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With a stiff little bow, he closed the car door.

‘Very well, sir,’ he said.

Jamison drove to his bank.

The teller behind the counter inclined his head as Jamison put the briefcase in front of him.

‘Good-morning, sir,’ he said. ‘What may I do for you?’

Jamison was the Bank’s richest and most important client. He always received the red-carpet treatment.

‘Put five thousand in one-hundred-dollar bills in the case,’ Jamison snapped, ‘and be quick about it!’

The teller took the briefcase.

‘Certainly, sir.’

He filled out a withdrawal form and gave it to Jamison to sign, then he quickly put the money in the case.

Minutes later, with the briefcase locked in the car’s trunk, Jamison drove along Sea Boulevard, turning onto the highway, and at exactly 11.00 he pulled up outside the Star Motel which was the most de luxe of the number of motels built along the beach road, facing the sea.

For the past half hour, Lucky Lucan had been standing outside his motel cabin, anxiously wondering if Jamison had changed his mind. He had taken precautions that he considered necessary should Jamison appear. Hidden, in the motel’s living-room, was a tape recorder which was activated at the sound of voices. Lucan told himself that if he was going to get involved in a murder, he must be able to prove that he was only the go-between if the operation turned sour. With a tape of the conversation, Jamison would be as deeply involved as Kling.

He was relieved, although still uneasy, when he saw Jamison pull up outside the motel.

So Jamison was playing crafty, he thought. A hired car. He still imagines I don’t know who he is.

He hurried to the car.

‘Good-morning, sir,’ he said, opening the driver’s door. ‘Please come in. We can talk quietly, and without interruption in my cabin.’

‘We will talk on the ground of my choosing!’ Jamison said, his voice harsh. ‘Get in the car!’

‘But…’

‘You heard what I said!’

Lucan walked around the car to the passenger’s door and sat by Jamison’s side. He slammed the door, venting his well concealed frustration that there would be no tape recording.

Jamison set the car in motion.

‘Well, sir, I…’

‘Be quiet!’ Jamison barked. ‘We’ll talk later.’

Man! Lucan thought, this sonofabitch is a real tough cookie. He recalled what Sydney Drysdale had said: He’s VIP and goddamn dangerous. He found the palms of his hands were damp and he wiped them on the knees of his trousers.

Jamison, his hard, rock-like face expressionless, drove along the beach road, then turned down a narrow lane, leading directly to a vast stretch of sand, sand dunes and the sea.

At the end of the lane there was a turn-around. He pulled up and got out of the car. He surveyed the deserted beach. About a quarter of a mile away where the sand was firm, there were sun-bathers and people swimming in the sea. Their distant shouts faintly reached the two men.

Jamison nodded and got back into the car.

‘Now we talk. What have you arranged, Lucan?’

Lucan again wiped his hands on the knees of his trousers.

‘I’ve found the man who will do the job, sir,’ he said.

‘Who and what is he?’ Jamison demanded, turning to stare at Lucan with his cold, hard eyes.

‘His name is Ernie Kling. He is connected with the Mafia. When the price is right, he will do private jobs,’ Lucan said. ‘I’ve asked him if he is free, and he is. Before taking this further, sir, I thought it best to consult you.’

With blunt-shaped fingers, Jamison drummed on the driving-wheel of the car while he thought, then he said, ‘Where is he?’

‘He lives down-town Washington.’

‘You telephoned him?’

‘Yes, sir, but I gave him no details. I told him a job might be coming up, and was he free for the next three weeks. He said he was. So if you want to use him, he is available.’

‘How reliable is this man?’

‘I assure you, sir, you couldn’t find a better man for this kind of job. He has worked for the Mafia for years, and there’s never been a blow-back. To my knowledge, he has done six or seven private jobs, as yours is. No blow-back. He has no police record. He is utterly reliable.’

‘What are his methods of operation?’

‘That I don’t know, sir. This is not my scene. You will have to talk to him yourself.’

Jamison stiffened.

‘I will have nothing to do with him! It is your job to find out his method of operation. You are my go-between. Understand?’

Lucan shifted uneasily.

‘It would be more satisfactory if…’

‘See this man! Tell him what needs to be done, hear what he has to say, then report to me! Is that understood?’

This was something Lucan didn’t want. He wanted to put Jamison and Kling together, pick up some money and duck out.

‘I thought that if I introduced you to him, sir,’ he said, ‘I could then withdraw. This is not my scene.’

Jamison glared at him.

‘Wrong thinking, Lucan. If you want this money, you are damn well going to earn it. Understood?’

Lucan hesitated, but his greed over-rode his caution.

‘I understand, sir. If you want me to act as your go-between, you can rely on me.’

Jamison gave him a hard, sneering smile.

‘Right. So it is agreed for two hundred thousand this man will arrange a foolproof lethal accident and you will act as my go-between.’

Here’s the crunch, Lucan thought, and licked his dry lips.

‘Well, sir, I did ask Kling what his going rate was for a perfect job.’ Lucan began to wipe his sweating hands on the knees of his trousers. ‘He said four hundred thousand, take it or leave it.’

‘You’re not trying to be tricky with me, are you, Lucan?’ The bark in Jamison’s voice made Lucan flinch. ‘If you are, you’ll live to regret it.’

‘I’m telling you what he said. Four hundred thousand and expenses and a perfect job.’

Jamison stared through the dusty windshield at the sea while he thought.

To be rid of Shannon, he wouldn’t hesitate to pay a million or even two million dollars. He thought of Tarnia. With her as his wife, giving him a son, how different his life would become!

‘What does expenses mean?’ he demanded.

‘To be a perfect job, Kling will have to stay here for two or three weeks. I would say one or two thousand would cover it.’

‘I will pay four hundred and five thousand dollars for a perfect job,’ Jamison said. ‘No more. Is that understood?’

Lucan drew in a deep breath. This would mean he would clear a hundred thousand for himself.

‘Understood, sir.’

‘How soon can you begin this operation?’

‘I will arrange for Kling to come here tomorrow. We will discuss the operation. I will have his views for you the day after.’

Jamison nodded.

‘Then the day after tomorrow, I will pick you up at your motel at eleven o’clock, and we will finalize this.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Jamison removed the car ignition keys and handed them to Lucan.

‘Unlock the trunk,’ he said. ‘You will find a briefcase. Take it. It contains five thousand dollars for necessary and immediate expenses.’

Lucan relaxed. He was about to ask for money to get Kling to Paradise City.

‘Yes, sir.’

He left the car, opened the trunk and took possession of the briefcase.

As he returned to the car, hugging the briefcase, Jamison said, ‘Now listen carefully to me, Lucan. Don’t ever attempt to play tricks with me.’ He leaned forward and, with his thumb, he smeared a gnat that was flying against the inside of the windshield. ‘I will smear you like that, Lucan, as I’ve smeared that gnat. I have a long arm. Remember that.’