I let a moment go by, then I said, ‘We talked to the man who gave your message to Prince Litsi at Bradbury. He picked you out from a photograph. We have his signed statement.’
Nanterre said viciously, ‘I saw your advertisement. If Prince Litsi had died, no one would have known of the message.’
‘Did you mean him to die?’
‘Live, die, I didn’t care. To frighten him, yes. To get de Brescou to sign.’ He tried ineffectually still to unravel his bonds. ‘Let me go.’
I went instead into the garage where I’d waited and came out again with the big envelope of signed documents.
‘Stop struggling,’ I said to Nanterre, ‘and listen carefully.’
He paid little attention.
‘Listen,’ I said, ‘or I fetch the police.’
He said sullenly then that he was listening.
‘The price of your freedom,’ I said, ‘is that you put your signature to these contracts.’
‘What are they?’ he said furiously, looking at their impressive appearance. ‘What contracts?’
‘They change the name of the de Brescou et Nanterre construction company to the Gascony construction company, and they constitute an agreement between the two equal owners to turn the private company into a public company, and for each owner to put his entire holding up for public sale.’
He was angrily and bitterly astounded.
‘The company is mine... I manage it... I will never agree!’
‘You’ll have to,’ I said prosaically.
I produced the small tape recorder from the pocket of my jacket, pressed the rewind button slightly, and started it playing.
Nanterre’s voice came out clearly ‘Live, die, I didn’t care. To frighten him, yes. To get de Brescou to sign.’
I switched off. Nanterre, incredibly, was silent, remembering, perhaps, the other incriminating things he had said.
‘We have the evidence of the messenger at Bradbury,’ I said. ‘We have your voice on this tape. We have your bomb, I suspect, in my car. You’ll sign the contract, you know.’
‘There’s no bomb in your car,’ he said furiously.
‘Perhaps a firework?’ I said.
He looked at me blankly.
‘Someone’s coming into the mews,’ Thomas said urgently, producing the handkerchief. ‘What do we do?’ A car had driven in, coming home to its garage.
‘If you yell,’ I said to Nanterre with menace, ‘the police will be here in five minutes and you’ll regret it... They’re not kind to people who plant bombs in cars.’
The incoming car drove towards us and stopped just before reaching Sammy’s white hiding place. The people got out, opened their garage, drove in, closed the doors, and looked our way dubiously.
‘Goodnight,’ I called out, full of cheer.
‘Goodnight,’ they replied, reassured, and walked away to the street.
‘Right,’ I said, relaxing, ‘time to sign.’
‘I will not sell the company. I will not.’
I said patiently, ‘You have no alternative except going to prison for attempting to murder both Prince Litsi and myself.’
He still refused to face facts: and perhaps he felt as outraged at being coerced to sign against his will as Roland had done.
I brought the car-starting gadget out of my pocket and explained what it was.
Nanterre at last began to shake, and Litsi, Sammy and Thomas backed away from the car in freshly awakened genuine alarm, as if really realising for the first time what was in there, under the bonnet.
‘It’ll be lonely for you,’ I said to Nanterre. ‘We’ll walk to the end of the mews, leaving you here. Prince Litsi and the other two will go away. When they’re safely back in the house in Eaton Square, I’ll press the switch that starts my engine.’
Litsi, Sammy and Thomas had already retreated a good way along the mews.
‘You’ll die by your own bomb,’ I said, and put into my voice and manner every shred of force and conviction I could summon. ‘Goodbye,’ I said.
I turned away. Walked several steps. Wondered if he would be too scared to call my bluff; wondered if anyone would have the nerve to risk it.
‘Come back,’ he yelled. There was real fear in the rising voice. Real deadly fear.
Without any pity, I stopped and turned.
‘Come back...’
I went back. There was sweat in great drops on his forehead, running down. He was struggling frantically still with the knots, but also trembling too much to succeed.
‘I want to make guns,’ he said feverishly. ‘I’d make millions... I’d have power... The de Brescous are rich, the Nanterres never were... I want to be rich by world standards... to have power... I’ll give you a million pounds... more... if... you get Roland to sign... to make guns.’
‘No,’ I said flatly, and turned away again, showing him the starter.
‘All right, all right...’ He gave in completely, finally almost sobbing. ‘Put that thing down... put it down...’
I called up the mews, ‘Litsi.’
The other three stopped and came slowly back.
‘Mr Nanterre will sign,’ I said.
‘Put that thing down,’ Nanterre said again faintly, all the bullying megatones gone. ‘Put it down.’
I put the starter back in my pocket, which still frightened him.
‘It can’t go off by itself, can it?’ Litsi asked, not with nervousness, but out of caution.
I shook my head. ‘The switch needs firm pressure.’
I showed Nanterre the contracts more closely and saw the flicker of fury in his eyes when he saw the first page of each was the same sort of form he’d demanded that Roland should sign.
‘We need your signature four times,’ I said. ‘On each front page, and on each attached document. When you sign the attached documents, put your forefinger on the red seal beside your name. The three of us who are not in any way involved in the de Brescou et Nanterre business will sign under your name as witnesses.’
I put my pen into his shaking right hand and rested the first of the documents on top of my car.
Nanterre signed the French form. I turned to the last page of the longer contract and pointed to the space allotted to him. He signed again, and he put his finger on the seal.
With enormous internal relief, I produced the second set for a repeat performance. In silence, with sweat dripping off his cheeks, he signed appropriately again.
I put my name under his in all four places, followed each time by Thomas and Sammy.
‘That’s fine,’ I said, when all were completed. ‘Monsieur de Brescou’s lawyers will put the contracts into operation at once. One of these two contracts will be sent to you or your lawyers in France.’
I put the documents back into their envelope and handed it to Litsi, who put it inside his coat, hugging it to his chest.
‘Let me go,’ Nanterre said, almost whispering.
‘We’ll untie you from the mirror so that you can remove what you put in my car,’ I said. ‘After that, you can go.’
He shuddered, but it seemed not very difficult for him, in the end, to unfix the tampered-with wiring and remove what looked like, in size and shape, a bag of sugar. It was the detonator sticking out of it that he treated with delicate respect, unclipping and separating, and stowing the pieces away in several pockets. ‘Now let me go,’ he said, wiping sweat away from his face with the backs of his hands.
I said, ‘Remember we’ll always have the Bradbury messenger’s affidavit and the tape recording of your voice... and we all heard what you said. Stay away from the de Brescous, cause no more trouble.’
He gave me a sick, furious and defeated glare. Sammy didn’t try to undo his handiwork but cut the nylon cord off Nanterre’s wrist with a pair of scissors.
‘Start the car,’ Litsi said, ‘to show him you weren’t fooling.’