This Way for a Shroud

"You did? How did she react?" Conrad asked, sitting forward.

"She seems a little stunned that you should want to marry her. She's got a lot of complexes, and that's not to be wondered at. You'll have to be patient, Paul. It may take a long time. I told her if she will sign the statement, we'll finance a trip to Europe for her and you and Miss Fielding for a couple of months immediately after the trial. She seemed to like the idea."

"Did she? That's pretty good of you, sir. How about the financial angle? The Treasury won't finance her, will it?"

"Not a hope," Forest said, and laughed. "That's up to you, Paul. I'll give you leave for a couple of months, but you'll have to stand the racket."

"I'll stand it. Did she say where she would like to go?"

"I made a suggestion," Forest returned, rubbing the side of his nose and looking artful. "I told her she should see Venice. If you can't cook up a little romance in a gondola, then you're not the man I think you are. Ever been to Venice? I took my wife there on our honeymoon. No place like it in the world."

"I'll take your word for it," Conrad said, smiling. "Well, that's something to think about for the future, but right now we've got to think of getting her safely over the trial. What do you think of my precautions?"

"Excellent," Forest returned. "I'm as satisfied as you are they can't get at her here now I've seen for myself. This is a good spot, Paul. What are your plans for taking her to the courthouse?" He glanced up sharply. "That plane sounds damned low."

The sudden whoosh of air and the roar of an aircraft engine had startled them both.

"There's a night trip from Pacific City to Los Angeles that passes about this time," Conrad said, glancing at his watch. It was just ten o'clock. "I think the best thing we can do is to take her from here in an armoured car with an escort of cycle cops. We'll keep her in the court-house. There're some rooms in the basement she can have. They're not particularly pleasant, but it'll only be for a week or so. There're no windows and only one entrance."

"Yes," Forest said, "but we've got to catch Maurer first."

"Still no news?"

"Bardin was on the phone about ten minutes ago. He says there's a rumour going around that Maurer's back. They're checking now."

Conrad sat up.

"Back? Who started the rumour?"

"There's that plane again," Forest said, as the aircraft, flying very low, roared past the window. He got up and went to the window. "Goddamn it! Look at this, Paul."

Conrad joined him at the window.

Flying out to sea was a small, single-winged aircraft, lit up by red neon lights. It looked like some strange bird of paradise as it swept around in a tight circle and came back towards the hotel.

"Some advertising stunt," Conrad said, watching the plane without interest. His mind was busy thinking about Frances. The idea of taking her to Venice made his heart beat faster. The trip would give him a chance to try and straighten out her mind.

"Looks pretty good," Forest said, leaning out of the window to see more of the plane as it came around the hotel and swept downwards towards the sea. "What's he advertising, I wonder? Hey! Look at that, Paul."

A little irritated by Forest's childish interest, Conrad moved closer to the open window.

The plane was now flying just below the cliffs and practically level with the hotel gardens. A figure, lit up by red and blue fairy lights, was standing on one of the wings. It waved as the plane roared past the hotel.

"The reckless fool," Conrad grunted. The things people will do for money."

"When I was a kid," Forest said, "I wanted to be a wing-walker. That guy's certainly got a nerve. Look at him!"

The plane was returning now, still flying low. The wing-walker was standing on his hands, balanced precariously on the edge of the wing.

Faintly above the roar of the engine. Conrad could hear the excited cries of the people in the garden as they waved to the plane.

"Here he comes," Forest said, leaning farther out of the window. "He's hanging on with one hand . . ."

Conrad felt the rug they were standing on shift suddenly as Forest leaned still farther out of the window. He saw Forest lurch forward and grab frantically for the window sill. Conrad snatched at Forest's coat, braced himself as he felt Forest over-balance. For one horrible moment he thought the coat was going to be wrenched out of his grip, then Forest managed to get a hold on the windowframe and heave himself back into the room.

"For God's sake. . ." Conrad gasped.

Forest was white-faced and shaken.

"Thanks, Paul," he said huskily. "Hell! I nearly went out. That's a long way down. Phew! I guess the rug slipped. . . ."

Conrad stood rooted, his face white. Above the returning roar of the aircraft both men heard a wild, terrified scream that chilled their blood.

"What's that?" Forest exclaimed.

Conrad flung himself across the room, wrenched open the door and ran blindly down the corridor to Frances's room.