Angel's Ransom (16 page)

‘He would be a fool if he were not absolutely sure of Roche,’ Valentina said. ‘And he is not a fool. The money
will arrive.’

Freddy
’s
expression of unhappy doubt did not change, but he did not offer other argument. No one else had any further
suggestions before Blake left the galley, cautioning the
others to stay in the forward part of the cruiser. Holtz,
hidden somewhere back aft, was unpredictable in his
present mood.

Afterward Blake spent more time than was necessary in the engine-room, leaving it with several lengths of wire
wrapped around his middle under his shirt. He had armed
the ends of the wires with battery clips, and he carried a
screwdriver and pliers in separate pockets so they would not clink.

The precautions were well taken. Jules did not leave the pilot-house immediately, but stayed to chart and log a
change of course he had made. The
Angel
’s
new bearing was
240 degrees, a course that would take them away from
southern Mediterranean steamer lanes and within sight of
the Balearics if they continued on it.

Bending over the parallel ruler and dividers with which he was working, Jules said gruffly, ‘You were lucky only one of
you got shot.’

‘I know it.’

‘What did he do it for?’

‘He was a fool.’

‘If there are any more fools aboard, Captain, sit on them.’ Jules looked up from the chart table almost in plea. ‘The fat
boy
’s
money is none of your loss. Would you put up a fight
for it if the roulette wheel got it from him instead of us?’

‘Nobody is putting up a fight for it. Bruno wanted to be a hero.’

‘
S
o he
’s
feeding the fishes.’ Jules moved toward the door, then turned back for a final, urgent word of warning.
‘Listen to me, Captain. If you haven’t learned it already,
Holtz is a killer. Me, I’ll give it to you quick enough if you
ask for it, but not for fun. He likes it. If you want the rest of
your passengers to get back to Monaco alive, you tell them
to stay out of his way as much as they can, jump when he
tells them to jump, and forget any smart ideas they may be
thinking about. Understand me?’

‘I understand you.’

The sailor jerked his head at the chronometer over the chart table. ‘You’ve got only forty-eight hours to go. Stick
it out.’

George Saunders continued to feel pleased with himself. Neyrolle
’s
humble request for assistance had given him a
feeling of power over not only the
sous-chef
but the whole
organization of
Sûreté
Publique
as well. It was almost like
having the police force of the Principality working as
legmen
to gather pieces of a story which, he had a feeling, might be
one of the news breaks of the year, all his own. He did not
see anything censurable in hoping that the
Angel
had, in
fact, been pirated, and that its passengers were in spectacular
captivity. He regretted only that he did not know the facts.
To George, the story was what counted. That, and the
by-line.

Neyrolle telephoned in the middle of the afternoon with news of progress. He said, ‘We’ve picked up a
connection
to
Blake
’s
feminine visitor. She
’s
in my office now - the c
onnection
, that is. Do you want to talk with her?’

‘I’ll be right down. Keep her there.’

George was at the Bureau within minutes. The woman waiting in the
sous-
chef
’
’
s
office was a plainly dressed, middle-aged Monegasque with
workworn
hands and a shrewd
peasant face whom Neyrolle presented by explaining that
she ran a small pension in Monaco-Ville.

‘It is one of the advantages of an
arrondissement
as small as mine that there are not an infinite number of places for
transients to stay,’ he said. ‘Had the girl been a resident, it
could have been more difficult. Be kind enough to tell M.
Saunders the facts about your vanished guests as you told
them to me,
Madame
.’

‘I did not say that they have vanished,’ the woman protested. ‘An absence for a single night does not mean a disappearance forever. I only said that when one stays at a
pension
like my own, one ordinarily eats the meals for which
one is paying, and I have not
seen either of them since break
fast yesterday. The American girl left her clothes behind,
also her luggage. Also her passport, which I have already
given to you, monsieur, and certain letters.’

‘You can see them later,’ Neyrolle told George. ‘The girl will be easy enough to trace. Tell us more about the man,
Madame
.’

‘I have very little to tell, as you already know. He called himself Holtz, a small man, as I have described him to you.
I never learned his nationality. He did not leave his passport
where I would see it
–’

Neyrolle interrupted sternly. ‘You know the law,
Madame
.
A passport or
carte
d'identité
must always be demanded.’

‘He was with me only three days, monsieur. He kept promising tomorrow - tomorrow - he did not have his
papers with him
–’

‘And paid well for the oversight, no doubt,’ Neyrolle said. ‘What languages did he speak?’

‘French with me
, English with the girl, Provenç
al on the telephone. His clothes do not have tailors’ labels in them, or
any other identification. His business, he said, was his own.’
The woman sniffed. ‘I would be as reluctant as he to confess
that I was a process-server.’

The
sous-chef
did not meet George
’s
quick glance. George said, ‘How did you learn that, if he would not tell you his
business?’

‘He told the girl, thinking I would not understand English. One does not run a
pension
in Monaco-Ville without
learning a smattering of languages. I am no busybody,
but-’

‘What else did you overhear?’

The woman looked shrewdly at Neyrolle before she answered.

‘My English is far from perfect, monsieur. You understand? I could not swear under oath that they said this, that and the other, not a single word. I believe that she came
down from Paris looking for work, without a great deal of
money, and when she could not find a job he offered her
a sum, an amount I never heard mentioned, to witness
the service of a legal paper. That is what I think I
know.’

‘The paper could have been an attachment?’ George suggested. ‘On the yacht of an American, here in the
harbor
?’

‘Yes.’ It was a grudging agreement. ‘The
milliardaire
whose picture appears in the papers from time to time, along
with the amount of his losses at the Casino. But beyond that
and what I have told you, that the two went away together
yesterday morning and have not yet returned, I can swear
to nothing.’

‘You are not under oath,’ Neyrolle said patiently.

George said, ‘How long had they been your guests when they left?’

‘The girl, nearly a week. The man, three days.’

The woman answered questions for some time after that before she convinced George that she had no more to tell.
She gave up only one further small piece of information
which might have possible significance. Although Holtz
never had visitors at the pe
nsion, he received several tele
phone calls. At least one was from a man with a growling
bass voice who spoke with a Provencal accent.

‘The steward
’s
big
salaud
from the jetty answers that description well enough,’ Neyrolle said, when the woman
had been dismissed. He took an American passport from a
drawer and slid it across the desk to George. ‘The girl
puzzles me. Holtz, obviously, is an old hand, whatever his
game. The clothes without tailors’ labels, the caginess about
his identification papers, all speak of the experienced crook.
He knew inquiries would be made, and he was hiding his
tracks. The girl, on the other hand
–’

Neyrolle stopped. George had opened the passport and was staring at the photograph of its holder with an
expression
of stunned recognition. The
sous-chef
said quietly,
‘Where did you know her?’

‘In - in Paris.’ George
’s
bewildered expression did not change.
‘
S
he
’s
a showgirl.’

‘When did you see her last?’

‘A week ago. Ten days. Just before I came to Monte Carlo.’

‘Where did she live?’ Neyrolle was making rapid notes.

‘I don’t know. I met her at the Nouvelle Aphrodite. She took her clothes off there for the tourists - we went out
together a couple of times - but it
’s
all crazy! She can’t be in
Monaco! She was doing three shows a day - besides, she
would have looked me up - she knew I was here
–’

‘Apparently she was careful not to let you know that she was also here, which makes her carelessne
ss with the pass
port and letters even more puzzling. I do not understand
why she left such a clear trail behind her.’

‘Certainly you don’t think she
’s
mixed up in anything
crooked! At the worst, she may have seen a chance to make a little money by witnessing the service of a writ. There
’s
nothing wrong in that!’

‘There has been no writ of attachment issued against the
Angel
. An application for such an action is before the high
court. That is where matters stand at this moment.’

It took moments for the implications of the statement to penetrate George
’s
mind. He said, ‘What about the money
he offered her? What was she being paid for?’

Neyrolle reached to take the passport from George
’s
lax fingers before he replied.

‘Perhaps you can give me the answer to that.’

‘I don’t follow you.’

‘Observe. You go out with a girl in Paris while you are studying the habits and escapades of Freddy Farr. Inevitably, you discuss the subject which interests you, with her. :
She learns that Farr and his yacht are in Monaco, other
facts concerning his weakness for young and pretty girls.
She is young and pretty, as witness her photograph. She
comes to Monaco, careful to hide from you the fact of her
presence here, and vanishes at the same time that Farr, his
yacht and his guests disappear from the port in mysterious
circumstances. We find a clear link between her, Holtz and
the two men on the jetty, who have also disappeared. The
plot, whatever it is, gives evidence of careful planning, and
intimate knowledge of — ’

‘Wait a minute!’ George, furious, interrupted Neyrolle
’s
merciless logic by springing to his feet. ‘By God, if you’re
back on that same old single track again, I’m through! I’m
getting off here and now! You make your investigation!
I’ll dig up my own story!’

‘You are not through, and you are not getting off, monsieur.’ Neyrolle looked up at the red-faced reporter
with chill assurance. ‘I have, at last, reason to believe that
a crime against Freddy Farr was committed within my jurisdiction. By what means and to what end I intend to
discover, and take steps to bring the criminals to justice.
Until that is done, I shall not ask for your cooperation.
I shall demand it!’

V
alentina came to the pilot-house late in the day, alone. She said, ‘Holtz is still in hiding, and Jules is back on the after-deck. I thought it was safe for me to come for a few minutes.’
‘Not seeing Holtz doesn’t mean he isn’t seeing you,’ Blake
reminded her. ‘You’ll be safer if you keep it in mind. Even
up here.’