He snatched up the telephone receiver and called Umney.
‘Any news?’
‘Lu’s just checked out the bus station. No one’s seen her, and we have good contacts there. Our best bet is the waterfront. Lu’s on his way down there.’
An idea dropped into Frost’s mind. He remembered what Gina had said to him: I don’t give a shit about money. I just want to take off and do my thing.
‘Is there a way out, hippy colony around here?’
‘Where isn’t there? Sure, the freaks get together at Paddler’s Creek. Do you think she could be there?’
‘I don’t know. Where’s this place?’
‘Around ten miles out of the city towards Key West,’ Umney told him. ‘They have these swing festivals there.’
‘Where do I find it?’
‘Go along the highway south. There’s a motel on the right hand side. Twin Oakes. Take the first turning past the motel on your right and that takes you down to the beach. You think she’s there?’
‘How the hell do I know, but I’m going to look,’ and Frost hung up.
He got into the Lamborghini and sat for a long moment, thinking, then he drove fast to the Spanish Bay hotel.
Five minutes later he was once again facing Grandi.
Frost now was all cop. He sat down, his face as hard and as expressionless as Grandi’s.
‘You have her?’ Grandi snapped.
‘No. I’m going to level with you,’ Frost said. ‘She wanted to be kidnapped. Okay, I helped her, but it was she who neutralised the fence. She went to the harbour with a suitcase where my associates picked her up. They took her to the Ace of Spades.’
‘I know all that,’ Grandi snarled. ‘It’s on tape!’
‘But what you don’t know, she got one of my associates into bed and while they were copulating she bashed him with a gun and took off. We’re trying to find her. Now listen carefully, Grandi, she wants you dead, and she has a gun. I don’t want any more of this crap about finding her in four hours. We’ll find her, but it will take more than four hours. This is up to you.’
‘So she’s got away?’ Grandi seemed to shrink a little.
‘That’s it. She took a car. We found it on the waterfront. We’ve checked. She hasn’t tried to hire a boat. We are checking the hotels.’ Frost paused, then went on, ‘How sick is she?’
Grandi clenched his fists.
‘So sick she should have been committed,’ he said as if the words were being dragged from him, ‘but I couldn’t do that to her. Instead, I put her behind an electrified fence. Amando is a mental specialist in charge of her. His weekly reports show she is deteriorating. In Rome, she took a massive dose of L.S.D. It shocked her brain out of balance. Amando describes her as a sexual lunatic. That’s how sick she is... but I don’t give a damn what she has become. She is my daughter, and I want her back!’ He glared at Frost. ‘It was through you, she escaped, so bring her back or I’ll fix you as I have fixed Vessi! Make no mistake about that!’
‘She hates you, Grandi. She wants you dead. She has a gun. She told me you want to screw her,’ Frost said.
‘I’ve listened to all her sick talk on the tape,’ Grandi said. ‘She didn’t know what she was saying. Even if I dropped dead tomorrow, she wouldn’t be able to touch a dollar. It is all in trust.’ He paused, then pointed his finger at Frost, ‘Find her, and bring her to me. Do that, and I will pay you five million dollars.’
Frost became alert. He leaned forward, ‘You mean that? How will you pay me?’
Grandi shrugged.
‘As you like. Any bank anywhere... cash. I want her back!’
‘Are you really making a deal with me or are you just conning me?’ Frost said.
‘It’s a deal. I am too big a man to go back on my word. Bring her to me, and I will give you my word I will pay you five million dollars, but if you don’t find her, I again give you my word: consider yourself dead!’
Frost got to his feet.
‘I’ll find her. It could take time, but for five million, I will find her!’
Leaving the hotel, he stood for a long time by the Lamborghini. Around him was the murmur of voices. A swing band played on the hotel terrace. The big, yellow moon floated in a cloudless sky. The time was 21.05.
Five million dollars!
I am too big a man to go back on my word.
Frost accepted that.
The wheel had turned full circle. Now he had to find her.
Frost left the Lamborghini under a clump of mango trees, and walked the rest of the way.
He could hear the sound of guitars and singing voices, and as he drew nearer, he picked up the smell of unwashed bodies and reefer smoke, so he knew he was approaching the hippy colony.
There was plenty of cover and he moved cautiously. He could now see campfires burning and figures moving around. He paused behind a sea shrub and watched.
There were some hundred or so young people milling around, talking, singing, some dancing by themselves: aimless, shiftless movements, and he guessed they were high.
Somehow, he told himself, Gina just might be there. This scene would be what she called her thing, but how to find her?
He moved to another clump of shrubs which brought him nearer to the camp fires. He waited, searching, watching, but he couldn’t see any girl milling around who resembled Gina.
Should he walk into that mob and start asking questions? He decided it wouldn’t be safe. They all seemed pretty high, and he didn’t fancy the idea of walking into the midst of them.
He squatted down on his haunches. Maybe, if he waited long enough...
He watched and waited for longer than an hour, but still he saw no sign of Gina. Then just when he was deciding to give up, he heard a faint rustle behind him. A snake? He remained motionless, his muscles tense, ready to spring aside, but waiting.
‘Stay right where you are, man,’ a voice said behind him, ‘or you’ll lose a kidney.’
He felt the prick of a knife in his back, and he relaxed.
Snakes bothered him, but not a man with a knife.
‘I’m all still,’ he said.
‘We don’t like peepers around here, man,’ the voice said.
Frost judged the speaker was young, but sure of himself.
‘Sorry,’ Frost made his voice sound humble. ‘You kids seem to be having a ball,’ then he acted. His right hand swept behind him, smashing against a wrist. He heard a yelp of pain as he spun around. He dropped on the crouching figure, flattening the man into the sand. His hands fastened on the lean, sweating neck.
In the strong moonlight, he saw the Afro hairdo, the black glistening skin.
‘Going to be good, sonny?’ he said, his knee hard into the small of the negro’s back.
‘Sure... sure...’ the black gasped. ‘You’re killing me!’
Frost looked quickly around. He saw the switchblade knife glittering in the moonlight some ten feet away. He was on his feet and had gathered up the knife before the black struggled to a sitting position.
‘Jesus, man!’ the black gasped. ‘I didn’t know you were fuzz. Honestly, I thought you were a peeper!’
Frost threw the knife far into the dark shrubs.
He regarded the black. He was lean, young, with big wild eyes and a scraggly chin beard. He was dressed in a chequered shirt and jeans.
‘What’s your name, sonny?’ Frost asked quietly.
‘I’m Buck. I swear I wasn’t going to hurt you. We don’t like peepers around here.’
‘I’m not a cop, Buck,’ Frost said, and walking slowly up to the black, he dropped in the sand beside him. ‘I’m looking for someone.’