La Fleur Rouge The Red Flower (27 page)

Zack’s relieved voice came over the wire. “I think that’s a wise decision,” he said. “I only hope your hunch is right. We’re extremely worried. I’m sorry if I came down on you too hard, but it’s time you knew what Greg is really like.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jay told him. “See you in a few hours.”

“I’ll alert Peter and we’ll be waiting for you in the lobby,” Zack promised.

Jay hung up abruptly, threw a few things into a small suitcase, put the scripts into his carry-on bag, and rang for a cab. He arrived just in time to board the plane. It took off immediately, and he was on his way to Paris to try and find Hildy.

His mind raced as he thought of her in possible danger. How could I have doubted her? he berated himself. I should have known she couldn’t steal anything. If it hadn’t been for what looked like infallible proof, he would have dismissed Greg’s accusations immediately. Finding out from Greg who she really was, knowing she had kept it from him, was a shock, and made it hard not to believe his story. Not that that excuses me! he muttered.

A heavy feeling of dread weighed him down. If anything happens to her I’ll never forgive myself, he thought sadly. Why didn’t I listen to her back in Boston? Why didn’t I let her explain before leaving that note for her in Paris?

It was Greg who talked me out of it, and I trusted him! What a fool I’ve been! How could I have been so stupid? Hildy is the one I should have trusted!

It seemed forever before they finally landed at Orly Airport at four-thirty in the morning, Paris time. In spite of the fact that Jay hadn’t slept a wink during the flight, he was wide awake and alert in his desire to find Hildy. This was uppermost in his mind. He hurried off the plane and went immediately to the taxi area.

“Take me to La Grande Veue Hotel as fast as you can, please,” he told the driver. “It’s an emergency.”

“Oui, Monsieur,” he answered, and stepped on the accelerator.

They arrived at the hotel in twenty minutes instead of the usual half hour.

Peter and Zack were waiting for him in the lobby. When they saw Jay enter, they rushed to meet him.

“Thank God you’re here!” they exclaimed.

“Any word?” asked Jay anxiously.

“No. We’re completely at sea about where to look,” Zack said.

“I may know where they are. It’s just a wild guess, but we’ve got to try. I only hope if I’m right that we’re not too late.”

Jenny arrived just then on the elevator. She looked exhausted from worry. “Jay!” she greeted him. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She turned to Peter. “Any word?”

“Not yet,” Peter answered, “but Jay has an idea.”

“Let’s go up to your room, Peter,” Jay suggested. “We can talk freely there.”

As soon as they were settled in Peter’s room, Zack spoke up. “What finally convinced you that I was telling the truth about Greg?”

Jay reached into his carry-on bag and pulled out the scripts to “The Ginger Jar,” “La Fleur Rouge,” and “The Happy Heart,” and handed them to Zack. “Here are the scripts with the stickers that Greg placed over the original titles. I was so used to seeing them on all of his musicals, it never occurred to me to question them.”

Zack took the scripts and studied them for a moment. He looked grim. “I’d better hang on to these,” he said. “They might be just the thing we need when we sue Greg in court.”

“Why couldn’t I have discovered this sooner?” Jay berated himself.

“This is no time for self-incriminations,” Zack said. “Where is this place you think Greg may have taken them?”

“Greg’s parents used to own a lodge in the Alps. They left it to Greg when they died. He’s an expert pilot and he flew me there once. I don’t know why this has come to me, but it would be the perfect place to hide them. I won’t rest until we check it out. I think we should call one of the companies that rent planes.”

Peter put in a call to the first one listed. It was seven o’clock by now. After talking to the man briefly, he hung up and turned to the others. "No one by the name of Gregory Wilcox rented a plane." He looked disappointed. "Maybe they’re not there. What now?" he asked.

But Zack wasn’t fooled. "Did anyone rent a plane that day?" he asked Peter.

"Only one, he told me. A man by the name of George Wilson."

Zack looked at Jay who turned pale and gripped the arms of his chair.

"It was Greg!" they said in unison.

Jay rose to his feet. "That's the alias Greg uses when he doesn't want anyone to know who he is!" he explained to Peter and Jenny. "That's where they are all right! I'm sure of it! We can't waste any time!"

"Can anyone here fly a plane?" Peter asked.

"I flew combat in the war," Zack told him. "We'll have to rent a ski plane. I've never flown one, but it can't be too different."

"It wouldn't hurt to take my gun," Peter suggested, reaching for his briefcase. But when he opened the secret compartment in the bottom, the gun wasn't there! "Well! This is interesting!" he remarked. "My gun is missing! First the script - now the gun. And look what's here in its place!" He held up the unopened bottle of Scotch that Greg had wrapped in a newspaper dated the day he was scheduled to fly back to New York with Jay.

"Greg's favorite drink!" Jay said in a hollow voice.

"How could this have happened?" Peter asked.

"You put the case on the coffee table in the lobby when you waited to speak to the clerk," Zack reminded him. "You remember - the night Greg flew back to New York with Jay. Greg must have taken the gun the same time he took the script. There's no other explanation!"

"Greg didn't fly back with me on the eleventh!" Jay exclaimed. "That's the day he showed me what he claimed was his copy of 'La Fleur Rouge' and said Hildy stole it from him two years ago in Boston. He stayed here to have it out with her."

He thought for a minute. "Let me check on something." He picked up the phone. "Get me the Saint Germaine Hotel, please," he told the operator. He waited a moment. "Can you tell me what day Gregory Wilcox checked out of your hotel?" he asked when the clerk answered.

"One moment, s'il vous plait. I will look on the roster." A moment's silence - then - "Monsieur, he checked out a little after nine-fifteen the night of the seventeenth. He said he had to catch the next plane to New York."

"Thank you," Jay said, and hung up. "One more call," he said and dialed Parisian Airlines. "Was Gregory Wilcox a passenger on your flight to New York on the seventeenth?" Jay asked the ticket agent. "It would be the ten PM flight from Paris." He waited while she checked.

"No, Monsieur," she told him, "there's no Gregory Wilcox listed."

"How about George Wilson?"

The clerk checked the list again. "Oui, Monsieur. He made a reservation around nine in the evening for the ten o'clock flight, and boarded just as it was about to leave."

"Thank you." Jay hung up and turned to the others. "There was a George Wilson on that flight. It was Greg. He told me he stayed two nights in Boston before coming to my place. But that would mean he had to leave Paris on the fifteenth, not the seventeenth. All these years I've known him and trusted him," he said, shaking his head. "I find this whole thing so hard to believe."

Jenny, who had said nothing until now, could no longer keep quiet. "You should have found it hard to believe that Hildy would do the things Greg accused her of," she chided him.

Jay looked crushed. "I've told myself the same thing a thousand times since I uncovered these stickers."

Jenny looked penitent. "I'm sorry, Jay," she apologized. "I shouldn't have said that. I know how badly you feel." She rose from her chair. "What are we waiting for? Jay is right. Greg took them to the lodge and left them there to die. We can't wait another minute! We'd better call the police and have one of them go with us. If we find them there we'll need a witness."

"Good thinking, Jenny!" Peter picked up the phone and called the police to arrange for one of the gendarmes to meet them at the hangar. Then he handed the phone to Zack. "Here," he said, "you know what kind of plane you can fly."

Zack called the rental company and arranged for a plane to be waiting for them when they arrived at the hangar. After picking up plenty of Danish pastry and a giant size thermos of coffee at the hotel, they hailed a cab.

It was almost nine o’clock when they arrived at the hangar. The sun was just poking its head through the overcast sky.

The gendarme was waiting for them. He and Jay went inside with Zack while he filled out the necessary papers.

"Bonjour, Monsieur," Zack greeted the man behind the desk. "I called about renting the ski plane."

The man handed him a form. Zack filled it out and turned to the man. "What kind of plane did George Wilson rent?" he asked. "Was it a ski plane?"

"Oui, Monsieur," the man replied.

"Did he tell you where he was going?" Zack asked him.

The man hesitated.

The gendarme showed him his badge. "Police business," he said.

"Oh," the man answered. "He said something about wanting to visit his lodge. I believe it's somewhere in the French Alps near the Swiss border."

"Was anyone with him?" Zack asked.

"Not that I noticed," the man told him.

"How long was he gone?"

"About three hours. A very short trip."

"Just time enough to do his dirty work," Zack said to Jay.

"He flew to the lodge all right. Think you can recognize it from the air?"

"I'm sure I can," Jay replied. "I remember the reading on the compass when Greg flew me there before."

They quickly boarded the plane and took off.

CHAPTER XLI
 

Hildy and Roger had run out of food and wood. It was cold, and it looked as though they were in for another snow storm. Hildy was snoozing in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace where the last bit of wood was burning.

Roger walked over to her. “Hildy,” he said softly.

She opened her eyes and saw the worried expression on his face. She sat up. “What is it?” she asked.

“We’ve got to get out of here and look for a road or a house. There must be some nearby.” He looked at his watch. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon and it’s beginning to snow again. We have to find a phone before it gets too heavy."

Hildy was wide awake by now. She quickly donned her thin, bright red jacket, ready to do as Roger suggested. She had mixed feelings. As much as she wanted to get out of this lodge and find refuge close by, at the same time she was apprehensive about what might be out there. Greg had said they were completely isolated. But she knew with no more food or wood there was no other choice.

Roger tried to reassure her. "This is the only thing we can do."

Hildy nodded and pulled her jacket around her as tightly as she could. Roger's sweater wasn't any warmer. He went into one of the other rooms and returned with two heavy blankets. "Here," he said, handing one to her. "Wrap this around you. It should help for a while."

The snow was coming down pretty hard as they left the lodge in search of help. It wasn't easy to walk without boots, but they kept trudging along looking for a road. They were exhausted and soaked to the skin. Hildy thought at one point that they should turn back, but by this time they had lost all sense of direction. They were tired and hungry, and the penetrating cold was making them sleepy.

Hildy sat down in the snow to rest. She could barely keep her eyes open.

"Hildy! Don't go to sleep!" Roger said, shaking her. "You'll freeze! We have to keep going!"

"I can't, Roger. I'm too cold and tired. And I'm so hungry. I think we're going to die, anyway," she sobbed. "I just have to rest."

He shook her again, but she was determined. "Just for a minute," she begged.

Reluctantly he agreed, and sat down beside her. "Okay, but for just a few minutes."

Drowsiness overtook them so quickly they weren't even aware of it till it was too late. They were sound asleep in the snow. It was fast turning into a blizzard raging around them, and the strong wind tore their blankets away. The lodge was no more than half a mile away, but their visibility was obscured by the snow, and they had been going around in circles.

* * *

Zack had taken off from Paris half an hour before Hildy and Roger left the lodge.

The flight over the Alps was breathtakingly beautiful. The snow covered mountains looked like huge marshmallows, complemented by the white, powder puff clouds. It seemed almost as though they could step out and sink into the soft pillows, like a feather bed covered with a blanket of blue sky.

But the passengers were in no mood to enjoy the scenery. All they could think of was Hildy and Roger. Were they all right? Had Greg murdered them, or had he just left them there to die? They would soon know.

Zack flew the plane as low as he dared so they could spot the lodge more easily. They had been flying for an hour and a half when Jay spotted smoke coming from a chimney. He checked the compass. "Bingo!" he exclaimed. True to his word, he knew exactly where the lodge was.