‘Let’s wait for Joey.’
Twenty minutes later Joey came in and quietly shut the door.
‘He was followed and so was I,’ he said. ‘One of them is in the back garden right now.’
‘Did you see him?’ Elliot asked, getting to his feet.
‘Yes... he’s behind the big shrub at the end of the garden. There’s no place else for him to hide. The other one is in a car at the end of the road.’
‘Okay, Joey... you’ve done a swell job. Now, go to bed.’
‘Cindy in bed?’
‘Yes.’
Joey looked at Vin, hesitated, then moved to the door.
‘Well, then... good night.’
When he had gone, Elliot said softly, ‘Let’s go get him. Maybe we can persuade him to tell us who he is working for.’
Vin’s face lit up with a wolfish grin.
‘If it’s to be told, he’ll tell. How do we take him?’
‘Let’s look.’
The two men went into the dark kitchen and Elliot closed the door. They went to the window and looked out on to the back garden. Although there was a big moon the tall trees surrounding the garden made it dark, but they could make out the outline of the big flowering shrub at the bottom of the garden.
‘I’ll crawl down there and flush him out,’ Elliot said. ‘When you hear me call, come fast.’
Vin nodded. This was the kind of action he liked. He was impressed by the way Elliot slid out through the back door and disappeared into the darkness. He waited, then hearing a sudden commotion, he charged down the lawn and blundered on Elliot, kneeling over a limp body.
‘Okay,’ Elliot said, standing up. ‘I’ve fixed him. He was half-asleep. He’ll be out for ten minutes or so. Help me carry him in.’
Together, they carried the unconscious man into the kitchen, down a short passage and into the living room.
‘Lock the door,’ Elliot said as they dumped the man on the settee.
Vin locked the door and joined Elliot to look down at the man on the settee. He wasn’t much to look at: below average height, small boned, sandy haired, round, boyish face and at a guess, Elliot thought he couldn’t be more than twenty years of age.
‘Not much of a punk, is he?’ Vin said. ‘What did you do... knock him on the nut?’
‘Chop at the back of his neck,’ Elliot said. ‘Hell be all right in a few minutes.’
The name of the man lying on the settee was Jim Folls. He had joined Lessing’s investigators as a learner two months ago. With all Lessing’s top investigators concentrating on Larrimore’s house, Nisson had thought it safe to leave Folls to keep an eye on Elliot’s bungalow. He had told him to do nothing but sit behind the shrub and leave it to Ross, parked in a car at the end of the road, to take care of anything that might happen. Folls’ job was to alert Ross by his transceiver if anyone left the bungalow. But Folls had taken a correspondence course in detective work and was keen. When he saw Vin leave the bungalow he not only alerted Ross, but followed Vin just in case Ross made a box up of it He hadn’t any opinion of Ross’s talents. By doing so he had given himself away to Joey who spotted him sneaking after Vin.
‘He’s coming to the surface now,’ Elliot said. ‘We’ll scare the crap out of him. He doesn’t look as if he has any resistance.’
‘I’ll handle him,’ Vin said viciously. This is right up my alley.’
Folls stirred, moaned, blinked and then half sat up. When he found himself staring into Vin’s hard, vicious face, he shrank back, catching his breath in horror.
Vin caught hold of Folls’ shirtfront, lifted him slightly and shook him.
‘Okay, rat... what were you doing out there?’ he snarled.
Folls’ mind spun like a top. ‘When in a tight corner, his correspondence course had told him, act cool, bluff and show no sign of fear.’
Strictly against this advice, Folls quaked with fear, couldn’t get his brain to work and just gazed with horror at the menacing figure bending over him.
‘Don’t hurt me...’ he finally managed to splutter.
‘Hurt you?’ Vin snarled. ‘I’m going to tear your goddamn arm off and beat you to death with it!’
‘Strictly B movie dialogue,’ Elliot said disapprovingly. ‘We don’t have to do that. What we can do is to put burning cigarettes on his naked feet. It’s an old Japanese custom and it works fine.’
Folls looked as if he were going to faint. Vin let go of him and stepped back. Folls huddled on the settee, staring up at the two men, quivering and wishing he had remained a grocer’s assistant and hadn’t been crazy enough to volunteer to be one of Lessing’s investigators.
‘Yeah,’ Vin said. ‘I dig that. Let’s do it.’ He grabbed hold of one of Folls’ feet and dragged off his shoe and sock. Into Folls’ panic-stricken mind came the heading of Chapter Six of his correspondence course: If subject to torture, remember your loyalty to your boss always comes first. A top class investigator never talks.
He fervently wished the writer of this course was now in his position. He was ready to bet the creep would sing like a canary.
‘I’ll talk,’ he said breathlessly. ‘I’ll tell you anything you want to know!’
Vin sneered.
‘Yeah? Well, let’s try a little burning first’ He took a cigarette from his pack and lit it.
‘Hold it,’ Elliot said. ‘I’ll talk to him.’
‘Just let me mash this on his foot,’ Vin said. ‘It’ll loosen him up.’
‘Keep smoking. You can have a go at him if he doesn’t come clean. There’s no point in having to carry this punk out of here. Once you start on him he won’t be able to walk for weeks.’
Folls shuddered.
‘Why are you tailing us?’ Elliot demanded.
Folls had been warned by Nisson that if the suspects got an idea that they were being watched not only would he lose his job but Nisson would also lose his, but Folls was too scared by now to think up a convincing lie and seeing Vin was itching to burn him, he said in a quavering voice, ‘I was only acting on instructions.’
‘Who are you working for?’
‘The Lessing Agency.’
Elliot knew of the agency which was the best and the most expensive in the City.
‘What are your instructions?’
‘Just to watch you all... see where you go... what you do and make reports.’
‘Why?’
Folls licked his dry lips and hesitated.
‘Let me just mash this cigarette on his foot,’ Vin said. ‘Just once. He needs loosening up,’ and he started forward.
Folls’ eyes popped wide open.
‘No... no! They think you’re going to break into Mr. Larrimore’s house. They plan to catch you as you come out.’
‘Who are they?’ Elliot asked.
‘Mr. Lessing and his investigators.’
‘How many of them are on the job?’
‘Six now... before they found where you are living, they had about thirty men looking for you.’
Elliot and Vin exchanged looks.
‘Are you anything to do with the C.I.A.?’ Elliot asked.
‘The C.I.A.? No, sir. I just work for Mr. Lessing.’
‘Who hired Lessing to watch us?’
‘I don’t know.’ Then seeing Vin’s menacing move forward, he repeated in a shriller voice, ‘I swear I don’t know!’
Elliot decided he was telling the truth. Why should a punk like this be told the names of Lessing’s clients? ‘Thirty men looking for you,’ Folls had said. At Lessing’s rates an operation on this scale would cost a lot of money.
‘Who’s Lessing’s most important client? You must know that,’ Elliot said.
‘I don’t know. We’re never told anything about anyone who hires us. I’d tell you if I knew.’
With an impatient snort, Vin flicked hot ash on Folls’ bare foot. Folls reared up as if he had been touched by a red-hot iron.