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He dropped the receiver back on to its cradle, then walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured two inches of whisky into a glass and drank it.

For some moments he waited for the spirit to knit his quailing nerves together, then he went unsteadily to Sophia’s bedroom door.

His father was still giving Sophia artificial respiration and he looked over his shoulder at Jay.

“What happened?”

Jay had never heard his father speak like this before. The words seemed to cut the air like a whip lash.

“She must have fainted,” Jay said, his voice a croak. “I heard her scream and a splashing noise. I went in there and found her.”

“Where’s that goddamn doctor?”

“He’s coming.”

“Go and drag him up here. Don’t stand there like a dummy! Get him up here!”

As Jay went back into the lounge, he heard a knock on the door and the door jerked open. It was then he saw the key of the door lying on the floor. His father must have got the floor waiter to let him in. The waiter had pushed out the key in the lock with the pass-key.

The hotel doctor, bag in hand, came in.

“In there,” Jay said, pointing to the open door, then, as the doctor walked into Sophia’s room, Jay moved silently to the door, keeping just out of sight.

She must be dead! he told himself. She had to be dead!

He heard his father say: “She fainted in the bath, hit her head and was under the water. I think I’ve got most of the water out of her. Here! Take over!”

Then followed three minutes of agonizing silence.

Was she dead?

Jay leaned against the wall, his heart thumping, listening and waiting.

Finally, he heard the doctor say: “She’ll be all right. She has a pretty bad concussion and she’ll be unconscious for several hours, but she’s going to be all right. It was a close thing. If you hadn’t thought of artificial respiration... ”

“Oh, skip it!” Delaney barked. “Let’s get her on the bed. Get nurses! Get everything you need. The sky’s the limit! I love this woman and I’m not going to lose her! Come on... get things organized!”

Jay drew in a long, slow breath. So he had lost out. It had been a gamble. He had been lucky with Kerr and the fat woman. If only he had had another minute before his father had come in!

Now he must think of himself.

Sophia would be unconscious for at least a couple of hours. He was sure she would give him away as soon as she could speak and his father would then hand him over to the police, so, if he was to get away, he had to act at once.

He was suddenly aware that perhaps after all this was the experience he had been looking for. The police would come after him. They would hunt him. He would have to rely on his wits and ingenuity to elude them.

There could be nothing more exciting than a man-hunt nor any greater test for his courage and ingenuity.

What did he need?

Money, of course, then clothes, toilet things and a weapon.

He touched the .25 automatic in his hip pocket. He was lucky to have that, he thought. Now money...

His father came out of the bedroom. There was sweat on his face and he looked fine-drawn, but otherwise he was his ice-cold ruthless self.

“That was a close call, Jay,” he said and went across to the liquor cabinet and mixed himself a whisky and soda. “She’s out of danger now, poor kid. It’s damn funny. I’ve never known her to faint before.” He looked at Jay and grinned. “You were certainly in an uproar. Well, I don’t blame you. I was in a bit of an uproar myself. Thanks for going to her help.”

Jay muttered under his breath and began to edge towards his bedroom.

The doctor came into the lounge at this moment and allowed Jay to escape into his room.

He shut the door, then went to the wardrobe, took from it a canvas sack he used when he went fishing and began hastily to put the various things in it he wanted to take with him.

He had just completed packing and had dropped the sack out of sight behind the bed when his father looked in.

“Better get some sleep, son. Don’t worry about her now. There’re a couple of nurses with her. I’m going to hit the sack myself. As soon as she regains consciousness, I’ll be called. You turn in.”

“Yes,” Jay said.

Delaney nodded and withdrew.

Jay waited until he heard the shower going in his father’s bathroom, then he went into his father’s bedroom.

On the chest of drawers was his father’s wallet, stuffed with ten thousand franc notes. Without bothering to count the money, Jay emptied the wallet, pushed the notes into his pocket, then went quickly back to his room.

This then was the beginning of a new adventure, he thought, as he picked up the canvas sack. By to-morrow morning the police would be looking for him. The man-hunt would be on!

He had money, a gun, his wits and his ingenuity. What more could he want?

He walked softly to his bedroom door, opened it, glanced into the empty lounge, then, moving quickly, he crossed to the door out on to the corridor, looked to right and left, then walked down the corridor to the stairs.

The lobby was still crowded. People were standing about discussing the film they had just seen. The clock over the reception desk showed that the time was now twenty minutes to two.

As Jay made his way through the crowd towards the exit, he felt a hand on his arm and he looked quickly around, fear gripping him.

Harry Stone, his father’s business manager, massive and perspiring in his tuxedo, grinned at him.

“Hey there, son,” he said. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“That’s my business,” Jay said curtly and pulling free, he continued on his way towards the revolving doors, leaving Stone staring blankly after him.

II

Inspector Devereaux pushed aside his pile of notes and reached for a cigarette.

Guidet, hot and tired, reclined in an easy chair and watched his chief. He wished he could go to bed, but he knew the Inspector wouldn’t give up now until he had decided on a new course of action.

“As it isn’t Kerr,” Devereaux said, leaning back in his chair and blowing a thin trail of smoke up to the ceiling, “we have to decide who is our next likely suspect. I have only one other man on my list who could have done it and that’s Jay Delaney.”

Guidet lifted his shoulders.

“Is it likely? Why should a boy like that want to kill the girl? Anyway, what makes you think he’s even a suspect?”

Devereaux frowned.

“There’s something very odd about him.” He leaned forward to flick ash off his cigarette. “He was the last to talk to the girl as far as we know. He was in the suite when she was up on the second floor. He had the opportunity.”

“You’ll have to watch your step,” Guidet said. “His father’s rich and has a lot of influence. Besides, Madame Delaney was in the suite at the time the girl was killed.”

Devereaux began poking holes in the blotter with a paperknife.

“I know and that bothers me.” He scowled at the blotter. “Then who could have done it? Some unknown who was up there who met the girl and killed her for no reason at all? I can’t accept that. I’m now almost positive the girl wasn’t killed in suite 30. I think it was faked to make us believe that’s where she was killed, as Kerr’s death was faked to make us believe he killed her. I’m sure of it. It’s a feeling I have.”

Guidet struggled with a yawn.

“It’s not feelings, Inspector, we have to work on: it’s evidence.”

Devereaux nodded.

“Yes. Well, let’s see if we can get some evidence. Who was on duty watching the second floor during the day?”

Guidet thought for a moment.

“Sergeant Humbert.”

“Is he still on duty?”

“I doubt it, but I’ll see.”

“If he isn’t get him here and get Lemont down here too.”

While Devereaux waited, he again went through his notes. He saw as he read his neat handwriting that he had been immediately suspicious of Jay Delaney once he had discovered him in the apparent lie about the necklace. Then his suspicions had subsided when he had had Jay’s obvious and very simple explanation.