I lifted my shoulders.
'How do you know the man in the fawn suit is Dedrick?' he demanded.
'I recognized his voice. He spoke to me over the phone, if you remember, when he staged the faked kidnapping. He has a voice you don't forget.'
'Tell that to the jury and see where you get,' Brandon sneered. 'All you've got is that Barratt ran a smuggling ring. I'll give you that, but nothing else. The rest of the stuff is a pipe-dream.'
I looked across at Francon, who shook his head.
'Well, all right, then I guess we can all go to bed,' I said to Brandon. 'I didn't ask to come here, and if you don't want to believe the story, it's okay with me.'
'We'll go over it again,' Brandon said, beginning to enjoy himself, 'and we'll have it down in writing.' He nodded to Mifflin, who opened the door and bawled for Sergeant MacGraw.
After a while MacGraw came in, a placid expression on his white, flabby face. He sat down at a table, a pad of paper in front of him and waited.
I went through the story again, covering everything that had happened to date. It took some time. Then Brandon tried to shake me, tried to shale Mary Jerome, and even Paula. He got nowhere.
'There's not a scrap of evidence in any of this,' he said at last. 'Bring that yarn into court and see what the D.A. does to it.' He turned to Francon. 'So far as I'm concerned, Perelli Snatched Dedrick. Nothing this parlour detective has found out makes any difference to me. Any witness he claims to have is either dead or unreliable. If you think Perelli's alibi with this Lola woman will stand up in court, you're crazy. Now, get out, the lot of you! You've wasted enough of my time already. Bring Dedrick here, and I might believe you, and that's my final word!'
Outside in the passage the four of us looked at each other.
'That's the way it is,' Francon said. 'He's right, Vic. It makes a nice story, but it gets us exactly nowhere in court. We've got to find Dedrick.'
Muffin joined us at the end of the passage.
'Well, come on,' he growled. 'Haven't you people got any beds?'
'Are you looking for Dedrick?' I asked.
'We're looking for this guy in the fawn suit,' Muffin carefully. We've been looking for him since Lehmann's killing. You don't have to pay any attention to Brandon. He knows Grace Lehmann was murdered. He was just sounding off.'
'If you're looking for him, why haven't you found him?'
Muffin's red face turned purple.
'If he's to be found, we'll find him. Don't start making cute remarks. If he was still in town, we would have had him by now.'
'Not if he's holed up. You haven't searched every house in town,' I said. 'And that's the only way you will find him.'
Francon was getting bored with this.
'Well, I guess I'm going to bed. I have a busy day in front of me,' he said. 'You have a week before they bring Perelli to trial. Two more days before I quit I'm not going into court with nothing in my hands, Vic. I warned you; and I mean it'
He went off before I could argue with him.
Depressed and tired, Paula, Mary and I went down the steps to the street.
'Shall I take Mrs. Dedrick to my apartment?' Paula asked.
'If you will. We'll meet tomorrow at the office. Maybe I'll have an idea by then.'
I got them a taxi and saw them off, then, as I was walking over to the Buick, Muffin joined me.
'Sorry about this, Vic,' he said. 'There's nothing I can do about it.'
'I know.' I leaned against the car and groped for a cigarette. 'Do you think Dedrick has managed to leave town?'
Muffin shrugged.
'I don't know. We have men watching the roads, the airport and the station. He was lucky if be did. He's either got through the cordon or he's found a hide-out where no one would think of looking for him. Something like that.'
'I nodded.'
'We've checked every likely spot,' Mifflin went on. 'If he has found a hide-out, it's a good one.'
I had a sudden idea.
'Yeah,' I said. 'It's my bet he's still in town. Stick around, Tim. I believe I've got something. Don't go to bed yet. Maybe I'll give you a call. Will you be at home?'
'That's where I'm going now,' Muffin said. What's the Idea? Where do you think he is?'
I climbed into the Buick and started the engine.
'Where you wouldn't dare look for him,' I said out of the window. 'Ocean End, brother.'
I engaged gear and drove away fast as he yelled after me.
II
I turned off the car headlights as I swung the nose of the Buick into the Private road leading to Ocean End.
The most unlikely place, and yet the most obvious for Dedrick to hide out would be Ocean End. If Marshland had left the estate, and Serena was there alone, Dedrick might not have much trouble to persuade her to give him sanctuary, depending on the story be told her.
It was no more than an idea, but although I was aching for my bed, I knew I couldn't rest until I had put it to a test.
Half-way up the drive, I stopped the car and got out. I reluctantly decided it would be safer to walk the rest of the way.
The main gates were closed. I had heard stories about the various burglar alarms fitted throughout the estate, so I kept away from them. I walked beside the high wall until I came upon a creeper that looked strong enough to take my weight. With a little effort, I reached the top of the wall and surveyed the moonlit garden spread out before me.
I dropped quietly from the wall, landing in the soft soil of a rose bed.
In the distance I could see the house, and I moved cautiously towards it, keeping in the shadows, using every scrap of cover I could find until I reached the terrace.
The ground floor was in darkness, but two of the upper windows showed lights. The time was twenty minutes past two: late enough for anyone to be up.
My rubber-soled shoes made no sound as I mounted the steps that led to the terrace. Above me the light from one of the windows fell directly on the terrace, making a sharp, bright pattern on the white stone. The climb up to the window wasn't difficult. The window led out on to a balcony, and by standing on the terrace balustrade I swung myself up on to the upper balcony. I hung on with both hands, drew myself up and peered into the uncurtained window.
I could scarcely believe my luck. The man in the fawn suit lay flat on his back on the bed. He had a glass of whisky in one hand and a magazine in the other. A cigarette burned evenly from his thin lips, and he read with frowning concentration.
I had played a hunch, and it had come off. Yet, come to think of it, it wasn't so much luck as good reasoning. Where else would he have been so safe?
I wasn't going to tackle him on my own. I wanted witnesses— Regretfully, I climbed down from the balcony and reached the terrace.
I tried to remember where the nearest phone-box was: too far away, anyway. Now I knew be was there I wasn't going to lose sight of him. If he had been in bed and asleep, I might have risked leaving the estate in search of a telephone, but not when he might suddenly take it into his head to bolt.
I remembered there was a telephone in the lounge.
I walked silently along the terrace to the casement windows that led into the lounge. In the bright light of the moon, I examined the doors for any sign of wiring or alarms, but failed to find any. But before attempting to break in, I decided to walk around the house in the hope of finding a window left open.
It was my lucky night. At the back of the house I found an unlatched window. I eased it open, put my head into darkness and listened. I heard nothing. I groped in my hip pocket and pulled out Paula's flashlight. The battery was on the blink, but the light was strong enough for me to see I was looking into the passage, leading to the ball.
Very carefully I hoisted myself up, climbed through the window, closed it and soft-footed down the passage to the hall.
The house was very still and silent. I stood listening for a few moments before going into the lounge. I shut the door.
The telephone stood on a table by the settee. I sat down lifted the receiver off its cradle and dialled Muffin's borne number.
I sat listening to the
burr-burr-burr
on the line, listening also for any sound upstairs.
There came a click on the line and Muffin's voice growled 'Hello.'
'I've found him,' I said, my mouth close to the mouthpiece 'He's at Ocean End. How soon can you get over here?'
'You're sure?' Mifflin's voice shot up with excitement.
'Yeah; I'm sure. I've seen
him.
Now listen, Tim. Collect Paula and Mrs. Dedrick. I want them as witnesses. Park your car before you reach the house. You'll have to get over the wall. Don't touch the gates. Come up to the terrace, and don't show yourselves until I call you. Tell Paula to get everything he says. Okay?'
'You're really sure he's there?' Muffin asked.
'I'll lose my badge if I break into that woman's house...'
'Forget your badge! Get moving. I'll have the two girls ready for you by the time you reach Paula's apartment. I expect you in twenty minutes,' and I hung up before he could protest.
Next I dialled Paula's number.
'Throw your clothes on,' I said when she answered the phone. 'Get Mrs. Dedrick up too. Muffin's calling for you in about ten minutes. I want you ever at Ocean End. I've found Dedrick.'
Paula said she would be ready. She didn't waste time asking questions.
I hung up and lit a cigarette. I was sweating with excitement. Somewhere in the silent room a clock ticked busily. I swung my legs up on the settee and tried to keep calm. With any luck, this would be the end of the case. By tomorrow, if it worked out the way I hoped it would, Perelli would be free.
I closed my eyes. It seemed a long time since I had any sleep. A lot had happened since Maxie had given me the pass-key to Barratt's apartment. It seemed almost too good to be true that within an hour the thing would be finished.
Then suddenly from somewhere upstairs there came a single choked bang of a gun.
I was off the settee across the room and bad the door open before the echo of the shot had ceased to roll through the silent house.
I stood in the hail, staring Into the darkness, listening. A door opened. A light flashed up. Someone ran along the gallery above me, past the head of the stairs. I caught a fleeting glimpse of a woman in a blue silk wrap. Another door opened; then a wild, horrified scream rang out. I sprang forward, mounted the stairs three at the time, reached the gallery as another scream sounded from a lighted doorway at the end of the gallery.
I ran down the gallery, paused outside the door and looked into the room: Dedrick's room.
Serena was bending over the bed, frantically shaking his shoulder as he lay still and silent on the bed. 'Lee!' she was screaming. What have you done? Lee! My darling! Speak to me!' I went quickly into the room. One brief look at the man on the bed told me he was dead. The side of his head was smashed in, and blood ran down his face on to his white shirt.
I caught hold of Serena's arm.
'All right,' I said sharply. 'You can't do anything.'
She spun round, her face white and her eyes glazed with, horror, to stare at me. She started to scream, raised her hands as if to push me away, then her eyes rolled back and she fell into my arms in a faint.
I lowered her gently to the floor, bent over the dead man. A .38 Colt automatic lay on the bed by his right hand. Smoke still drifted from the barrel. There was a fixed, grinning look of terror on his face, and I could see the powder burns on his skin.
'What's happened?'
I turned.
Wadlock, in a faded red dressing-gown, his hair standing on ends, stood in the doorway.
'He's shot himself,' I said curtly. 'Let's get Mrs. Dedrick out of here.'
I bent over her, lifted her and carried her out of the room.
Wadlock stood aside, his old grey face twitching.
I carried Serena down the stairs and into the lounge and laid her on the settee.
'Open the casement doors and let's get some air in here,' I said as Wadlock switched on the lights.
While he was opening the doors leading on to the terrace I poured a stiff whisky into a glass and returned to Serena.
As I knelt beside her, she opened her eyes.
'Take it easy,' I said. 'Here, have some of this.'
She pushed my hand away and half sat up.
'Lee.'
'Now, look, you can't help him. No one can help him. Just take it easy.'
She dropped back on the pillow and hid her face in her hands.
'Lee, why did you do it?' she moaned, half to herself. 'My darling, why did you do it?'
Wadlock came over and looked at her helplessly.
'Get the police,' I said. Tell them what's happened, and keep out of this.'
'I don't understand,' he said, bewildered. What are you doing here?'
'Never mind. Get the police.'
He started to say something, changed his m
ind
and went slowly from the room. I heard him mounting the stairs.
'Drink this,' I said, turning back to Serena. 'You'll need it. Come on. The cops are going to get tough when they find out you've been hiding him.'
She took the whisky, gulped some of it, shuddered and put the glass down.
'Why should they? He made me promise not to tell them. He came back two days ago. He escaped from his kidnappers. He said they would kill him if they found out where he was. He wouldn't let me tell even Wadlock.'
'Did he tell you who kidnapped him?'
'Barratt and Perelli,' she said breathlessly. 'He said Barratt hired Perelli because Lee wanted to give up his past life.'
That was exactly what I didn't want to hear.
'Are you sure he said Perelli?'