“I guess so. Tell them this is urgent. I want this guy found and found fast I It’s more than two hours since we put the first call out. Can’t be all that hard to find a white convertible Mercedes.”
“He could have taken to the dirt roads.” Beigler said, get tin to his feet.
“I don’t give a damn what he’s done. I want him found pronto!”
Beigler nodded and went down to the Operations room.
He sat at a desk, picked up a microphone and began calling the patrol cars. Even as he began to talk, an officer came up and touched him on the shoulder.
“Harry’s calling, Sarg. He’s found the Mercedes.”
Beigler handed over the mike.
“Tell the boys.” he said and went over to another desk. He picked up the telephone receiver lying on the desk.
“Harry?”
“Yes, Sarg. I found the car: White Mercedes. Licence No. 33567. Registered New York on the Old Dixie highway. Bust off side tyre: on side fender smashed. Skid marks across the road. The car finished up against a tree. Must have been travelling fast.”
Beigler rubbed the end of his nose.
“The driver?”
“No one in the car, Sarg.”
“Hold it,” Beigler snapped and swivelled around in his chair. “Hi, Jack, how many cars we got near the Old Dixie highway?”
“Three.” The plotter who kept tabs on all the patrol cars informed him. “Two within twenty miles: the third within ten miles.”
“Tell them to converge on Harry and fast. He’ll want help.” Beigler went on to Harry. “Three cars are on their way. I want a thorough search of the district. The driver can’t be far away. You stay where you are. Bud will give you a description of the guy.” He beckoned to another officer, handed over the telephone receiver and went quickly back to Terrell’s office.
At twenty minutes to three in the afternoon, Val was still sitting by the window and still waiting. She kept telling herself that there was nothing she could do, and she just had to be patient till the police found Chris. But as the time moved on, she became more and more anxious. This lone vigil was beginning to tear her nerves to shreds. She was already asking herself if Chris had met with another accident... this time, was he dead?
Suddenly the telephone bell buzzed. For a moment she just stared at the instrument, then getting to her feet, she ran over and lifted the receiver.
“Mrs. Burnett... this is Captain Terrell.”
“Have... have you found him?”
“Not yet, but we have found the car,” Terrell told her. “It was found on the Old Dixie highway... not often used these days. Had a burst tyre and hit a tree. Looks as if your husband left the car and started to walk. I have four cars out there and our men are searching the district. It’s difficult country: lots of shrub land, orchards, disused barns. He might have gone into some derelict building to rest. I thought I’d let you know what’s happening. Don’t worry. We’ll find him soon.”
“But he might be injured and...”
“I don’t think so. It wasn’t a bad enough smash for that. Just a bent fender. He’s probably a bit dazed and is resting somewhere.”
“Perhaps I had better come. I could get a taxi and...”
“Best for you to remain where you are, Mrs. Burnett.” Terrell said firmly. “Then we’ll know where you are. As soon as we’ve found him. I’ll call again.”
“All right... thank you for calling me.”
“You’re welcome,” Terrell said, a little embarrassed to hear how unsteady her voice sounded. “Shouldn’t be long now,” and he hung up.
Val went over to the window and looked out across the sea. There were a number of people sunning themselves and swimming. It was a gay scene, but there was no gaiety in Val’s heart.
When there was no call from the police headquarters at five o’clock, she began to get desperate.
She waited until twenty minutes past five, then unable to bear the suspense any longer, she put a call through to her father’s New York office.
From babyhood, Val’s relations with her father had been on good, sound terms. She had come to worship this successfull, handsome man. She had always been convinced that he could solve any of her problems once she appealed for help. She had been careful in the past to appeal to him on only the very important things, and they had been few, but each time she had appealed to him, he had dropped everything and had put the whole of his massive energy into solving the problem. She was sure that the reason why he was so impatient with Chris was because Chris presented a problem that defeated him: the first problem to do with Val he hadn’t been able to solve.
After a ten minute wait, she got his office and was told by his secretary that he was in conference.
“This is Mrs. Burnett. Will you please tell my father I must speak to him immediately?”
“Yes, of course, Mrs. Burnett. Will you hold on? It may be a few minutes. I’ll have to send in a note.”
What were a few minutes, Val thought after all these awful never-ending hours?
“I’ll hold on.”
Less than five minutes crawled by before her father’s voice came on the line.
“Val”
“Daddy he’s gone! I’m frantic! After I had spoken to you, I looked out of the window and he had gone.”
“Did he take the car?”
She drew in a deep breath. Her father’s voice was calm. She had expected him to fly in a rage: to tell her he had warned her, but this practical, quiet question had an immediate steadying effect on her.
“Yes. He’s been missing now for over five hours.”
“Have you consulted Dulac?”
“Yes. He got the Chief of Police here. The police have found the Mercedes, but not Chris.”
“Are they still looking?”
“I suppose so... I don’t know.”
“Tell the operator to hold this call and then call the police. I want to know what the position is right now!”
“I’ll do that. Oh, darling, do you think...?”
“Val! Do what I say! Don’t let’s waste time.”
She got the operator to hold the New York call and then put her through to Terrell.
“Have you any news?” she asked when Terrell came on the line. “My father...”
“No news yet, Mrs. Burnett.” Val was quick to hear a worried note in Terrell’s voice. “My men are still looking, but out there, it’s difficult country. I can’t spare more than eight men. Frankly, if we are to find your husband before dark, we’ll have to get help, and this will mean publicity. I was about to call you when you came through. What do you want me to do?”
Val tried to think, then she said unsteadily, “I’ll call you back.” She asked the operator to give her New York again. “They haven’t found him,” she told her father. “I told the Chief of Police I didn’t want any publicity. He says if we are to find Chris before dark, he’ll have to get help: then the newspapers will hear about it.”
“Tell him to get help.” Travers said. “Tell him I expect to find Chris with you when I arrive. I’m flying down right away. I’ll be with you as soon as I possibly can. Don’t worry. Val. I’m on my way.”
“But, darling, aren’t you terribly tied up? Has Newton...?”
“We’re wasting time! I’m coming! Just tell this policeman to get all the help he needs. Stay in your suite. Tell Dulac to handle the press. I’ll fix everything when I arrive. God bless,” and the line went dead.
Val called Terrell.
“My father is coming down. Will you get all the help you need? We must find my husband tonight.”
“Yes, of course,” Terrell said. “I’m sorry about this, Mrs. Burnett, but we’re just not getting the breaks. It’ll be on the radio in half-an-hour. I’ll get the farmers to search all their outbuildings. We’ll check the motels, hospitals and hotels. The press will have to come into it.”