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'Why sad?'

'Because it shows that Najib, in a most unbrotherly way, doesn't altogether trust me. I have no means either of communicating with him. He phones me when he needs me. So please don't bother to exert yourself with any physical measures to make me talk. I have nothing to say. That is the most honest statement I have made for some weeks.'

I wondered. Then I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He realized it and gave me a sympathetic nod of his head.

'I should say, however, Mr Carver, that I am authorized to discuss details for a satisfactory exchange. What price were you thinking of?'

'I wasn't. I don't intend to do any deal.'

'Unchivalrous. She is a very beautiful girl, and — a little bird says — has some tenderness for you. Just think — for a parcel which is of no importance to you intrinsically you can earn yourself, say, a thousand guineas and her release. She will be delighted and, no doubt, eventually show her gratitude in the one way which constantly occupies men's minds. I am assuming, of course, that you still have the parcel and that it is in a safe place?'

I said, 'You can assume that. But you're not getting the parcel. Nobody's getting it.'

He shook his head. 'Not us, not Mr O'Dowda, or Interpol?' He gave me a big beaming smile of disbelief. 'You are, as they say, on the horns of a dilemma. A most unusual one, too, because this beast has three horns. I am sad for you. It is a predicament I should not like to be in myself. As I say, she is a very beautiful young woman. What you call, I think, the Celtic type… No, no, perhaps Romany would be the word.'

He was right, of course. Not only about her physical type, but about my dilemma. At that moment I did not know which way to turn, what to do or where to go. Just for a moment I did reconsider using force on him in the hope that he might know more than he professed, but it was only for a moment. I could have taken him, but I didn't think he would speak before he passed out. Jimbo was a resolute type, inordinately proud of his loyalty.

I finished my drink and made for the door.

'Just sit there,' I said.

He nodded.

I went down the hallway and out. As I closed the door of the flat the solution to one question, at least, came to me. I realized that the tune the doorbell had played was 'Happy Birthday to You'.

A few minutes later, as I was about to get into the Facel Vega parked in the cul-de-sac outside the flat, Tich Kermode dubbed me over the back of the head and O'Dowda grabbed me like a sack of potatoes before I could hit the pavement. I passed out without protest.

CHAPTER EIGHT

'No human being, however great, or powerful,

Was ever so free as a fish.'

(John Ruskin)

It was a Rolls-Royce. Kermode was driving and I sat in the back with O'Dowda. I felt in my pocket for the gun that I had borrowed from Durnford. It was gone. When O'Dowda saw that I had surfaced he handed me a flask without a word. I drank, then shivered, and blinked my eyes at the road unwinding before the headlights. We were climbing steeply through pine woods. Probably, I thought, the road back to the château.

Kermode had his chauffeur's cap pitched at a jaunty angle and was whistling gently to himself, happy at the thought of a good time ahead. O'Dowda was wearing a knickerbocker suit of hairy Harris tweed. There was a big bruise on his right temple.

Nobody spoke for a long time. Then, staring straight ahead of him, O'Dowda said, 'You're a bastard.'

It wasn't a good conversational opener, so I ignored it.

He said, 'You're a bastard. So is Durnford, but he's a drunken bastard. If it's any interest to you, I've sacked him.'

'After twisting his arm to say where I was?'

'Both arms,' said Kermode over his shoulder.

The two of them had a merry chuckle over that.

I didn't relish the thought of the next few hours. O'Dowda wanted the parcel and he wasn't, I was sure, contemplating any kind of a deal — even if I'd been in a position to offer one.

He said, 'I hate time-wasting. Someone always has to pay for that, boyo.'

I yawned, closed my eyes, and leaned back against the genuine pigskin.

O'Dowda said, 'What makes you think you can sleep?'

I said, 'Try and stop me.' I slumped lower down and gave a drowsy grunt.

Kermode said, 'He should be fun, sir.'

O'Dowda said, 'Yes. Worth waiting for.'

From the corner of a half-opened eye I saw him pull out a cigar and light up. Despite the throb in my head, I went to sleep.

I woke as we turned into the driveway of the château.

O'Dowda said, 'Feel better?'

'Thanks.'

'Good. I want you in fighting trim. And this time I'm not taking bets.'

We went up the mile-long drive but we didn't go to the château. We turned off, down a side road, and climbed for about half a mile and then pulled up. Kermode dowsed the lights. Outside I got a glimpse of an expanse of water stretching away, steely blue under the moonlight. It looked like a lake and that brought unpleasant memories.

Standing at the side of the lake was a small cottage with a boathouse attached to it. They took me across to it and into the large main room.

'My workroom,' said Kermode.

There was a long bench down one side of the room, an open fireplace at the far end and on a little plinth in the middle stood an unclothed life-size wax figure without a head.

'When it's finished,' said O'Dowda, 'it's going to be you. We'll use the suit you're wearing now, so just take it off.' He looked at Kermode. 'Turn up the heating, Kermode, so that he doesn't get cold.'

Kermode moved around the room, turning on three or four electric heaters. O'Dowda lit another cigar and went to a cabinet and poured himself a brandy.

'There's one for you,' he said, 'when you've got the suit off.'

I stripped my suit off. What else could I do? If I had refused they would have enjoyed doing it for me.

O'Dowda — going to get me a brandy — said to Kermode, 'Do we want his shoes?'

Kermode shook his head. 'Too scruffy.'

O'Dowda handed me my brandy.

He said, 'Don't be too long drinking it. We want to tie your hands behind your back.'

I said, 'Have you figured out a place for me in the rogues' gallery?'

'Not yet,' said O'Dowda.

'Do me a favour and keep me well away from the policeman. I'm allergic to them.'

'So you should be. I suppose Interpol have been telling you that you have to hand the parcel over to them, or else?'

'Something like that.'

'Powerful things, governments,' said O'Dowda. 'I should know, I practically own a couple. I also have two Interpol men on my payroll. By the way, as of this date, you are no longer on my payroll. What is more, I don't intend to pay you a penny of what I owe you for your work so far unless you hand over the parcel to me.'

'Why not? You employed me to trace the car for you. I did just that.'

'You did far more than just that. You walked off with my property.'

While we were talking Kermode was busying himself at a large cupboard. So far as I could make out he was sorting out a collection of fishing rods.

I said, 'Have you had any communication from Najib lately?'

He nodded, blinked his small blue eyes at me through his cigar smoke, and said, 'A phone call. To save unnecessary beating about the bush, boyo, let me say I am well aware of the whole position. Najib wants the parcel in return for Julia. Interpol want it from you — or else. And I mean to have it. Tricky. For you. You have my sympathy but nothing else. Oh, and there is the other thing, too. This nonsense about my late wife. That's pure poppycock. Just the kind of thing Julia would dream up and that a crazy fool like Durnford would jump at. Mind you, I knew he was having an affair with my wife just before her unfortunate accident, but it didn't worry me. I was going to divorce her anyway. I'd already instructed my solicitors to prepare a petition. One of life's little accidents saved me the cost of their fees. Tie his hands, Kermode.'