The guess lie finally made was well considered and proved to be accurate.
"You're the one who made that phone call."
"What phone call?"
"Someone called from Harry Baker's room the night he was killed at seven minutes after eight. The police assumed Baker had made the call until they discovered his spine had been shattered, which m::de a call like that impossible. You said Miranda took the money."
"He did."
"But he didn't make the call. I saw him out in front of the hotel," Jeff said. "He stopped to speak to my driver. When I got to the desk it was eight minutes after eight, so Miranda couldn't have been in Baker's room a minute earlier."
"Aye!" The word came from Cordovez accompanied by a slapping sound. The detective had clapped his palm to his forehead.
"What's the matter?"
"Julio Cordovez is an imbecile," the little man said. "Aye, to be so stupid ... I have seen Luis Miranda come out," he said. "1 told you I was waiting there at Senor Baker's instruction. I saw you arrive, and Miranda. But I also saw Miranda come from the hotel a minute earlier and put an envelope in his car. I never think this can be big enough to hold all that money. I do not think at all."
TTou hear that, Lane?" Spencer said. "Satisfied?"
"That Miranda took the money, yes. But you made the call. You were in his room."
"All right," Spencer said resentfully, Til tell you, . . . Sure I was in the room. I knew about the payoff. Grayson had a lot of fun telling me. He said I'd been on his back for a weekly payment and now he was getting clean with Vegas and clearing out and he hoped I starved to death.
"I asked for the assignment at die hotel so I could see
ONE MINUTE PAST EIGHT jgo
what happened. I saw Grayson give the envelope to Baker. I was waiting when Baker came down later and left the key at the desk before he went into the bar, so I stepped up and palmed it. I went upstairs and started looking for the envelope and I hadn't hardly started when I heard somebody at the door. I just had time to duck into the closet when in walks Miranda. I can't figure why he wants the money but that's the way it is."
"Never mind," Jeff said as he remembered the reason Muriel Miranda had given him. "What's the rest of it?"
"He starts going through the drawers and comes up with this gun. He has it in his hand and is trying to pick the lock on the suitcase and Baker walks in on him."
**He'd come back to get his wallet/' Jeff said.
"I guess so. Anyway, Miranda starts to apologize. He says he's in the wrong room, but Baker won't go for it. He don't know Miranda. To Baker the guy's a thief and he moves up and makes a grab for the gun and it goes off. Miranda takes his keys. He opens the suitcase and takes off with the envelope and I don't dare make a move because I know he'll plug me too/'
He swore softly and took a breath. "There I am, maybe going to get mixed up in murder, and I haven't even got the dough. I don't know Baker couldn't make a call, so I take a chance. I dial Grayson's place and luckily I get him. I pretend I'm Baker. I say, 'Miranda's got the money,' and hang up/'
Jeff believed this much as he recalled the session in Pedro Vidal's private office. Grayson had called Miranda before he came to Segumal. But later the lawyer had walked out on him in spite of Grayson's annoyance.
"You figured Grayson would force Miranda to return the money/' he said.
"I knew he would. He had to have the cash -with this hotshot from Vegas in town. But I wouldn't stand a chance
of getting that envelope from Miranda. I had to stir up some trouble and hope. I followed Miranda all the next day/' he said. "And at that you nearly loused it up for me."
"How?"
"You were there, across the street. Miranda had to park a couple of blocks away, but I had a cab. I knew where he must be going so I was ahead of him. Remember when I asked you to have a beer, how I swung you round so your back was to the street? Well, if I hadn't, you'd have seen Miranda go into the building. Boy, was that a break when you turned down that beer?
"The minute you started down the street I went up there. I hoped there'd be trouble that might give me a chance, and there was. I inched the outer door open and Miranda was beating the hell out of Grayson. I ducked behind the door when he came out and when I went in again there was Grayson dead on the floor and there was the envelope on the desk."
"Miranda didn't have any further use for it," Jeff said.
"I don't know about that/* Spencer said. "All I know is, it was there and I grabbed it and got out. I hotfooted it to the office and shoved it under some papers in my desk drawer/*
Jeff snapped on the dome light and examined the envelope. The return address of Grayson Enterprises had been printed in one comer. The top had been sealed and three strips of Scotch tape had been added for security. A hole had been torn in one side, but this had also been taped shut.
Jeff began to work on the tape. It took him quite a while before he had the envelope open but when he looked inside he could see the packets of orange-colored bills neatly contained by paper bill straps. There were eight of these and he picked up one of them, noting the figure on the
ONE MINUTE PAST EIGHT
bill strap and the five-hundred-bolivar bills on top and bottom.
He riffled through that packet, stared, did it again. He sat back, dropping the bills back into the envelope. After a moment he swore softly and Karen Holmes stirred beside him and touched his arm.
nYhat is it, Jeff?" she asked. "Ifs the money, isn't it?"
"Yes," he said. "It's money all right/'
"We are nearly there/' Cordovez said. "We go to Miranda's?*'
"We go to Grayson's."
Cordovez started to turn his head, thought better of it, and resumed his driving, swinging uphill a minute or two later and coming to a stop in the front of the familiar low-slung ranch house.
"You will want me?" Cordovez said.
"We'll all go," Jeff said, and led the way, with Spencer in front of him and Karen by his side.
He did not pay any attention to Cordovez, knowing that he was bringing up the rear. He did not bother to investigate the odd sound that came from behind as the door opened and Dudley Fiske registered his surprise. He saw Fiske move out of the way as Spencer advanced. Karen entered and so did he. Only then did he notice that Fiske had stepped back, that his bespectacled eyes held a startled look. By the time he turned to look behind him Carl Webb had the situation well in hand.
"Into the living-room," he said. "All of you."
Julio Cordovez had stopped just across the threshold. His chin had sagged and his expression was sheepish and embarrassed. His raised hands testified to the gun in his tack, and as Jeff watched, Webb reached under the detective's coat and removed the revolver, He gave Cordovez a forward push and shouldered the door shut.
"O. K, little man/' lie said, "Find a chair somewhere and behave yourself."
21
DIANA GRAYSON had been sitting on the divan and she remained that way as her startled gaze assessed her callers and she began to understand what had happened. Fiske, still watching Webb, backed up and eased down beside her. Karen Holmes took a near-by chair and Jeff stood beside it, conscious now of the gun in his pocket and the envelope in his hand. Only Cordovez seemed utterly disconsolate as he watched Webb empty the shells from his revolver, snap the cylinder in place, and put it down on the table. When he put the shells beside it his hard-jawed face twisted in a grin.
"That makes us even, little man/' he said. "You can collect it later/*
Cordovez remained crushed.
"Forget it," Jeff said.
"Yeah," Webb added. "Let's have a look at that envelope, Lane. Maybe this will turn out to be my lucky day after all."
Jeff passed over the envelope and watched Webb back away to put it beside the empty gun.
"How come you were out
side?" he asked.
"I couldn't figure out where the money could be," Webb
ONE MINUTE PAST EIGHT
said. "I thought I'd hang around here awhile and maybe case the joint. Who had it?"
"Spencer." Jeff glanced at the reporter, who had dropped sideways onto the arm of an overstuffed chair and now presented an expression of acute melancholia. "We picked him up at the airport/'
"Nice going," Webb glanced inside the envelope, grinned, and tucked it under his arm.
"You figure you can get out of the country with that?" Jeff asked.
"I can try. I haven't got too much to lose."
''Hadn't you better count It first?"
"Count It?" Webb eyed him suspiciously. He considered the others in the room. Then, to make certain he had not been the victim of some hoax, lib held the envelope by one end and dumped the contents on the table. He picked up one packet, turned it over to reveal the five-hundred-bolivar note on either side. He inspected the figures on the bill strap.
^ "Eight bundles o£ fifty thousand B's each," he said. "That's fifteen grand U.S. Eight times fifteen is-"
"Take another look."
By that time Webb's irritation was showing and he did not hesitate. He bent the orange-colored top bill back and stared at the blue-green bill beneath. The figure on it was 10. He tried again; then riffled the rest of the money expertly. Satisfied now that he had a packet of ten-bolivar bills except for the five-hundred-bolivar notes on top and bottom, he looked up, his jaw rigid and his mouth ugly.
"What the heH is this?"
He grabbed a second packet and again discovered that it contained ten-bolivar bills except for the two five-hundred bills which covered them.
"Somebody pulled a switch," he said savagely. "Who? Come on, goddam it, who did it?"
Jeff had been watching the others. He saw the looks of surprise on Karen's face, on Cordovez's. Spencer was staring openmouthed and incredulous. Only Fiske and Diana Grayson presented the same stony-eyed calm.
"Ask Fiske," Jeff said. "He ought to know."
Webb advanced a step toward Fiske and the muzzle of the gun came up.
"Where's the rest of It?"
"In the bank." Fiske folded his arms, his bespectacled gaze steady, his voice controlled as he asserted his newfound maleness in front of the woman he loved. "And waving that gun isn't going to get it out, either/' he said. "It's Diana's money, and unless you can crack the bank, it's going to stay there."
Webb's gun was steady and he still looked dangerous. Because Jeff wasn't sure what he might do, he stalled for time.
"How?" he said to Fiske. "How did you manage it? You knew Grayson had the cash. You knew he was going to pay off but—"
"Sure we knew." Fiske glanced at the woman. 'Tour stepbrother was the kind to brag about things like that. He raised the cash and he was pulling out. Diana could have the house for her share but that was all
"He came back from the bank the day before yesterday with eight packs of five-hundred-bolivar bills—a hundred bills in each. He dumped them out on his desk. He wasn't worried about me. He never figured I had any guts—and he was right. He packed the bills in this company envelope, sealed it, fixed it up with Scotch tape, and locked it in his desk. What he forgot was that the key to my desk also fitted his."
He paused, not boasting, not even sounding proud of what he had done. He was simply reciting a tale that he himself found hard to believe even now.
"I don't know where I got the nerve/' he said. "But when I thought about Diana'—he reached out to touch her hand—"and what Arnold was doing to her, I made up my mind I wasn't going to let him get away with it. I sent the girl out after he left, took the envelope and another like it and some Scotch tape, and went back to the bank. I had an account there and I got a lot of ten-B bills. I asked for some of those paper bill straps and then I went to one of those little rooms in the safe-deposit department and locked myself in.
"It took me about ten minutes to fix new bundles with ninety-eight tens and a five-hundred top and bottom. I taped the new envelope just like the old one. I put the rest of the five-hundreds in my safe-deposit box, came back to the office, and locked the envelope in his desk/'
"You went to the hotel that night when Grayson delivered it to see what would happen/' Jeff said,
"Right. I didn't think he'd count it again, not after sealing the envelope that way. I didn't think Baker would either, but I hung around outside looking up at Baker's room and watching the lobby from the pool entrance. If there'd been any trouble I would have known it."
"You knew Webb would count it," Jeff said.
"Sure."
"Naturally," Diana said, speaking for the first time. "But then it wouldn't matter. We thought probably when Mr. Webb found out the debt hadn't been paid he would come looking for Arnold. We knew Arnold couldn't raise that much money again, nor prove that Dudley had taken it. What happened between Arnold and Mr. Webb then was none of our concern."
The way she said it understated the problem and Jeff put it another way. "You mean if Arnold wound up on the side of the road with a couple of slugs in his head it wouldn't bother you."
"Frankly, no."
Jeff shook his head and swallowed. He believed all he had heard and, now that he understood this woman and what she had been through at the hands of his stepbrother, he was not particularly surprised. It was for Fiske and his new-found daring that he felt a certain grudging respect.
"That seems to be it, Webb/' he said.
The man from Las Vegas had lowered his gun but he still looked puzzled. Apparently he had been doing some arithmetic, because he said:
"Christ, there's only about three grand U.S. here. Not even that"
"ItH pay your expenses/* Fiske said, "and give you something for your time. You're welcome to it/* he said. "So why don't you take it and start traveling? There'll be no beef from us, will there, Diana?"
Webb thought it over and considered the odds. Then, proving that as a gambler he could be a good loser, he stuffed the bills back into the envelope and stuck it under his arm.
"It was hardly worth the trip,** he said. "But it's better than nothing and I guess you can't collect from a dead man or crack a bank." He backed to the entrance hall and glanced at Cordovez. "Take it easy with the gun, little man. Don't give me any trouble."
Jeff glanced at Spencer when the door closed. "I guess you didn't count it either."
The reporter still looked dazed. "All I did," he said, "was tear a hole in the envelope. When 1 saw those pretty orange-colored £ve-hundreds it was enough for me. Why should I count it?" he asked plaintively.
"Come on," Jeff said and nodded to Cordovez who had gone over to reload his gun. He touched Karen's arm. "We've got one more stop before Segurnal"
Luis Miranda acted as his own butler that evening. He opened the door himself after he had snapped on the overhead light, and when he recognized his callers, he bowed slightly and stepped back to let them enter. They waited in the hall until he had closed the door and then he led them into a long, impressive-looking room with a stained-beam ceiling and heavy curtains. The rug was thick, the furniture heavy but formal, and the two floor lamps which were lighted still left much of the room in shadow.
"Won't you sit down?" he asked politely.
Jeff thanked him and moved with Karen to a divan that looked comfortable but wasn't. Spencer selected an overstuffed chair and Cordovez took a straight-back at one side.
"Were you expecting us?" Jeff said.
"I was not sure. When the bell rang I thought it might be someone from Segurnal. You see, my wife told me about the riding crop she turned over to you. I was not sure what you would do with it."
*1 can bring you up to date," Jeff said. "It may take quite a while—"
Jeff took a breath and began by speaking of Dan Spencer, the envelope he had taken, and the substitution that Fiske had made in Grayson's office. He explain
ed how Spencer had taken Karen to Macuto, and how he had been picked up at the airport.
He paused here, but when there was no reaction from Miranda he went on to repeat Spencer's story of what had happened the night Harry Baker had been killed. When he finished he asked if Miranda had anything to add.
The lawyer's smile was thin and mirthless and his black eyes were fathomless in the shadows.
"Nothing at this time," he said. "I am an attorney, Mr. Lane, and I prefer to do my talking before a judge."
"You. don't deny you took the money?"
"How can I deny it?"
"You wanted the money so Grayson could not pay off and go back to the States—with your wife. He found out you had it and threatened to go to the police unless you returned it. He did not care who had killed Baker, but he had to have the money. You took it back yesterday afternoon."
"That is quite true,"
"You took the riding crop with you because that was the only way you could settle your account. You didn't care if he had you arrested or not/ 7
"In this country, a man has the right to protect his home and his good name. When the truth was known, no judge would convict me for what I did to Arnold Grayson/'
"Did you intend to kill him?"
"No. I wanted only to show my contempt, to let my wife see him. I could not prevent her leaving but I could perhaps make her understand what manner of man she had chosen." He paused and his voice grew quiet. "I did not know he was dead when I left/' he said. "I did not think I had struck him hard enough. I only meant to—"
The word choked off abruptly and when Jeff glanced up he saw that Miranda's eyes had focused beyond him. Not understanding why, he looked at Cordovez and what he saw was even more disturbing. For the little man was sitting on the edge of his chair, his eyes wide open and staring. Something akin to fear was mirrored there and the sight of it triggered a nervous spasm that sent an icicle racing up Jeffs spine. When he jerked his head round and saw Muriel Miranda standing no more than five feet away, he froze that way, his gaze fastening on the little automatic she held in her hand.
The door through which she had come gave on the rear of the center hall and that part of the room lay in shadow.
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