Marco scraped the buckle on his boot back
across the glass top table. The high squeal made Virginia's nerves
ache but she stood rooted to the carpet, her eyes never leaving
Marco's face.
"Then Byron, you know," Marco went on, "had a
ticket in his pocket for Singapore when I went to talk to him. Said
he needed a vacation. Probably did too, after the robbery and his
brother being shot and killed. Poor guy. I told him he better come
and talk to Wolfe about it. Set up the meeting for last night at
the house. You had left, of course. Maybe you heard about
it?"
Virginia said nothing. Marco waited, analyzing
the fear behind her eyes, the slight curl of her lip that she
herself was completely unaware. Marco smiled.
"Poor Byron," Marco shook his head in mock
sympathy. "Morgan felt sorry for the guy. Under so much stress.
Morgan gave him his vacation. Don't expect Byron back from
Singapore for a while. He needed a lot of rest."
"What does this have to do with me?" Virginia
said, trying to swallow the phlegm that persisted at the back of
her throat and broke her voice. "I had nothing to do with Roth
Galleries. So Byron's on vacation. So what?"
"Morgan senses that something is wrong closer
to home. Clarissa disappearing last night, you all uptight. Morgan
just wanted to know if you were alright. Maybe the stress of your
job was getting to you.
"I'm fine, Marco," Virginia said. "I just
didn't sleep last night. I'm exhausted. I worked all morning in the
office. I need to get some sleep. So why don't you leave and let me
do that?"
"Morgan thought you might have had another job
offer somewhere. Maybe you talked it over with Clarissa yesterday.
Maybe she called you last night. Maybe she was here."
"There is no other offer, Marco. Tell that to
Morgan. I don't discuss my job or my life with his women. Tell him
that, too."
"If you're lying, you're dead."
Marco rose from the sofa and started for the
front door. Virginia allowed herself a little feeling of relief,
but there would be no release until Marco was out of the building.
Suddenly, Marco turned abruptly and stalked toward the
bedroom.
"Now what?" Virginia tried to keep the panic
from her voice.
"Forgot to check in here," he called over his
shoulder. "Told Mister Wolfe I'd check out your place. I got to do
my job. Then I'm outta here. 'Course, maybe you got Clarissa
stashed in here. Then I'll be staying awhile."
Virginia followed him to the bedroom door. She
tried to keep her eyes off the bed where she had carefully
concealed Clarissa's jewelry. Marco was going over the bathroom,
down on his hands and knees, searching every inch of the floor, the
shower, toilet, and vanity table. Virginia held her breath. She had
cleaned it thoroughly, removed every trace that Clarissa had
showered in there.
"What day does your cleaning people come?"
Marco asked.
"I don't have a cleaning crew. I do it myself.
Morgan had never allowed me to have servants unless he approves
them. I couldn't stand any he sent so I don't have any."
"You do a good job," Marco said as he snapped
off the bathroom light and began pulling out the bureau drawers in
the bedroom. Virginia tensed and her hands balled into fists at her
side. Marco pushed aside everything in the drawers and ran his hand
expertly under the bottom of each one. He moved to the closet,
checked each garment, purses, shoes, boxes, pockets. Satisfied, he
searched under the bed, pulled the bedding off and ran his hand
around for any new tears or seams. He pulled up the box spring and
Virginia's stomach turned over. Marco ran a practiced eye over the
coils and let the mattress back down.
He pulled out the drawers on both night stands
and checked the contents of each, ran his hands up into both lamp
shades, and checked the floor behind each nightstand. Nothing. He
seemed satisfied that there was nothing to be found. Virginia let
out her breath slowly and tried to smile.
"Did you think I'd hide her in a
drawer?"
"I just do what I'm told," said Marco as he
picked up the waste paper basket and ruffled through the used
tissue. He was setting it back on the floor when it caught his eye.
He reached down and picked up a broken piece of a crystal angel's
wing. Virginia unconsciously took a step backward. Marco brought
the wing piece under the lamp and studied it.
"Where's the rest, Virginia?" Marco's tone was
low and menacing.
"It's from a bird statue I broke a while ago,"
she stammered. "I probably threw it away."
"Mister Wolfe is missing a crystal angel from
his desk drawer," said Marco evenly. "You were in the office this
morning. Where's the rest of it?”
"I took it to a jeweler this afternoon," she
lied in a nervous staccato. "I broke the angel this morning while I
was working in the den. I didn't want Morgan angry with me. I
thought the jeweler could fix it while Morgan was away."
"Without this piece?"
"I couldn't find that piece," Virginia
blurted. "I asked him if he could make another wing tip. I'm so
glad you found that, Marco. I'll take it to him first thing on
Monday. He'll be able to fix it faster with that."
"What's the jeweler's name?"
"A Jewish guy, on Canon Drive in Beverly
Hills. Irv, Irving Sanderson. Beverly Jewelers."
Marco slowly straightened and moved toward
Virginia. He held the crystal wing in his open palm. Virginia
backed away as if he held a scorpion. Marco inched the wing to his
fingertips with his thumbnail. Then with a quick flick of his wrist
he raked Virginia's cheek with the sharp edge of the crystal. She
winced with the pain but her eyes never left Marco's
face.
"You don't lie well, Ginny," he said coldly.
"Irv Sanderson would not take anything from you without Morgan's
permission. As soon as you showed up, he would have called Morgan.
Irv knows Morgan Wolfe real well. Where is the angel,
Ginny?"
It was too late for self-recrimination, too
late now that the one flaw had boiled to the surface. She had
thought the crystal angel pretty. Had kept it only because it
pleased her. Virginia had assumed that it had been Clarissa's. Even
so, she never should have wrapped it up with the
diamonds.
Her first impulse was to cut and run but she
knew she would not get as far as the front door. To hold out on
Marco would invite a slow and painful death. She had to give him
the angel and the jewelry. Marco's loyalty to Morgan would prevent
cutting a deal with him. Wolfe could match any amount that
Clarissa's diamonds would bring. Virginia had one option left. Give
Marco what he wanted and tell him that Clarissa was safe in the
hands of a friend and that only Virginia could get her released to
Wolfe.
The switchblade clicked open in Marco's hand
and Virginia drew back to the bedroom wall, stiff with
terror.
"Time's up," he grinned and held the knife
point to her throat and the jagged edge of the crystal wing to the
corner of her eye.
"Bed post," she stammered.
He roughly shoved her over to the bed. She
lifted off the newel on the post at the foot of the bed, then drew
out a black velvet wrapped packet on a string from the hollow
bedpost. Marco grabbed it from her hand and pushed her down on the
bed. He sliced open the velvet with the blade. The diamond
necklace, two diamond earrings, and a diamond ring and watch
glittered in his hand. The crystal angel with the broken wing
dropped to the carpeted floor. Virginia reached for it and Marco
viciously kicked her hand. She recoiled in pain.
"Well, well, Virginia," he mused as he
examined the jewelry. "Going into business for yourself? That's
what got the Roth brothers in the lime pit."
"Alright," Virginia blurted angrily. "Clarissa
was here last night. She didn't stay. She asked if she could take a
shower and get a cup of coffee. She was afraid to go out with all
the diamonds on. Asked me if I would keep them for her until she
could talk to Morgan. I guess they had some kind of lovers quarrel
and she was afraid to go home."
"Then where did she go?" Marco asked as he
thrust the jewels into his black leather jacket.
"I told her she should go home and make up
with Morgan," Virginia replied, her voice cracked and pinched. "I
assumed she went home."
"Where is she, Ginny?" Marco hissed through
his teeth as he grabbed Virginia by the throat and forced her to
lay back on the bare mattress. "Where is she?"
"I don't know," Virginia replied.
Marco squeezed her throat painfully and she
clawed futilely at his hand. In a sudden fit of anger, Marco took
both of her wrists and pinned them under his knees. He knelt over
her and forced her head aside, exposing her right cheek. Then he
carved a thin heart into her cheek with the blade.
"Please don't," Virginia cried.
"Ginny loves Morgan," he smiled as he
continued to carve Virginia's initials in the top of the heart and
Morgan Wolfe's initials in the bottom of the heart. "Morgan doesn't
love Ginny. Morgan doesn't love anybody. Any fool can see
that."
"Please, Marco, stop," Virginia
pleaded.
"Where is she?"
"With friends," Virginia cried.
"Where?" Marco demanded.
"They'll take her to the police," Virginia
told him. "You can't get to her, Marco. Not without me. An army
couldn't get to her. You kill me, Morgan Wolfe is going to be laid
wide open. He'll blame you, Marco. You'll go down right with him.
You blew it, Marco. You didn't secure the house. Clarissa is your
problem. Look at your damn face. Morgan had that done, didn't he?
You blew it! You need Clarissa and I can give her to
you."
"I don't buy your bullshit," Marco snapped,
then he smiled evilly. "What do blind secretaries make these days,
Ginny?" He placed the tip of the knife blade at her right
eye.
"I'll take you," she cried. They'll let me in
with no questions. "I'll take you to her."
"Where?"
"Downtown. She's with some people downtown. If
anybody but me asks for her they'll call the police. I swear to
you, Marco, the place is a fortress. That's why I took her there.
I'm telling you the truth."
She dared a look up into Marco's battered
face. She could read the indecision there. "A trade, Marco. My life
for hers. Morgan gets what he wants, I stay alive, and you’re a
hero to your boss. You cover your ass. If you kill me you're no
closer to Clarissa Hayden then you were last night."
"Morgan ain't gonna let you live," Marco
sneered.
"I'll deal with Morgan," Virginia argued. "You
can hand Clarissa to him. Do it, Marco. He needs her dead. You
failed Morgan last night. You let her get away. Don't blow it
again. I'm offering her to you but I stay alive.
Please?"
"You make one wrong move, Ginny," Marco warned
and pressed the blade into her throat.
"You have my word," she whispered.
"Too bad," he grinned. "I was just getting
started.
Marco yanked her to her feet just as the
telephone on the nightstand rang. She looked from the phone to
Marco. With a deadly glance he warned her to stay back. For
emphasis he waved the knife in her face.
On the fourth ring the answering machine
clicked on. Then there was Clarissa's voice, and Marco
grinned.
"Virginia, this is Clarissa," came her thin
desperate voice. "I'm still at the Hempstead Hotel. Where are you?
If you're home, can you pick up? I need to talk to you. Please. I
have to have my purse and the money. You promised you'd come
tonight. I need to know if you wired by brother yet. Are you there,
Gin?"
Virginia went cold and dread smothered her.
For the first time tears ringed her eyelids and she silently cursed
Clarissa Hayden with every obscenity she knew.
"A fortress?" Marco turned to her and the
venom in his eyes terrified her. "That cheap flop house? You bitch.
You foolish bitch."
The knife blade slid between Virginia's ribs
three times. The white hot pain constricted her throat and her
screams were nothing but choking sobs.
"Marco," she pleaded as she sunk to her knees.
"You said..."
"Deal's off, Ginny. So sue me."
He reached down and she grabbed his hand. He
shook it off and picked up the crystal angel. He put it in his
pocket and walked from the bedroom. She heard his footsteps
retreat, heard the front door open and close softly, then the
aching silence. Virginia tried to move but the pain was gripping
and intense. She held her stomach with one hand and managed to
crawl toward the night stand with the other. With all of her effort
she pulled herself to her knees and grabbed the phone
receiver.
It was yanked from her hand so forcefully that
it burned her palm. She witnessed in horror Marco's hands grab the
phone and the answering machine and rip them off the nightstand.
She flinched as they crashed against the bedroom wall.
"Please," she tried to say but her tongue felt
thick and every breath was a monumental effort.