‘You’re missing something,’ I said. ‘The D.A. is holding a Press meeting right now. All the boys are in there.’
He pursed his lips and made a rude noise.
‘That old wind-bag! All he thinks about is getting his ugly mug in the papers.’ He came in and folded himself down in one of the armchairs. ‘When I write my piece about this kidnapping, it’s going to be from a completely different angle from those suckers in with your boss. This, Harry, could be the big story if it is handled right and I’m going to handle it right. Renick is a smart boy. I’ll talk to him, but not to his boss. He’s no use to me.’ He lit a cigarette, his quizzing eyes searching my face. ‘They reckon she’s dead, don’t they?’
‘That’s their guess. They don’t know for sure.’
‘How’s Malroux taking it? I went there, but the house is surrounded by cops. I couldn’t get near him.’
‘He seems to be taking it pretty well. You must remember he is a dying man. He hasn’t more than a couple of months to live.’
‘And how’s his glamorous wife taking it?’
‘She’s collapsed.’
Cowley stared at me.
‘She’s — what?’
‘She’s under doctor’s orders. She has collapsed. You know what the word collapse means?’
He threw his head back and laughed like a hyena.
‘That’s rich! I would have betted she would have been dancing the can-can on the roof.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look, these people — the Malroux — are French. Do you know anything about the heredity laws in France?’
‘I can’t say I do. What has that to do with it?’
‘By law, a child inherits half the parents’ estate. That means this girl would have got half Malroux’s millions. Even if Malroux wanted to give his wife all his money, he couldn’t do it. Half what he owns goes automatically and by law to the girl when he dies, and half what he owns must be a very, very large slice of dough.’
I felt a spooky feeling run through me.
‘If these kidnappers have murdered the girl, and it seems likely, and if Malroux dies shortly, and that seems likely too, Rhea Malroux inherits the whole fortune. That’s why I’m surprised to hear she has collapsed — probably with joy.’
Here then could be the motive for Odette’s death: had this faked kidnapping been a blind to set the stage for murder? Had Rhea picked on me for a catspaw?
Cowley said, ‘What’s on your mind, Harry? You look as if you have swallowed a bee.’
The inter-com buzzed at this moment. I flicked down the switch.
‘I want you,’ Meadows bawled. ‘Come on in.’
‘His Master’s Voice,’ Cowley said, grinning.
I got to my feet.
‘See you, Tim,’ I said. ‘Anything I can do, just let me know.’
Glad to escape from his quizzing eyes, I left the office at a run.
II
By midday, the organised search for Odette Malroux had swung into its stride and it was on a scale that had me scared. Every road out of town was blocked. Army personnel from a nearby camp had been called in to help. More than a thousand men, police and troops, were allotted territory in the needle-in-a-haystack hunt for the missing girl. Three helicopters buzzed over Palm Bay and Palm City with a direct radio link to Meadow’s headquarters.
Meadows told the newspaper men who still hung around, waiting hopefully. ‘We’re playing a hunch that she’s in the district. We reckon she’s dead, but we could be wrong. If she’s dead, then it’s my guess her body has been dumped somewhere and we are going to find it. If she’s still alive, then she could be hidden somewhere close and we are going to find her. Every house, every apartment and farm will be checked. We have plenty of men. It’ll take time, but if she’s within fifty miles of this office, sooner or later we’ll find her.’
Later, when the newspaper men had gone, Renick came in. He had been down to the hospital to talk again to Walter Kerby in the hope Kerby had remembered now something that would give a clue to the kidnapper.
Meadows looked searchingly at him.
‘Anything?’
‘No. At least he is sure the man was tall and broad-shouldered. It doesn’t help much, but it is something. We know we are looking for a tall, broad-shouldered man who smokes Luckies, who owns a pretty wackey car, and weighs around one hundred and eighty pounds.’
‘How did you get his weight?’ Meadows asked.
‘From the heel print. Barty experimented. The impression came right when one of his men weighing one hundred and eighty-five pounds trod down on the soil.’
Meadows looked pleased.
‘A little more information like that, and we’ll be able to put out a composite picture.’
I listened to all this with a tension that made my muscles ache.
Then the door jerked open and Police Captain Reiger came in. His broad fleshy face was alight with excitement.
‘We’ve gotta break!’ he said. ‘A guy living out at West Beach has reported an accident. His name is Herbert Carey. He owns a drug store at West Beach. Last night, he and his wife were visiting relatives at Lone Bay. He parked his car at Lone Bay parking lot. As he was leaving the parking lot a T.R.3 came into the lot and Carey collided with it.’
While he was talking, I went over to the window and lit a cigarette. I kept my back turned to the room. I knew I had lost colour. I was sure they would see something wrong if they got a look at my face.
‘It was the Malroux girl’s car. Carey took the number. He admits the accident was his fault. And listen — a man was driving!’ As Reiger talked in his hard cop voice, every word he said stabbed into me.
‘This guy must have been one of the kidnappers. Although it was Carey’s fault, the guy wouldn’t stop.
He drove to the end of the lot, parked the car and ran off.’
Meadows demanded, ‘Why the hell didn’t Carey report the accident right away?’
‘He does what his wife tells him. It was his fault, and she wouldn’t let him admit it. He only made up his mind this morning to report it.’
Renick said, ‘I want to talk to him.’
‘He’s on his way down now. I sent a squad car to pick him up. He’ll be here any minute.’
‘Did he get a good look at this guy?’
‘I think so. The park was dark, but at least he talked to him.’
By now I had control of my nerves. I didn’t dare meet Carey. I came away from the window.
‘I guess I’ll get back to my desk. I’ve a whale of a lot of work to do,’ I said and made for the door.
‘Hey!’ Renick said. ‘Stick around. I want you to hear what this guy says.’
Would Carey recognise me? Would he walk into this office, stare at me and then say, ‘This is the man!’
I went over to an empty desk and sat down. The next twenty minutes were the worst minutes I have ever lived through.
Reiger, who had been studying the wall map, said suddenly, ‘You know that old silver mine off Highway Seven? Could be a place to dump a body. I’d better check it,’ and he picked up the telephone receiver and began to give orders.
These guys are professionals, I thought. Where was I going to hide Odette’s body? With road blocks in operation, with over a thousand men already in action, searching, checking house after house, apartment after apartment, how was I going to get rid of the body?
While we waited, the telephone bell kept ringing. Every five minutes or so we got a report of progress. These guys were really working. Already a quarter of the map had been checked. I saw the search was drawing closer to my street. Would they think to check the garage? Would they think to check the car?
There came a sudden knock on the door and in came Herbert Carey and his wife.