When she had gone, after kissing him, Bradey wrote a note, put it in an envelope and addressed it to Mr Pierre Duvine. He took the note down to the reception clerk.
“Please give this to Mr Duvine when he arrives.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Still watched by Sergas Holtz, Bradey returned to his room, took a chair out on to the balcony where he could watch arrivals and sat down to wait.
Two maids came into his room. He told them to go ahead, explaining he was waiting for friends. They stripped the bed and did the bathroom for the afternoon arrival of Mr John Willis.
At 11.15, Bradey saw the Duvines and the Lepskis arrive. He came in from the balcony, lit a cigarette and began to pace up and down. The note he had left with the reception clerk told Duvine Bradey’s room number and urged him to come to him at once.
Sergas Holtz watched the Duvines and the Lepskis book in. He watched the luggage porter put four suitcases and a blue vanity box on his trolley and wheel it away. He watched the Duvines and the Lepskis with the reception clerk enter the elevator. He nodded to himself. Very soon now, his long boring wait would be over, and there would be action.
At their doors, Duvine said, “Suppose we all meet in the lobby in half an hour, Tom? We’ll take a look at the town.”
“Fine with us,” Lepski said. “This is some hotel. What’s the food like?”
“You won’t starve,” Duvine said, and steered Claudette into their room and closed the door. “Bradey’s here. He wants to see me at once. His room’s right by ours.”
“Be careful, my treasure,” Claudette said, a little anxiously. “Lu is very tricky.”
Duvine kissed her.
“Then so am I. I’ll be right back.”
Bradey paused in his pacing as a tap came on his door. He went to the door and opened it.
“Pierre!” he exclaimed. “Marvellous to see you!” and he grabbed Duvine’s hand and pulled him into the room. “You’re looking terrific!”
Not to be out-done, Duvine pumped Bradey’s hand and exclaimed, “You don’t look a day older! My God! It’s good to see you again.”
Both these two were expert con-men. They appeared to exude friendship and genuine pleasure to see each other again.
“Tell me,” Bradey said, still holding Duvine’s hand. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Any problems?”
“None, except the Lepskis are driving us crazy.”
“The customs?”
“Went like a dream.”
Bradey beamed.
“I knew I could rely on you. Now the switch.”
“Yes.” Duvine made a little grimace. “That will need handling, but I can do it. Have you the duplicate box?”
“Of course.” Bradey produced the vanity box. “It’s empty, Pierre. It won’t take you more than a few minutes to transfer Mrs Lepski’s junk, then come to the Eden hotel, Zurich, where I will be waiting with twenty thousand beautiful Swiss francs for you.”
Duvine rubbed his hands.
“Marvellous!”
“How will you get rid of the Lepskis?”
“I will tell them my mother is ill and we have to return to Paris. Leave that to me. God! Won’t we be glad to see the last of them!”
“Right. I must get off.” Bradey gave Duvine his wide, false smile. “You have done a swell job. I’m going to insist Ed pays you another ten thousand.”
“Why, thanks, Lu! That’s terrific!”
The two men shook hands.
“See you in Zurich... maybe two days?”
“The moment I’ve done the switch, I will be with you. It depends on the Lepskis. They cling to me like glue. Yes, two days, could be three. I’ll call you at the Eden.”
“Perfect. Good luck, Pierre,” and with more hand shaking, more friendly smiles, Bradey hurried to the elevator to find Maggie.
Duvine picked up the vanity box, looked to see if the corridor was deserted, then quickly went to his room.
When Claudette saw the vanity box, her face lit up.
“All right, my treasure?”
“No problems. He’s even promised to give us another ten thousand.” Duvine gave a happy laugh. “He hasn’t the faintest idea that we are going to double-cross him. Imagine! A miserable thirty thousand Swiss francs when we can get at least four million dollars!”
Claudette threw herself into his arms, and they began to waltz around the room.
Bradey found Maggie sitting in a sun-lounging chair engrossed in the Robbins novel.
“Come on, chick,” he said. “We’re on our way.”
Maggie was lost to the world, her eyes popping as she read on.
Bradey snatched the book from her.
“Come on!”
She blinked up at him.
“Oh, Lu, do let me finish what’s happening. He has her on this bed...”
“Never mind! We’re on our way!”
He bustled her across the road and to where his car was waiting.
As he drove towards Villeneuve, he once again went over the instructions: how to get to the Zurich autoroute, the name of the hotel, and for her to wait for him.
She parted with him a little tearfully when they arrived at Villeneuve, but she was now so happy with her new watch and the money he had given her and the thought of finishing the Robbins novel, she controlled her emotion. She finally drove away to the autoroute to Zurich after Bradey had assured her a dozen times he would join her in not more than a week.
Bradey had already arranged to hire a Golf VW from a local garage. He walked to collect it, then drove to a commune swimming pool and rented a cabin. The pool was fairly full of young people on a late vacation. None of them paid him any attention. He took his suitcase into the cabin, locked the door and set about transforming himself into a wizened, smartly dressed old man who could have been a retired banker or an attorney. It wasn’t until 01.30 that he returned to the Montreux Palace hotel and booked in as Mr John Willis.
Sergas Holtz who was still sitting in the lounge would have been completly fooled, so brilliant was Bradey’s disguise, had Bradey not made the error of using the same suitcase as he had used when booking in under the name of Lewis Schultz. Holtz, trained to observe, recognised the suitcase as the porter carried it to the elevator, followed by Bradey. Holtz remembered his uncle had warned him that Lu Bradey was a master of disguise. Holtz gave a satisfied little nod. Any time now would be the time for action. He had seen the Duvines and the Lepskis leave the hotel. He went into the bar for a quick snack.
Up in his room, Bradey unpacked his bag. He took out a Smith & Wesson .38 pistol.
Following Ed Haddon’s instructions, he had stopped at Geneva and had driven to the address Haddon had given him.
A tall, fat man in his early thirties, and apparently covered with coarse black hair which grew from his face like a wasps’ nest and sprouted out of his shirt collar, was happy to sell him a gun as soon as Bradey mentioned Haddon’s name.
Bradey loathed firearms. He loathed any form of violence. He stressed that the gun must be unloaded and watched the tall, fat man empty out the cylinders. Satisfied the gun was non-lethal, Bradey put it in his pocket and paid.
Now, he sat on the bed and examined the gun uneasily. He hoped he wouldn’t have to threaten Duvine. If he did, he didn’t think he would be very convincing. Duvine had seemed so friendly. It was hard to believe he was thinking of double crossing him. Haddon was suspicious of everyone, but Bradey decided he must take no chances with Duvine. A million dollars was a million dollars. He then thought of Maggie. Maybe it had been a little rash to have promised to marry her. Bradey sighed. He couldn’t see himself settling down with Maggie for years. She was the type who would lose her bloom of youth early. Well, there was time. He first had to get the icon. He put the gun back in his suitcase, then feeling hungry, he went down to lunch.