This Way for a Shroud

"She's at the Ocean Hotel, Barwood. She's on the top floor, facing the sea. There are twenty guards; five of them in the grounds, five guarding the top floor, five in the three rooms below her windows, and five off duty. No one can enter the hotel without a security check. No one is allowed near the top floor. The elevators only travel to the ninth floor. Three police women remain with her day and night and never let her out of their sight. When she takes a bath the door is left open and one of the police women sits just outside. She isn't allowed to leave her room. There is no means of climbing up to her window as the windows below are guarded. The roof is perpendicular, and the only skylight to it is guarded day and night. What makes you think I don't know the set-up?"

Maurer felt a cold chill run down his back. He stared at Ferrari as if he had been suddenly transformed into a snake.

"You're lying! How the hell do you know all this? I've had the place watched for days and I haven't even found her room!"

Ferrari smiled.

"But then you are an amateur, and I am a professional."

Maurer swallowed this insult as he felt it was justified.

"But how do you know?"

"I've been up to the tenth floor. I've listened end I've watched. I've even seen her."

Maurer gaped at him.

"You've been up there! How did you get there?"

"That's my secret," Ferrari returned.

There was a long pause, then Maurer said, "Well, okay, then tell me how she's to the accidentally."

Ferrari crossed one short leg over the other. He yawned, stretched, then folded his hands in his lap.

"It's an interesting problem, not impossible, but difficult. I believe I am the only man in the world who can do it."

"You really can do it?"

"I stake my reputation on it. If I fail, you don't pay me a dime. That's fair enough, isn't it? But you'll pay me. I don't intend to fail."

"But how will it be done?"

"That you must leave to me. I never discuss my plans. There are two things I need. I haven't the time to bother with them myself. Maybe you can take care of them for me?"

"What things?"

"I'll need an aircraft and a stunt flyer."

Maurer's eyes bulged.

"A stunt flyer? You're not suggesting he should land on the roof, are you?"

Ferrari smiled.

"Nothing so obvious. I merely want him to divert attention. The trick is really very simple. You have seen a good conjuror? When he does a trick he makes sure the audience is looking at something else and not at what he is doing. The stunt flyer will do just that and give me my chance to strike."

"I'll get you an aircraft and a stunt flyer. When do you want them?" Maurer asked.

"Today is Wednesday. Shall we say Friday? I must talk to him. There are certain things I have to tell him."

"When does she get hit?" Maurer demanded.

"Saturday night. It is a good night. The hotel laundry is delivered on Saturday night." Ferrari slid out of his chair. "Another useful piece of information I picked up."

"The laundry? What's that to do with this business?" Maurer asked blankly.

"It has everything to do with it," Ferrari returned and walked over to the door. "I'll be here Saturday morning. Have the flyer for me to talk to."

He went out and shut the door.

Maurer drew in a long deep breath.

"What do you think, Abe?"

"He'll do it," Gollowitz said.

Maurer nodded.

"I guess that's right. Smart little snake, isn't he?" He got up. "I've got things to do, Abe. Ask Louis to come here, will you?"

Gollowitz gave him a hard, searching look, but gathered nothing from Maurer's deadpan expression. He went out.

Maurer began to pace up and down.

After a few minutes Seigel came in.

"You wanted me, boss?"

"Yeah," Maurer said. "Sit down, Louis."

Seigel sat down. He looked at Maurer nervously.

"I've got a job for you, Louis," Maurer said softly. "Ferrari's going out to the Ocean Hotel, Barwood, on Saturday night. You're going out there too. On his way back, you're going to run into him. You're going to take care of him for me."

Seigel stared at Maurer.

"Ferrari?"

"That's right."

"You want me to hit him?"

"That's what I said."

"For God's sake, Mr. Maurer . . .!"

"That's what I said," Maurer repeated. "It's either he or you Louis. Please yourself."

III

The Ocean Hotel was always crowded at the week-ends, and on this Saturday afternoon the bathing-pool and the vast stretch of lawn was packed solid with people who had come down from San Francisco and up from Los Angeles for a week-end of swimming and lounging in the sun.

Conrad sat in a tub chair under a shady tree and watched the crowd as it played, lounged and gossiped around the swimming-pool. He kept an eye on the long drive that led to the hotel, watching for Forest's car.

Around four-thirty, he spotted the car coming up the drive. He stood up and waved. The car slowed down and stopped. Forest got out, said something to his chauffeur, then came across the lawn towards Conrad. The car went on towards the hotel.

Forest wended his way through the sun-bathers until he reached Conrad's isolated shade under the tree.