Whiff Of Money

Gilly started to her feet. Blood rushed to her face and then drained away. Her eyes sparkled with anger.

'You're not getting them!' she cried. 'Pierre! Let's get out of here! Come on... don't sit there like a dummy! Let's go!'

Rosnold was studying von Goltz who toyed with his brandy glass, relaxed and smiling. His smile sent a chill up Rosnold's spine. He looked at Gilly.

'Sit down and shut up!' he said sharply. 'Can't you see, you fool, we're caught!'

'Caught? He can't stop us... I'm going if you're not!' Gilly rushed across the room, jerked open the door and dashed into the vast hall. She ran to the high entrance doors which she found locked. She tugged at the bolts while six, heavily-built men in the count's livery watched her with mask-like faces. The bolts were immovable and with a cry of rage, she spun around, rushed back into the lounge, darted past the three men who watched her and dashed out onto the terrace.

Below, on the driveway, was the scarlet T.R.4. With a gasp of relief, she started across the terrace to run down the three long flights of marble steps. Then she stopped short. Two huge black alsatian dogs stood at the bottom of the steps and snarled at her. Their white fangs sent a cold shudder of fear through her. She stared down at the dogs, hypnotised with horror. Crouching low and still snarling, the dogs began to climb slowly up the steps towards her. Gilly's nerve broke.

Whirling around, she ran back into the lounge.

'Those dogs . . .' she began breathlessly then stopped as von Goltz laughed.

'Why don't you sit down?' he asked. 'You can't get away. Yes ... those dogs ... they will tear you to pieces if you are stupid enough to challenge them. Where are the films?'

Gilly faced him, white and scared, but her eyes still flashed with rage.

'You're not getting them!' She turned to Rosnold. 'Do something! Tell him... don't just sit there! Do something!'

'I warned you.' Rosnold was pale and uneasy. 'I'm not going though with this. I've had enough of it.'

Girland listened to all this. For a moment he was forgotten. The action now was between Gilly and Rosnold with von Goltz as an interested spectator.

'He's not having them!' Gilly cried, beating her fists together. 'He can't force us to give them to him! He can't!'

'But you are mistaken,' von Goltz said, his voice sounded bored. 'When I want something, I always get it. Do you want me to give you a demonstration of my persuasive powers?'

'Go to hell!' Gilly shouted at him, her eyes flashing. 'You're not having those films! If you don't let us leave I'll - I'll call the police.'

Von Goltz regarded her as he would regard a difficult child.

'You are still very young and still very stupid. How do you call the police?'

Gilly turned desperately to Girland.

'Aren't you going to do something?' she demanded, going to him and standing over him. 'Do you call yourself a man . . .just sitting there? Get me out of here!'

'The Count holds the four aces,' Girland said quietly. 'I don't bet against such odds. Give him the films.'

She turned away from him in disgust.

'You're not having them!' she said, spinning around to confront von Goltz. 'Understand? You're not having them!'

Von Goltz waved her away. He looked now at Rosnold and his eyes were glittering with suppressed fury.

'You realise, of course, I have ways to persuade you both?' he said. 'Why let us have any unpleasantness? Where are the films?'

Rosnold licked his dry lips.

'If you tell him, I'll kill you!' Gilly screamed furiously. 'He can't force us ...'

Von Goltz came out of his chair very quickly. He hit Gilly across her face with the back of his hand with cruel violence.

She catapulted across the room, smashed into a small occasional table and sprawled on the floor, flat on her back.

Girland looked down at his hands. This wasn't the time to go into action. He knew for certain that if he made a move the big room would be filled with von Goltz's servants.

Rosnold half started to his feet, staring at Gilly as she lay, sobbing, her hands holding her aching face.

'I apologise,' von Goltz said quietly. 'I didn't want any unpleasantness, but this stupid girl doesn't seem to realise the situation.' He paused then looked at Rosnold. 'Where are the films?'

'In my bank at Paris,' Rosnold said.

'You stinkingf coward!' Gilly cried, scrambling to her feet. 'How could you tell him!' She started across the room towards Rosnold, but Girland was out of his chair and intercepted her. He ducked her flying fist and pulled her against him.

'Play it cool,' he said softly. 'Don't get so excited. You can't win all the time.'

She stared for a long moment at him, then she threw off his hands and walked unsteadily to a chair away from him and sat down.

Girland returned to his chair and sat on the arm. He took out his pack of cigarettes, shook out a cigarette and lit it.