agent, Frisby was pleased to welcome Harmas. He introduced him to his wife, Janet, and to his seven-year-old twin sons, then he led Harmas out onto the terrace and the two men sat down.

Janet, a nice-looking brunette, said she would put the twins to bed and then they would all have supper on the terrace.

While she was busy, Harmas and Frisby discussed the robberies.

“This gang is well organised,” Harmas said. “What interests me is how they knew where to find the jewels. Their field work is impressive. They knew Mrs. Lowenstein was in a clinic otherwise the girl wouldn’t have called on the house, claiming Mrs. L. had asked for an estimate. That goes for Mrs. Jackson’s place too.”

“They could have got their information from the local rag,” Frisby said.

“I have an idea they have been collecting information from Raysons and from you without either of you knowing it. What I want you to do is to let me have a list of the names of everyone who has visited your office over the past four weeks.”

“Nothing simpler. We always keep a log of everyone coming to us, but I think you are wasting your time.”

Harmas smiled.

“Maddox would love to hear that remark. He is firmly convinced I never do anything else except waste time.”

Harry Lewis sat in his study.

He was listening to the heavy tramp of the undertakers’ feet as they went up to Lisa’s room. Each footfall made him flinch. Then there was a long silence and he imagined these men lifting the disfigured dead body from the bed to the coffin. He clenched his fists. But he could feel no pity for Lisa. She had condemned him now to live alone. All she had left him was money.

He listened to the heavy tread as they brought the coffin down and the whispered words of caution as the men manoeuvred the coffin around the sharp bend of the staircase, and then finally the snap of the doors of the hearse as they closed.

Well, now she is gone, he thought, reaching for his glass. He had been drinking steadily since he had returned to this big, luxury house which was now his. He listened as the hearse drove away. He was free of her, yet he wasn’t free of her. He would have to get rid of this house. He couldn’t continue to live in it. He would have to get rid of the staff. He would have to make a new life for himself.

Tania! Would she accept the position of his mistress? He remembered what she had said to him: If anything happens to her, would you marry me? He rubbed his hand wearily across his face. He would have to be very careful how he explained the situation to her. With his sudden enormous wealth, he could give her everything she wanted except marriage and a position in Paradise City’s society. He knew he dare not live openly in sin with her. The Yacht Club, the English Club, the narrow minded rich who he now would mix with wouldn’t stand for him living with a Vietnamese waitress, no matter how much money he had... they wouldn’t take that.

He leaned back in his chair, thinking. Maybe it was better after all not to be in a position to marry Tania. He wanted to keep in with Lisa’s friends. A Vietnamese... no, maybe it was for the best, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. She was in his blood like a virus. He would explain tactfully and he was sure she would understand.

He looked at his watch. It was now after eight o’clock. He decided he would go to the Saigon restaurant. He had had no lunch, but even now he wasn’t hungry, but he could talk to Tania. He had to talk to her.

As he got to his feet, he realised he was free to go to her. No more sneaking out at night. No one to check on him. In a few days, once the will was settled, he would get rid of the staff, sell the house and look for something smaller where he could lead a bachelor’s life.

As he walked through the hall, To-To appeared.

“I’m dining out,” Harry said curtly and went down to the garage without looking at To-To.

Dong Tho welcomed him with a low bow, his yellow face grave. He took him through the noisy bustle of the restaurant to the private room. He said nothing about Lisa, but the way he behaved, his low bows, he conveyed to Harry his distress and sympathy.

“I’ll have soup... nothing else,” Harry said, sitting at the table. “Is Tania here?”

“I will send her to you, Mr. Lewis.”

Harry lit a cigarette and stared bleakly out of the window, realising how nervous he was.

A waiter brought the soup. Harry guessed that Tania would wait until he had finished his meal before coming to the room. When he had finished the soup, he pushed away the bowl and relaxed, watching the tourists on the quay.

The door opened and Tania came in. She was wearing a white tunic over black trousers. She wore no make-up and there were dark smudges under her eyes. She paused as she closed the door. They looked at each other, then she came and sat down opposite him.

“I heard it on the radio,” she said softly. “I wanted to telephone, but I thought I had better not. This is a terrible thing, Harry.”

He nodded.

“You remember what I said... about destiny?” she went on. “I lit a candle for her.”

Again Harry nodded. He was watching her, aware that he could read nothing from her expression of her feelings. Even the almond-shaped eyes told him nothing.

“You are free now,” she said after a long pause.

“Yes.”

They regarded each other, then she sensed his uneasiness and she leaned forward, her small slim hands resting on the tablecloth.

“You are free, Harry?”

Harry hesitated, then without looking at the beautiful, oriental face, he said, “I have all her money... everything she owned, but I’m not really free.”

He saw her hands turn into fists.

“What does that mean please?”

Again Harry hesitated. She may as well know now, he thought. She has to know sooner or later.

“There’s a clause in the will...” He forced himself to face her. They sat motionless, staring at each other. Tania’s face had hardened. It was as if the muscles under her skin had turned to stone. He scarcely knew her now and her black eyes seemed to have turned to glass.

“What clause?” she asked.

“I lose everything if I marry again. Everything will go to a cripples’ home.”

Tania remained motionless: her hands into fists, her eyes blank. She said nothing.

With an unsteady hand, Harry stubbed out his cigarette.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said finally. “She has been a bitch to the end. But now I have all the money I could ever need. There is nothing you can’t have...”

“Thank you. I see, but I am to remain your whore?”

Harry reached for her hands, but she snatched them away, dropping them into her lap.

“Don’t talk like that, Tania,” he pleaded. “I can do so much for you now, but I can’t do anything for you if we married. You must understand.”

“What can you do for me?” she demanded.

“Ask... anything. You can have a beautiful house... you can furnish it just as you like. Any car you want... jewels... clothes... there’s nothing I can’t give you.”

“But I can’t became your wife?”

Harry spread his hands.

“No.”

“I can’t meet your friends? I’m to remain a whore?”

“Tania! You know how much I love you... you’re hurting me talking this way.”

“Truth often hurts.”

Harry lit another cigarette. Was he going to lose her? he wondered. He was sick with anxiety.

“Please try to understand, darling,” he said. “Please...”

She lifted her shoulders.

“I will try to understand. I must think about it.” She got to her feet. “Please keep away from me for a few days.” She went out of the room.

Harry sat for a long time, staring blankly out at the quay. Then, with an effort, he got to his feet and walked into the busy restaurant. He gave the smiling waiter a ten dollar tip. As he moved to the main exit, Dong Tho came out of the shadows.

“Please be patient with her, Mr. Lewis,” he said, bowing. “She is very young and still romantic.”

Harry nodded and went out to where his car was parked.

Johnny woke with a start. He had gone to bed early, leaving Martha and Henry on the terrace and Gilda glued to the TV set. He wanted to be alone. The knowledge that he would have to wait two years before he got his garage irked him. He felt pretty sure the garage in Carmel would be sold before he could afford to put in a bid, so he would have to shop around for something else. But he knew he had to be patient. Anything done in a hurry now would be fatal.

Eventually, still hearing Martha talking on the terrace and the sound of the TV set, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Now he was awake and he became aware that his bedroom door was softly opening.

The window was open and the moonlight made a puddle of silver 6n the carpet. He looked at the face of his watch: the time was just after two o’clock.

He waited, tense, ready to spring out of bed, then he relaxed as Gilda came silently into the room.

“Are you awake?”

“Yes... what is it?”

He lay still, watching her as she moved to the bed and sat on the edge of it. She was wearing a white wrap which she held closely to her.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

He reached for the bedside lamp, but paused as she raised her hand.

“No, please...”

He regarded her, then shrugged.

“You shouldn’t be here... what is it?”

“I’m scared, Johnny.”

“Why?”

“I have a feeling we’re in a trap... Martha feels the same way.”

“That fat old bitch...”

“She feels it... and Henry too. They’re relying on you now, Johnny... so am I.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! We are taking a risk, but we’ll get away with it,” Johnny said irritably. “They can’t prove anything even if they find us. It’s just a matter of keeping our nerve.”

“I wish I could feel like you do.”

“I can’t stiffen your spine... that’s up to you.”

“You don’t care for anyone but yourself, do you, Johnny?”

“Why the hell should I? Don’t let’s go over all that again!”

“No, I’m sorry.” She sat still, her hands in her lap. The moonlight lit her hair, putting her face in a shadow. She looked very beautiful as she stared down at him. “You see, Johnny, I’ve been thinking. I love you. I feel sure we are coming to the end of our road. Something bad is going to happen to us all. I know you don’t love me, but I do want something to remember you by... please make love to me.”

“Something bad? What the hell do you mean?”

“Does it matter?” She stood up and dropped the wrap from her. “I’m offering myself to you.”

He stared at her naked body, the moonlight striking across her breasts.

“You’d better get out of here,” he said harshly. “Go on... beat it! I’ve done some rotten things in my life, but I’m not going to kid you... get out!”

She moved to him, slid down beside him and put her arms around him.

“Just for me to remember you by, Johnny,” she said softly. “Please...”

For a moment he resisted the feel of her yielding flesh, then he pulled her roughly to him.

Captain Terrell was reading through a mass of reports he had found waiting for him when he arrived at his office. The time now was half-past ten and he was reaching for his third carton of coffee when Steve Harmas came in.

“Hi, Chief,” Harmas said, dropping onto an upright chair. “How’s it going?”

“Working on this white Opel car,” Terrell said, and grimaced. “Believe it or not there are two hundred and three registered white Opels in this district and fifteen registered with Hertz. Looks like a long slog to check them all.”

“I can save you a little work,” Harmas said. “Look at the Hertz list. Got a Colonel Shelley down there?”

Terrell stared at him, then picked up the list. He scanned it, then nodded.

“Yeah... Colonel Shelley of Villa Bellevue hired a white Opel on 27th August.”

Harmas grinned happily.

“We’re getting hot.”

“Bellevue... that’s Jack Carson’s place. He rents it out at $1,500 a month.”

“Could be our people. I got Frisby, our agent, and Hacket to give me a list of people who visited them during the past four weeks,” Harmas said, lighting a cigarette. “On both lists up comes Colonel and Mrs. Shelley. Now, they have hired a white Opel. I like the look of it.”

Terrell scratched the side of his jaw as he thought.

“I’d better get a couple of my men over there and have them take a look at them.”

Harmas shook his head.

“Don’t let’s rush this, Chief. I’ll call Maddox. He knows all the jewel thieves of any account the way you know the top of your desk. Mrs. Shelley is fat. Both Frisby and Hacket tell me she’s the fattest woman they have ever seen. Let’s see what Maddox says first.”

Terrell waved to the telephone.

“Call him.”

It took only five minutes to get through to Maddox.

“I have a big, fat woman who could be a suspect,” Harmas said. “Does that jell? Big and really fat, around fifty-five, blonde. She’s with a man who calls himself Colonel Shelley: looks like an aged stork: full of old Kentucky manners.”

“That’s Fats Gummrich and Jasie the Duke,” Maddox said promptly. “Ha! This job’s right up that fat old cow’s alley! I’ll send you their photos, Steve. Meet the three o’clock plane. Nice work.”

“We haven’t a shred of proof,” Harmas said.

“Then get some!” Maddox barked and hung up.

Harmas winced and replaced the receiver.

“He knows them,” he said to Terrell. “We get their photos on the three o’clock plane.” He went on to tell Terrell what Maddox had said. “Better wait until we get the photos, huh?”

Terrell nodded.

“But with the photos we still haven’t got anything on them.”

“Did anything come out of my idea to check the generator for prints?”

“I’m waiting. We got a mass of prints. They’ve gone to Washington. I should hear any time now.” Terrell reached for his telephone and called Hess. “Fred? Heard anything from Washington yet?”

“No, Chief. If they turn up anything, they said they would call back right away.”

Terrell grunted and replaced the receiver.

“We’ll have to wait.”

Harmas climbed lazily to his feet.

“I guess I’ll take a look at your City. I’ll pick up the photos at three and then come over here. Okay?”

“Do that,” Terrell said.

The morning passed quickly for Harmas. He returned to his hotel, put on a pair of swimming trunks and went down to the beach. He believed in relaxing. If Maddox had seen him, lying under a sun umbrella, watching the various girls in their skimpy bikinis disporting themselves in the sea, he would have had a coronary. Harmas was happy. He had an instinctive feeling that he was going to break this case and he saw no point now in exerting himself. He picked up with a gay, nice-looking blonde and they had lunch together. It was strictly platonic although Harmas got the idea that it could cease to be at the slightest encouragement from him, but dutifully faithful to his wife who he adored, he restrained himself.

He drove to the airport, arriving there as the ’Frisco plane touched down. He accepted the envelope the air hostess gave him and paused to flirt with her harmlessly. Pretty girls were his weakness up to a certain point. He then drove to Raysons’ Safe Co. and showed Hacket the two photographs.

Hacket took one look and nodded.

“That’s them. Who are they?”

“According to Maddox, she is Fats Gummrich and he is Jasie the Duke... both smart jewel thieves.”

“So you think they got at my files?”

“Looks like it, doesn’t it?”

Hacket raised his hands helplessly.

“My boss will love that!”

“Take it easy... could have happened to anyone.”

Harmas next drove to Alan Frisby’s office and got him also to identify the photographs, then satisfied, he drove to police headquarters.

“There they are,” he said, dropping the two photos on Terrell’s desk. “Both Hacket and Frisby identify them. Now we have to dig up some evidence against them.”

“I’ve dug up something,” Terrell said with satisfaction. “We’ve just had a call from Washington. Fingerprints found on the generator belong to a guy named Johnny Robins.” He went on to give Harmas a brief outline of Johnny’s background. “Known to be violent,” he concluded. “I’ve had a check on Hertz car rentals. They say the Opel was taken away by a man answering Robins’ description. I’ve checked the Real Estate agent who let Bellevue to the Shelleys. He has given the same description of their chauffeur.”

“Still isn’t proof,” Harmas said.

“That’s right. We now have to take a chance. I have obtained a search warrant. We’ll go there right away and take the villa to pieces. With any luck we might find something to nail them with.”

“And if you don’t find anything?”

“We have enough to arrest Robins and we’ll bring him here and work him over. He could crack.” Terrell got up.

“Mind if I come along?”

“Sure. Glad to have you.”

Harmas followed Terrell out into the passage where Hess, Beigler and Lepski were waiting. Six uniformed officers were already in a car, waiting in the police car park.

Johnny swam around Gilda as she floated on her back, staring up at the blueness of the sky, feeling the heat of the sun on her face, her hands moving lazily to keep her balance.

Johnny trod water, coming close to her. Feeling he was gazing at her, she looked at him and smiled.

Their night together had been a success. At first, he had taken her brutally, hurting her. Then later, in the small hours of the morning, as the red rim of the sun crept over the horizon, he had taken her as she had hoped he might take her. His slow, gentle thrusts into her had given her the pleasure she had so often thought could happen to her but up to now hadn’t experienced. When it was over, Johnny had drawn her to him, enfolding her with a tenderness that she could scarcely believe.

And now, swimming together, she felt confident. She was sure she had done the right thing by giving herself to him. There was a new look in Johnny’s eyes as they smiled at each other.

“Let’s go back,” Johnny said. “Two hours before dinner... I want you.”

She put her wet hand on his shoulder.

“I want you too.”

They swam slowly side by side and when they reached the beach, they walked across the sand, hand in hand. Gilda’s white bikini was plastered to her body and Johnny looked at her, feeling the urge to make love to her right there on the hot sand, his grip on her hand hurt her, but she didn’t mind. She read his thoughts and returned his pressure.

“Let’s hurry,” she said and breaking away from him, she ran up the steps, shaking her wet hair and reached the terrace. Then she stopped short, her heart missing a beat as she saw four men sitting stiffly on bamboo chairs, facing Martha. Behind them stood five police officers, relaxed but very alert, leaning against the terrace rail.

She felt Johnny’s hand on her spine and she shuddered. He pushed her gently aside and walked across the terrace until he reached Martha who was sitting solid, like an enormous lump of inanimated flesh, staring at Captain Terrell like a rabbit facing a ferret.

“What goes on?” Johnny asked calmly.

Gaining courage from Johnny’s manner, Henry said, “There’s some mistake... these gentlemen are police officers.” He waved his old, freckled hand.

“You Johnny Robins?” Terrell asked, getting to his feet.

“That’s my name,” Johnny said quietly.

“We have reason to believe you and these others are connected with the inquiries we are making concerning the Lowenstein and the Jackson jewel robberies and also Mrs. Lewis’s murder,” Terrell said. “We have a search warrant. Have you anything to say?”

Johnny walked over to where a towel was hanging over the back of a chair. He began to dry himself.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. As the Colonel has said... there must be some mistake.”

Terrell looked at Gilda, standing petrified, her face chalk white. “You anything to say?”

She tried to control her terror.

“N-no.”

Hess came out onto the terrace. His hard eyes gleamed with triumph.

“You!” He pointed a stubby finger at Johnny. “Your room the third on the left down the corridor?”

Johnny stiffened, feeling a sudden cold rush of blood down his spine.

“Yes... so what?”

“Come with me,” Hess said. “I’ve something to show you.”

Now uneasy, now a little scared, Johnny walked with Hess across the big living-room, down the corridor and into his bedroom.

“I left it as I found it,” Hess said. “Now you tell me you’ve never seen it before.”

There was a hard-faced cop, holding one of Johnny’s jackets. From the pocket, he took a three string rope of pearls.

“Yours?” Hess barked.

Johnny stared at the necklace, feeling the blood draining out of his face. He had completely forgotten that he had taken it from Abe Schulman as “treachery” money and had kept it as he had told Martha as “danger” money. He was quick to recover from the shock, but not quick enough. Watching him, Hess saw the look of dismay and the loss of colour before Johnny’s face became blank and sullen.

“I know nothing about that,” Johnny said, aware his voice was husky. He cleared his throat, then went on, “You planted it on me.”

“Tell that to the Judge,” Hess sneered. “Oh, boy! Are you in trouble, you creep!”

Johnny now had his nerve back, but he realised it was a little late.

“Screw you,” he said. “You planted that on me and you can’t prove otherwise.”

“Let’s see what Fats says,” Hess said and taking the pearl necklace from the officer, he walked past Johnny and out onto the terrace. He dropped the necklace on the table in front of Martha.

“Take a look at this,” he said. “Okay, I know you didn’t kill her, but if you don’t come clean, Fats, we’ll have you on an accessory rap and sister! will you go away for a long, long time!”

Martha recognised the necklace. Her fat face turned into a quivering jelly.

“He did it, the vicious sonofabitch!” she shrilled. “I knew nothing about it! He tried to gyp us! He went there and killed her and took the Esmaldi diamonds! We knew nothing about it... I swear we didn’t!”

“Stop it!” Gilda screamed, rushing across the terrace. “Stop it, you horrible old woman! He didn’t do it!”

Two police officers grabbed and held her.

Johnny came out onto the terrace. Sobbing, Gilda tried to go to him, but she was held back.

“Oh, Johnny... Johnny... I knew it!”

Martha and Henry went in the first police car. Gilda, still sobbing, went with Flo, the maid, in the second. Johnny, now handcuffed, went with Hess in the third.

Martha was quivering and she put her hand on Henry’s arm for comfort.

“Have you that pill?” Henry asked, his lips scarcely moving.

Martha shook her head.

Henry shrugged. He pushed her hand away. He was suddenly not sure even if she had had the pill if he would have taken it. Perhaps not. It needed courage to end your life in cold blood, and at his age, Henry was running out of courage.