"It took me about ten minutes to fix new bundles with ninety-eight tens and a five-hundred top and bottom. I taped the new envelope just like the old one. I put the rest of the five-hundreds in my safe-deposit box, came back to the office, and locked the envelope in his desk/'
"You went to the hotel that night when Grayson delivered it to see what would happen/' Jeff said,
"Right. I didn't think he'd count it again, not after sealing the envelope that way. I didn't think Baker would either, but I hung around outside looking up at Baker's room and watching the lobby from the pool entrance. If there'd been any trouble I would have known it."
"You knew Webb would count it," Jeff said.
"Sure."
"Naturally," Diana said, speaking for the first time. "But then it wouldn't matter. We thought probably when Mr. Webb found out the debt hadn't been paid he would come looking for Arnold. We knew Arnold couldn't raise that much money again, nor prove that Dudley had taken it. What happened between Arnold and Mr. Webb then was none of our concern."
The way she said it understated the problem and Jeff put it another way. "You mean if Arnold wound up on the side of the road with a couple of slugs in his head it wouldn't bother you."
"Frankly, no."
Jeff shook his head and swallowed. He believed all he had heard and, now that he understood this woman and what she had been through at the hands of his stepbrother, he was not particularly surprised. It was for Fiske and his new-found daring that he felt a certain grudging respect.
"That seems to be it, Webb/' he said.
The man from Las Vegas had lowered his gun but he still looked puzzled. Apparently he had been doing some arithmetic, because he said:
"Christ, there's only about three grand U.S. here. Not even that"
"ItH pay your expenses/* Fiske said, "and give you something for your time. You're welcome to it/* he said. "So why don't you take it and start traveling? There'll be no beef from us, will there, Diana?"
Webb thought it over and considered the odds. Then, proving that as a gambler he could be a good loser, he stuffed the bills back into the envelope and stuck it under his arm.
"It was hardly worth the trip,** he said. "But it's better than nothing and I guess you can't collect from a dead man or crack a bank." He backed to the entrance hall and glanced at Cordovez. "Take it easy with the gun, little man. Don't give me any trouble."
Jeff glanced at Spencer when the door closed. "I guess you didn't count it either."
The reporter still looked dazed. "All I did," he said, "was tear a hole in the envelope. When 1 saw those pretty orange-colored £ve-hundreds it was enough for me. Why should I count it?" he asked plaintively.
"Come on," Jeff said and nodded to Cordovez who had gone over to reload his gun. He touched Karen's arm. "We've got one more stop before Segurnal"
Luis Miranda acted as his own butler that evening. He opened the door himself after he had snapped on the overhead light, and when he recognized his callers, he bowed slightly and stepped back to let them enter. They waited in the hall until he had closed the door and then he led them into a long, impressive-looking room with a stained-beam ceiling and heavy curtains. The rug was thick, the furniture heavy but formal, and the two floor lamps which were lighted still left much of the room in shadow.
"Won't you sit down?" he asked politely.
Jeff thanked him and moved with Karen to a divan that looked comfortable but wasn't. Spencer selected an overstuffed chair and Cordovez took a straight-back at one side.
"Were you expecting us?" Jeff said.
"I was not sure. When the bell rang I thought it might be someone from Segurnal. You see, my wife told me about the riding crop she turned over to you. I was not sure what you would do with it."
*1 can bring you up to date," Jeff said. "It may take quite a while—"
<S I would like to hear what you have to say."
Jeff took a breath and began by speaking of Dan Spencer, the envelope he had taken, and the substitution that Fiske had made in Grayson's office. He explained how Spencer had taken Karen to Macuto, and how he had been picked up at the airport.
He paused here, but when there was no reaction from Miranda he went on to repeat Spencer's story of what had happened the night Harry Baker had been killed. When he finished he asked if Miranda had anything to add.
The lawyer's smile was thin and mirthless and his black eyes were fathomless in the shadows.
"Nothing at this time," he said. "I am an attorney, Mr. Lane, and I prefer to do my talking before a judge."
"You. don't deny you took the money?"
"How can I deny it?"
"You wanted the money so Grayson could not pay off and go back to the States—with your wife. He found out you had it and threatened to go to the police unless you returned it. He did not care who had killed Baker, but he had to have the money. You took it back yesterday afternoon."
"That is quite true,"
"You took the riding crop with you because that was the only way you could settle your account. You didn't care if he had you arrested or not/ 7
"In this country, a man has the right to protect his home and his good name. When the truth was known, no judge would convict me for what I did to Arnold Grayson/'
"Did you intend to kill him?"
"No. I wanted only to show my contempt, to let my wife see him. I could not prevent her leaving but I could perhaps make her understand what manner of man she had chosen." He paused and his voice grew quiet. "I did not know he was dead when I left/' he said. "I did not think I had struck him hard enough. I only meant to—"
The word choked off abruptly and when Jeff glanced up he saw that Miranda's eyes had focused beyond him. Not understanding why, he looked at Cordovez and what he saw was even more disturbing. For the little man was sitting on the edge of his chair, his eyes wide open and staring. Something akin to fear was mirrored there and the sight of it triggered a nervous spasm that sent an icicle racing up Jeffs spine. When he jerked his head round and saw Muriel Miranda standing no more than five feet away, he froze that way, his gaze fastening on the little automatic she held in her hand.
The door through which she had come gave on the rear of the center hall and that part of the room lay in shadow.
How long she had been listening no one could say, for she had made no sound as she approached and the dark dress had served as protective coloring. Now, as she stopped, her face was white and rigid, the mouth a scarlet slash.
"So you did kill him/' she said in a voice Jeff had never heard. "You lied," she said. "You told me you had only given him a thrashing. If he had-not been dead, Spencer would not have dared to take the money/*
Miranda faced her, his shoulders erect, his patrician face a brown mask in the lamplight He looked immaculate in his slacks and blue dressing-jacket. Gold links gleamed from the long French cuffs of his silk shirt. He made no move and his voice was clear and controlled.
"If you heard me, you know I said I did not think he was dead. I still do not."
"I told you what I'd do, Luis. w
She took another step and Jeff eased off the divan and got his feet under him, his throat tight and an odd fear expanding inside him.
"Wait a minute," he said. "That's not the way."
"Keep out of it," Muriel said.
"My stepbrother's not worth it," Jeff argued. He's not worth hanging for."
"They don't hang women here. They don't even hang men/'
Jeff looked at her eyes then and what he saw told him that, for this moment at least, the woman was no longer sane. She had brooded too long over a pyramiding burden of injustice, real or fancied, and this new desire for vengeance had corroded her ability to accept the blow which had been dealt her plans for the future. She had been infatuated with an idea rather than a man, but the loss was no less real to her now.