Just Another Sucker

‘That’s right, only I happen to have realised that from the start. I took precautions. I planted a tape recorder in the cabin. I have the whole kidnap plot on tape. Don’t kid yourself you can’t be pulled into this mess, because you can.’

She became very still. Her glittering eyes stared at me.

‘A tape recorder?’

‘That’s right. Everything we planned is on tape. You have the motive. They may send me to the gas chamber, but at least you’ll get twenty years.’

That really jolted her. For a moment her poker face mask slipped. Her hands turned into fists, the colour drained out of her face. She looked suddenly older and very vicious.

‘You’re lying!’

‘Think so? If I get caught you’ll get caught too. You just didn’t play it smart enough. Now you’d better start praying I don’t get caught.’

She recovered her self control. The expressionless mask slipped into place.

‘So you’re not quite the fool I imagined you to be, Mr. Barber. Well, we’ll see how it works out.’

‘Yeah: we’ll see.’

The glass door swung open and I looked around. A tall, heavily built man, wearing a smart chauffeur’s uniform, stood in the doorway. This would be the ex-cop, O’Reilly. I was aware he was looking curiously at me. I was surprised to see he was about my age. His sand coloured hair was close cropped. His heavy, flashy face was coarsely handsome, and his steady grey eyes had that quizzing penetrating stare that most cops have.

‘The car’s ready, Madam,’ he said.

‘I won’t be going out this morning,’ Rhea said and she got up ‘Mr. Malroux isn’t at all well.’

She started across the patio.

‘Mrs. Malroux…’ I said.

She paused and looked at me.

‘When Miss Malroux’s body was found, she was wearing a blue and white cotton dress. It was quite a cheap thing. Lieutenant Renick is wondering where it came from. You will remember she wore a red dress when she left here. Lieutenant Renick wants to know if you know anything about the dress.’

I thought I would have jolted her with this, but her expression didn’t change.

‘I know all about the dress,’ she said. ‘I bought it for her. It is a beach dress. She kept it in her car.

When she went to the beach, she changed into it. Perhaps you will tell the Lieutenant that.’

She turned and walked to the glass door which O’Reilly held open for her.

I felt a sudden sinking feeling of uneasiness. If she could be so calm and quick witted on a question like that, could she talk herself out of the tape recording? She could admit the kidnap plot, but that still didn’t implicate her in Odette’s murder.

‘You’re Barber, aren’t you?’ O’Reilly said, and his voice jerked me alert ‘The Lieutenant told me about you. Have they found her?’

Watch it, I thought. This guy is an ex-cop. He has been trained to spot anything suspicious, and what he spots will go straight back to Renick.

‘They found her. Renick wants you to come down and identify her.’

O’Reilly grimaced.

‘Maybe the old man should do it.’

‘She’s been dead two days and shut in the trunk of a car. Renick thinks Malroux shouldn’t see her.’

‘Well, okay.’ His grey eyes shifted over my face. ‘Have they found the ransom yet?’

‘No.’

‘I told the Lieutenant: find the ransom and you’ll find the killer: it’s that simple.’

‘They’re waiting. Let’s go.’

‘I’d better tell the old man where I’m going,’ he said. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ He started across the patio, then abruptly paused to look at me. ‘They’ve got no clue to the guy who strangled her? That photograph in the paper last night didn’t pay off?’

That jolted me. I had forgotten the photograph.

‘No.’

‘The Lieutenant is smart. He’ll bust this case. I’ve worked with him in the past. He knows his business.’

I watched him go, then I took out my cigarettes. I was about to light one when I had a sudden cold, spooky feeling.

They’ve got no clue to the guy who strangled her?

I had said nothing about how Odette had been murdered neither to Rhea nor to O’Reilly. Her body had only just been discovered. Not even the newspaper men were in on it yet – then how did O’Reilly know she had been strangled?

The cigarette slipped out of my fingers.

Here was my man! The lover! The ex-cop who had Renick’s confidence, who had the opportunity of knowing all what was going oh and of living in this house within a few yards of Rhea’s bedroom.

O’Reilly!

How else could he know Odette had been strangled unless he had strangled her himself?

II

Five or six minutes later, O’Reilly came through the swing doors and joined me on the patio.

During those minutes I had got over the shock of my discovery. I had had time to consider more fully the likelihood that he was Odette’s killer. He seemed fitted for the job. I told myself I would have to be careful not to give him any idea that I had spotted his slip and was suspicious of him. By now, Rhea would have warned him that I had the tapes. This should jolt him as much as it had jolted her, but it didn’t incriminate him. Somehow I had to pin Odette’s murder on him before the police pinned it on me.