Figure it Out For Yourself (7 page)

'You're being absurd...' Marshland said, a faint flush coming to his face. His eyes looked hard and bitter.

She turned away from him to me.

'Are you coming with me?'

'Whenever you're ready, Mrs. Dedrick.'

'Then bring the money and come!'

She ran to the front door, jerked it open and went out on to the terrace.

Wadlock gave me the three packages.

'You'll take care of her, sir,' he said.

I gave him a crooked grin.

'You bet.'

Marshland walked away without looking at me.

'She's very upset, sir,' Wadlock murmured. He looked upset himself.

I ran along the terrace, down the steps to the Cadillac.

'I'll drive,' I said and tossed the packages into the back of the car. 'I won't be a moment. I want my gun.'

I left her getting into the Cad. and ran over to the Buick.

'Monte Verde Mine,' I said. 'Give us five minutes, then come on - and watch out, Jack.'

A soft moan came from under the rug, but I didn't wait. I went back to the Cadillac and climbed under the steering wheel. Serena sat huddled up in a corner. She was crying.

I sent the car shooting down the drive.

'Don't let it get you down.'

She went on crying quietly. I decided perhaps it was the best thing for her, and drove as fast as I could without taking risks, and ignored her.

As we drove along Orchid Boulevard I said, 'Better get hold of yourself now. You haven't told me yet what was said. If we make one false move, we may spoil his chance of getting back to you. These guys will be a lot more scared than we are. Now, come on, pull yourself together, and tell me. What did they say?'

It took her some minutes to control herself, and it wasn't until we were shooting up Monte Verde Avenue that she told me.

The money is to be left on the roof of a shed standing before the old shaft. I don't know if you know it?'

'I know it. What else?'

'Each parcel is to be placed at least a foot apart and in a row. After we have placed the parcels we must leave immediately.'

'That the lot?'

She gave a little shiver.

'Except for the usual threats about setting a trap.'

They didn't bring your husband to the 'phone?'

'No. Why should they?'

'Sometimes they do.'

The fact they hadn't made it look bad for Dedrick, but I didn't tell her so.

'Was it the same man who spoke to you before?'

'I think so.'

'The same muffled voice?'

'Yes.'

'All right. Now this is what we do. I'll stop the car at the entrance to the mine. You stay in the car. I'll take the money and put it on the roof. You'll be able to see every move I make. I'll come straight back and get into the car. You will drive. At the beginning of Venture Avenue you'll slow down and I'll drop off. You carry on and get back to the house.'

'Why are you dropping off?'

'I may catch sight of them.'

'No!' She caught hold of my arm. 'Do you want them to kill him? We're leaving the money and doing what they tell us. You've got to promise.'

'Well, all right; it's your money. If they double-cross you, you'll stand no chance of catching up with them. I'll guarantee they won't see me.'

'No!' she repeated. 'I'm not going to give them any opportunity to go back on the bargain.'

I swung the long black nose of the Cad into San Diego High-way.

'All right, but it's the wrong way to play it.'

She didn't answer.

There was a lot of traffic belting along the Highway, and it took me some minutes before I could swing the car across to the dirt track leading to the mine. We went bumping over the uneven surface of the track. It was dark and forlorn up there, and the headlamps bounced off great clumps of scrub and dumps of rubbish. Although only a few hundred yards or so off the main Highway, once on this track it was as lonely and as dark as the inside of a tomb.

Ahead of me was the entrance to the mine. One of the high wooden gates had been blown off its hinges. The other still stood upright, but only just. I pulled up before the gateway. The headlights sent a long, searching beam along the cracked concrete driveway that led directly to the head of the shaft.

We could see the shed. It was not more than seven feet high; a rotten, derelict building where probably at one time the time-keeper had sheltered while he checked in the miners.

'Well, that's it. Now you wait here. If anything happens get out of the car and run for it.'

She was staring at the shed as if she expected to see Dedrick come out of it. Her face looked as if it was carved out of ice.

I got out, opened the rear door and collected the three par-cels. Holding them under one arm, I loosened the .38 in its holster and set off down the driveway towards the shed.

Only the distant rumble of traffic on the Highway disturbed the silence. Nothing moved. No one jumped out on me with a gun. It seemed a long way to the shed, and the brilliant headlamps made me a nice target for anyone with a trigger itch. I was glad when I got there. My right hand slid inside my coat and rested on the gun butt as I peered through the half-open door.

Only a broken chair, a lot of dirt and scraps of paper on the floor greeted me. The headlights of the car went through the doorway and made two pools of light on the spider-infested wall.

I was reluctant to leave all that money on the roof of the shed. I had a feeling Serena would never see it again; nor would she buy Dedrick back with it. But I had been hired to put the money there, so I put it there. I placed the packages along the rusty, corrugated roof in a row, spacing them carefully a foot apart as she had been instructed. There was nothing more to do. I would have liked very much to have hidden near-by and watched, but if I was spotted and Dedrick died, I would have his death on my conscience. She was right. Her one hope was to trust them to carry out their end of the bargain.

I walked towards the car, my flesh creeping a little, still a target for anyone who wanted to shed a little blood. I wondered if they were watching. There were many number of places to hide in this ruined mine.

I reached the Cadillac, jerked open the door and slid under the wheel.

She was crying again.

'If you're sure you don't want me to watch, I'll take you back,' I said, not looking at her.

'Take me back,' she said in a muffled voice and turned away from me.

As I drove through the gates I caught sight of a shadowy figure that ducked behind a pile of old railway sleepers. I thought it was Kerman, but couldn't be sure. If it was Kerman, he would probably hang around and see something. I looked quickly at Serena, but she was busy with her handkerchief and hadn't noticed anything.

In a more optimistic mood I headed for Ocean End.

The hands of the clock on the mantelpiece showed a quarter past two. I sat alone in the lounge, nibbling at a whisky and soda, staring at a silver-and-gold inlaid Mexican saddle that was hanging on the wall without particularly noticing it.

Serena was upstairs somewhere.

We had been waiting for two and a half hours.

A sudden soft whistle from behind me jerked me round I and spilt my whisky.

'Lousy nerves you've got,' Kerman said, coming in. 'Is that whisky you've spilt?'

'There's plenty more. Help yourself. You look as if you could use it.'

'I can.' He crossed to the wagon and mixed himself a long stiff drink. 'Phew! Think we'll get any sleep tonight?'

'Never mind sleep. Did you see anything?'

He flopped into an armchair opposite me.

'No. At least I didn't see them, but I did see the money go.'

'But didn't you see who took it?'

He shook his head.

'The guy's smart He kept hidden. I think he was probably standing on one of the girders that support the shaft head. It was pitch dark up there. Anyway, he must have been above the roof of the shed. He had a fishing rod. One of those deep-sea rods, I should imagine. It would have to be something pretty hefty to take the weight of those parcels. He just dropped a hook on the parcel and fished it off the roof into the darkness. I never heard a sound or caught a glimpse of him. It was damned spooky seeing those parcels take off in the moonlight until I tumbled to what he was doing.'

'Yes, that's smart. Did he see you, Jack?'

'Not a chance.'

'Don't be too sure. I saw you.'

'I'll bet my life you didn't. Besides, I didn't arrive until you were driving away. I saw your tail lights. And when I reached the mine I was crawling around like a Red Indian.'

'Well, I saw someone as I was leaving.'

'It couldn't have been me.'

I tried to remember what the shadowy figure had looked like. It had certainly reminded me of Kerman, so that would make it tall, broad-shouldered and lean. Not much to go on, but something.

'Must have been one of the gang. I wish I had seen more of him.' I looked at my wrist-watch. 'In another quarter of an hour we should hear: if we're going to hear.'

Kerman rubbed weary knuckles into his eyes.

'I feel whacked. That five-hour wait in the car nearly killed me. Think they'll turn him loose?'

'I don't know. I can't see them doing it. It'll be a lucky break for him if they do.'

'Brandon's going to love this if he doesn't come back,' Kerman said, stifling a yawn.

'It's her responsibility.'

'But we are accessories. He'll be scared to curse her, but he'll have something to say to us.'

'Well, let him say it,' I said, got up and tramped across to the wagon to make another drink. My hand hovered over the bottle as Franklin Marshland came silently into the room.

'So you've got back safely,' he said. 'I must say I was very worried.' He looked inquiringly at Jack Kerman.

I introduced them.

'A very long, unpleasant wait,' Marshland went on. 'Surely it's time they communicated with us?'

'It needs five minutes to the three hours,' I said, giving Kerman another drink and going back to the settee. 'If they've released him, they'll make sure he doesn't get back here until they are well out of town.'

He half turned to stare at me.

'I think it's extremely unlikely they will release him,' he said 'If we don't hear in another half-hour I propose calling the Police.'

'That's up to you,' I said, 'but as we've waited so long, I think we should wait until daylight. Even now any false move might be dangerous for him.'

'I think he's dead.'

I felt tired, and beyond making aimless small-talk.

'Just what is it you dislike so much about Lee Dedrick, Mr. Marshland?'

He ignored this question, and stepped out on to the terrace. He remained out there for three or four minutes, then came in again and headed for the door.

I'd better see how my daughter is,' he said, more to himself than to us. 'This wait is very hard on her.' At the door he paused, looked back at me. 'A man who marries a woman for her money is always worthy of contempt, Mr. Malloy.'

He went out of the room, and we listened to his footsteps on the stairs.

Kerman made a grimace.

'Did he marry her for her money?' he asked in a whisper.

'I don't know.' I jerked my thumb at the clock. 'Five minutes overdue.'

'Doesn't look very healthy, does it?'

There's nothing we can do except wait. I swung my legs up on the settee. 'I like that girl. Maybe she is a little over-rich and probably spoilt, but she's got a tender heart.'

Kerman grunted.

'I like 'em hard and shiny,' he said, and closed his eyes.

Minutes ticked by. We began to doze. We finally slept.

The first rays of the morning sun brought me upright with a start. I looked at the clock. It showed a quarter to seven. Kerman slept soundly. I heard no sound except the gentle beating of the surf on the low ridge of coral stone that made a natural harbour at the end of the garden.

I swung my legs off the settee and walked on to the terrace.

The two Chinese gardeners were at work, staring at the umbrella standard. The flamingoes were grouped around the lily pond, hunting up some breakfast On a balcony at the far end of the terrace, Serena Dedrick, still in her black slacks and her short fur coat, sat staring out to sea. There was a 1ost look on her white face: a look that told me no one had tele-phoned while we slept, and no one had sent him back.

I walked quietly into the lounge and left her alone with her misery.

THE next four days were a sustained and shattering bedlam that shook the usually placid, unruffled calm and quiet of Orchid City to its foundations.

When the news broke that five hundred thousand dollars had been paid to a gang of kidnappers and the kidnapped man had not been returned, the country as far north as San Francisco and as far south as Los Angeles sprang into action.

For the first few hours, Brandon had it all his own way, and revelled in the commotion. He began to organize what was to be the greatest man-hunt of the century, but he had scarcely begun to issue orders when a dozen sharp-eyed Federal agents descended on him from San Francisco and snatched away his command.

State troopers, regular Army units, aircraft, television and the radio were pressed into service.

Kerman and I spent hours at Police Headquarters being questioned and cross-questioned by a furious, purple-faced fist-pounding Brandon, and later by two quiet Federal agents who took us apart, laid us on the desk, poked us about with long inquisitive fingers, and weren't over-fussy how they put is together again.

We were bullied and threatened and cursed. We had fists shaken in our faces. Necks swelled, eyes turned bloodshot and spittle flew in all directions with the intensity of trying to get a clue out of us. But we hadn't a clue to give out.