“Why should you become violent?” Val asked, her mouth suddenly turning dry.
“People in my state often do.”
Val couldn’t bear to listen to this kind of talk.
“Chris, I need some money. I haven’t enough in my account. Would you sign a blank cheque for me? I’ve brought your cheque book along.”
He sat motionless for so long she wasn’t sure if he had heard what she had said, then slowly, he turned his head and the suspicious expression in his eyes sent a chill up her spine.
“How much do you want?”
“Oh, a few thousand dollars.” Val tried unsuccessfully to sound casual. “You see, Chris, we have a lot of expenses. I’ve decided not to let daddy pay the hotel bill and...”
“You don’t have to lie about it,” he said. “Exactly how much money do you want?”
Val sat motionless. She would have to ask her father, she told herself hopelessly. She could lie to him, but she had never succeeded in lying to Chris.
“I can manage, Chris. Let’s forget it.”
He sat forward so abruptly, the nurse watching paused in her knitting, ready to rise to her feet.
“Is someone blackmailing you about me?” he asked, staring at Val. “Is that it?”
She hesitated, then realising, he must be told, said, “Yes, Chris.”
He slumped down in the chair.
“How much does he want?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“It’s not much, is it? Well, we must tell the police. One should never pay blackmail. I’ll admit I did it, and that will be that. If we pay this man, he will go on making demands... blackmailers always do.”
“Admit you did what?” Val exclaimed, stiffening.
“Whatever the man says I did. I told you, didn’t I, that I could have done anything... even murdered someone.” He looked away from her, his long, slim fingers moving restlessly up and down his thighs. “Last night I dreamed I killed a woman. I expect that’s what I have done... killed some woman. Is that what he says I did?”
“Stop it!” Val said fiercely. “You don’t know what you are saying! You haven’t killed anyone!”
“Is that what he says I did?” he repeated, looking up at her. Then as she said nothing, he suddenly shrugged.
“What’s money, anyway? Give me the cheque book.”
She took the cheque book from her bag and gave it to him with a pen. He signed three blank cheques and then handed her back the cheque book.
“I’ll never come out of here, so you may as well have the use of my money. I leave it to you, Val. Clear the account and put the money in your account.”
Val put the cheque book back in her bag. Her hands were shaking and she was very white.
“Who was the woman I killed, Val?” he asked.
“There was no woman. You didn’t do anything? I know you didn’t!”
“I suppose it is better to pay blackmail. On second thoughts, your father would hate me to be tried for murder, wouldn’t he?”
“You wouldn’t be tried for murder, darling. You haven’t done anything.”
“Who is this man who is blackmailing us?”
“Oh, just a man. Don’t worry about him.”
“If he hadn’t convinced you, you wouldn’t be paying him, would you?”
“Don’t let’s talk any more about it. I’m going, but I’ll you tomorrow.”
“You don’t really have to bother. I manage Sitting here or my own,” he said indifferently and closed his eyes.
In despair, she turned and walked away.
Chapter Seven
Sam Karsh was waiting when Homer Hare came heavily into his office after a long and excellent lunch.
“Well, I thought you were in jug by now,” Karsh said. “What happened?”
“Sammy, you must learn to trust me. We’re on to a very good thing... like I told you. The little lady has everything to gain and a husband to lose.”
“Yeah... from what I hear, she’s lost him already.”
Hare dismissed this with a wave of his hand.
“She’s in love with him,” he said. “Knowing human nature the way I do, when a woman is stupid enough to fall in love, she is a sucker for me.” He looked at the strap watch on his fat wrist, “I think I can call her now. She’ll have had dine to make up her mind.”
“This idea of yours doesn’t jell with me,” Karsh said uneasily. “We’ve never stuck our necks out this far. Are you sure she won’t bleat to the cops?”
“She won’t. We’ve never stuck our necks out this far because we have never had the chance of picking up half a million bucks,” Hare said. Lifting the telephone receiver, he asked Lucille to connect him with the Spanish Bay hotel.
Val had just got back from her visit to the sanatorium and was about to sit down before the open window when the telephone bell buzzed. She hesitated, then crossing the room, she answered the call.
“Is that Mrs. Burnett?”
She immediately recognised the dreaded, wheezy voice. She controlled the impulse to slam down the receiver. She said, “Yes.”
“We talked this morning.” She could hear the fat man struggling with his breath. “Is it yes or no, madam?”
“It’s yes, but I need time,” Val said, aware her voice was unsteady. “I can pay twenty thousand tomorrow. I need two weeks before I pay the rest.”
“That would be satisfactory. In cash, if you please. Would you be good enough to come to my office tomorrow at eleven and bring the cash? You have my address. We will then be able to discuss how the rest of the money is to be paid.”
“I’ll do that,” Val said and hung up. She stared across the room for some moments, then she abruptly called the Florida Banking Corporation and asked to speak to the manager. She had only to mention her name to be put through immediately.
Henry Thresby, the manager of the bank, was warned by his secretary that the daughter of Charles Travers was on the line.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Burnett,” he said in his bright, alert business voice. “Is there something I may do for you?”
“Yes, please,” Val told him. “I want twenty thousand dollars. I will be in tomorrow morning. I’ll bring my husband’s cheque.”
“Certainly. I’ll have the money ready for you. There’ll be no difficulty about that.”
“I want the money in one hundred dollar bills,” Val went on, hesitated then said, “I would be glad if you would take a note of the numbers of all the bills and let me have the numbers. Would you also please arrange to have the money done up in a parcel and sealed with the bank’s seal?”
Thresby’s long experience in banking affairs allowed his tone to remain normal while his expression became startled.
“Certainly... only too happy, Mrs. Burnett. The parcel will be ready for you when you come. Do you wish to check the amount before the parcel is sealed?”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be at the bank about ten o’clock.”
“Everything will be ready and arranged as you wish, Mrs. Burnett.”
“Thank you,” and Val hung up.
Thresby, a small dapper man with a balding head and shrewd eyes pushed back his chair. He stared into space, frowning. He was a conscientious banker. He had been pleased to have obtained Chris Burnett’s account when the Burnetts had come to stay at the Spanish Bay hotel. He was aware of the importance of these two young people... even more aware of their connection with the great Charles Travers. These instructions, given him by Mrs. Burnett, set an alarm ringing in his mind. Twenty thousand dollars, the numbers to be recorded and the money to be put in a sealed parcel meant to him either ransom or blackmail money.
He lit a cigarette and pondered the problem. He and Chief of Police Terrell had gone to school together. They spent holidays, fishing together. He knew he could rely on Terrell’s discretion. Although he felt uneasy that he was going beyond the strict letter of his duty, he didn’t hesitate for long. He reached for the telephone and asked to be connected with Police Headquarters. Sergeant Thames, the desk sergeant, told him that Terrell was out. He had no idea when he would be back.