Looking back, I can now see that the seeds of this nightmare that happened to me were sown some four years ago: seeds that finally produced blackmail, two murders and a suicide.

Four years ago, I was a badly paid service mechanic, working for Business Equipment & Electronics. My father, who was their head accountant, got me the job. When I left school, he had suggested I should study electronics, and sent me to the local university where I got a Master’s degree. While I was still at school, he also suggested I learned to play golf.

‘More business is done on a golf course, Larry,’ he said, ‘than in a boardroom.’

I discovered I was a natural golfer, and later I became a fanatic about electronics.

All the week, including Saturdays, I humped a heavy tool bag, in the evenings I went to night school and studied electronics. Sundays, I played golf.

I had this arrangement with the golf pro at Creswell golf course that I could play a round for free every Sunday morning at 08.30, and in return, I would look after his shop until lunchtime. It was an arrangement that suited us both as I couldn’t afford to become a member, and he could spend the morning out on the course.

On this hot June morning, I decided to concentrate on my putting, and not play a round. Looking back, this was an act of fate. If I hadn’t decided to sharpen up my putting, I wouldn’t have met Farrell Brannigan, and this nightmare wouldn’t have happened to me.

I had just rolled in a twenty footer when a gravelly voice said, ‘That’s one hell of a putt.’

I turned round.

Standing on the edge of the green was a vast man around sixty years of age. He was over six feet tall, and nearly as wide. He had all the trappings of the very rich: his golfing outfit screamed money. His fleshy, suntanned face, his aggressive chin, his china-blue eyes told me he was important people.

‘Can you repeat that, son?’

I stepped back, put another ball down, took a look at the cup, now thirty feet away, then giving the ball plenty of top spin, I sent it on its way. Knowing the lie of the green backwards, I knew the ball would drop, and it did.

‘Jesus! Mind if I try?’

‘Go ahead, sir.’

He fiddled around as most bad golfers do, then aiming at the cup, he stabbed, and was five feet short.

‘I’m doing that all the time,’ he moaned. ‘There must be some trick in this.’

‘There is, sir.’

He regarded me.

‘Okay, you tell me. What do I do wrong?’

‘For one thing, your putter is too short for you. For another, you looked up when you struck the ball. For another, you were standing all wrong.’

‘My putter too short? Damn it! I’ve played...’ He paused, then went on. ‘What sort of putter should I use?’

‘I can fix that for you, sir.’

‘Go ahead and fix it.’

I took him to the pro’s shop, opened up and sold him a putter that was right for his height. Then I took him back to the putting green and explained how to read the lie of the green. This was something he knew nothing about. After an hour, I was getting him to roll them in in three putts instead of five. He was delighted.

‘I have another problem, son,’ he said. ‘You just might fix it. I have a hell of a hook.’

‘Suppose we go over to the driving range, sir?’

We went. He teed up, and just as he was shaping for his swing, I stopped him. I got his feet right and his overlap grip turned. He drove a nice one down the middle.

‘Just keep your feet like that, and your grip as you have it now, sir, and you’ll be fine.’

He hit three balls down the middle, then he beamed at me.

‘I appreciate this, son,’ he said. ‘I have a match on this morning. I guess you are a lifesaver.’

‘Glad to be of help, sir. I’ll get back to my putting.’

‘Hold it. What’s your name?’

‘Larry Lucas.’

‘Glad to know you.’ He thrust out his big hand. ‘Farrell Brannigan.’

I did a double take. Farrell Brannigan’s name was as well-known as Gerald Ford’s. He was the President of the Californian National Bank with branches through the state.

‘My privilege, sir,’ I said, as we shook hands.

He grinned, obviously pleased his name had impressed me.

‘What’s your line, Larry?’

‘I’m a service mechanic with B. E. & C.’

‘Is that right?’ He regarded me. ‘What do you know about computers?’

‘I have a Master’s Degree.’

‘University?’

I told him the name of my university.

‘Okay, Larry. Go back to your putting. Come and see me at the bank at ten tomorrow.’ Then nodding, he picked up his driver and moved back to his tee.

Four years ago, this had been my great moment. I had a feeling that Brannigan was going to do something for me.

Now, looking back, I can see I was taking my first step into this nightmare.

On Monday morning at exactly 10.00, I was shown into a vast office with a vast desk between two vast windows with a panoramic view of the city.

Farrell Brannigan was rolling a golf ball along the floor, using the putter I had sold him.

‘Come on in, Larry,’ he said. ‘I won that match, thanks to you.’

‘Congratulations, sir.’

‘This a fine putter you sold me.’ Putting the putter down, he moved to his desk, waved me to a chair and sat down. ‘How are you fixed for next Sunday? How about playing a round with me? I’d like your ideas about my approach shots. How about it?’

I could scarcely believe my ears: to play golf with Farrell Brannigan!

‘That would be fine with me, sir.’

‘Okay. The wife likes me home for lunch. Suppose we meet at the club at eight o’clock. Right?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I talked to your Dean this morning. What the hell are you doing wasting your time as a service mechanic? According to the Dean, you’re a top-class computer and electronic engineer: the best student he’s ever had.’

‘My father wanted me to stay with B. E. & C. He had a theory that it was better to be a big fish in a small pond than a little fish in a big pond. My father died a few months ago. I am now making plans. I.B.M. have made me an offer.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-seven, sir.’

‘What do you earn?’

I told him.

‘Forget I.B.M.,’ he said. ‘With your qualifications, son, you are handling your future career all wrong, but never mind. I’m going to fix that.’ He paused to light a cigar, then went on. ‘You know something, Larry? When you get to my position, it’s fun to play God. From time to time, I do it when someone does something for me. I haven’t yet made a mistake, and I don’t think I’m going to make a mistake with you. Ever heard of Sharnville?’

‘Yes, sir.’ My heart was beginning to thump. ‘It’s an up and coming town half-way between here and ’Frisco.’

‘Right. We are opening a bank there. This bank is going to be something special as Sharnville, in a few years, is going to come on the map in a big way. I want the latest computers, the latest business machines and calculators that money can buy. Do you think you could outfit the bank?’

My heart was now slamming against my ribs.

‘Yes, sir,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He nodded.

‘I’m going to give you the chance to do it. You have a little time. The bank doesn’t open for six months. I’ll give you three weeks to submit ideas and estimates. If they are not what I want, I’ll try elsewhere. How about it?’

‘That’s fine with me, sir.’

He dug a big thumb into a press button and his secretary came in.

‘Take Mr. Lucas to Bill,’ Brannigan said. He looked at me. ‘Bill Dixon is my architect. You and he will work together.’ As I got to my feet, he went on, ‘See you Sunday,’ and with a wide grin, a wave of his hand, he dismissed me.

‘That’s it,’ Glenda said, ‘and thank you. I hope I haven’t taken up too much of your time.’

She had arrived at my office at 18.00 and it was now 19.35. She had taken shots of our showroom, our small factory, with close-ups of our four engineers who smirked happily while they worked at their benches. She had taken some twenty shots of me at my desk. She had been efficient and impersonal, but now, as she put her Nikon into her camera bag, she relaxed and gave me that friendly, dazzling smile.

‘No problem,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘I had cleared my desk before you came. I hope you have what you want.’

‘Not quite: I would like some personal information about you, but perhaps you would like to set up another date. I understand Farrell Brannigan gave you your start. I would like to hear about that. It would make a great story.’

‘Suppose we go into that over dinner?’ I said. There was something about her that hooked me. I wanted to keep her with me as long as I could. ‘There’s a place down the street that serves a decent meal.’

She nodded.

‘Let’s do that.’

After our game of golf, and after she had driven away, I had had her on my mind. Usually, I had a snack at the clubhouse and mixed with the other members, but this time, I wasn’t in the mood, and had driven down to the beach, had a swim, then lay alone in the sun and had thought about her.

There is some mysterious chemistry that no one has yet explained that takes place when a certain man and a certain woman meet. Some call it love at first sight. Whatever it is, it is a sudden fusion, and being an electronics man, I saw it as getting the right electrical connection and turning on a switch.

This had now happened to me. Glenda Marsh, at first sight, had become the woman I really wanted. Fate, destiny, call it what you like, had brought us together, and the switch, for me, had been turned on.

But had the turned-on switch done anything for her? Maybe her chemistry hadn’t responded as mine had. This was something I had to find out.

I had walked with her to the Mirabeau restaurant where I often dined. She was one of those rare women who didn’t dither when studying a menu. She took one brief glance, then said she would like the clam chowder. It was a good choice. I went along with it.

‘Now tell me about yourself,’ she said, resting her elbows on the table and regarding me with those big green eyes.

So I told her about my father, my golf, B. E. & C. and Brannigan. We had nearly finished the meal by the time I had finished my life story.

‘Are you married, Mr. Lucas?’

‘No.’ I smiled at her. ‘But as soon as the pressure is off, I want to get married.’

‘Any particular girl?’

‘There is a vague chance I have found one, but I’m not sure yet.’

She regarded me, then looked away. Her lips curled into a little smile. I had the idea she got the message.

While I was ordering coffee she lit a cigarette, and when the waiter had gone, she said, ‘A real success story, Mr. Lucas. Congratulations.’

‘It happens. I had the knowledge, but then I had luck.’

‘But you had to have the knowledge. Tell me... is it a fact that the Sharnville bank is the safest bank in the world or is that just a publicity stunt?’

‘It is the safest bank in the world. I should know: I installed all the security equipment... it is no publicity stunt.’

She looked impressed.

‘It would make a great news story. Tell me about it.’

‘Sorry, that’s not for me to talk about. Before I got the job, I had to sign a paper not to talk. If you want the story, talk to Alec Manson who runs the bank, but I don’t think he will tell you much. The bank’s security is top secret.’

‘Well, I can try.’ She smiled her dazzling smile. ‘Would you give me an introduction to Mr. Manson?’

‘No problem. Now, tell me something about yourself. Where are you staying in Sharnville, and how long will you be here?’

‘At the Excelsior, and I’ll be here at least a month.’

‘Do you like the Excelsior?’

She grimaced.

‘Does anyone like staying in a hotel?’

‘Would a two-room furnished apartment with a kitchen interest you?’

Her green eyes sparkled.

‘Would it not! That would be marvellous!’

‘Then I can fix it for you. There’s an empty apartment in my complex. I can fix it for you to have for a month.’ I signalled for the cheque. ‘Like to see it?’

‘Why, thank you, Mr. Lucas.’

I looked directly into the big green eyes.

‘Make it Larry, Glenda,’ I said. ‘We are going to be neighbours. My apartment is across the corridor.’

The following morning, she had moved into the apartment. I called Alec Manson and told him about her, explaining she was doing a reportage on Sharnville for The Investor, and she would like to talk to him.

In his dry, clipped voice, he said she could come any time, so I called Glenda and told her to go ahead, and if she had nothing better to do, why not let us have dinner together this evening?

This time I took her to a seafood restaurant. While driving her along the coast road, I asked how she had made out with Manson.

She raised her slim hands and let them drop, in her lap.

‘Like interviewing an oyster. He allowed me to shoot the outside of the bank and the lobby. When I asked him about the security, he stayed dumb. I have no story, Larry.’

‘I warned you. After all, Glenda, if he let you into the secrets of the bank security, it would no longer be the safest bank in the world, would it?’

She laughed.

‘You have a point, but what a story!’ She looked at me. ‘But you can tell me.’

‘I could, but I won’t. Brannigan has plans to open four more banks along the coast, and I get the security job. I want that contract. Brannigan is a very smart cookie. He would know at once I had been talking. Sorry, Glenda.’

‘Oh, well!’ She shrugged.

We arrived at the restaurant and settled at our table. After consulting the menu, we both settled for lobsters.

While waiting, she asked. ‘What is crime like in Sharnville?’

‘That’s something I know nothing about. You talk to Sheriff Joe Thomson. He’ll be glad to give you a rundown. I play golf with him from time to time. He’s a smart cookie.’

While we were eating, I thought it time to get to know something about her personal life.

‘You’ve quizzed me, Glenda. It’s my turn. Are you married?’ I asked this question with trepidation.

‘Yes... it didn’t work out.’ She pulled a little face. ‘I’m a working woman. He was an auto salesman. He just sat around and did nothing. I made a mistake.’

‘We all make them.’

‘I guess.’ She looked at me and smiled. ‘But I’ll confess, I get tired sometimes of this job: it’s all race and chase: living in hotels, motels. It pays off, but...’ She shrugged.

‘Ever thought of trying marriage again?’ I asked, looking directly at her.

She stiffened, and those green eyes lost their sparkle.

‘There is nothing to stop anyone thinking, is there?’ She pushed her plate aside. ‘That was good.’

‘Coffee?’

She nodded.

There was a long pause as we both regarded the ocean, shimmering in the moonlight. I longed to rush it, but knew it would be a mistake. I wanted to tell her I loved her. I wanted to tell her I had lots of money, could give her a home and wanted her to be with me for the rest of my life, but I told myself I had to wait to get some sign from her. I had to be patient. I had a month.

Back at my complex, we rode up in the elevator to the tenth floor, and we paused outside her door.

‘Thank you, Larry. It has been a lovely evening.’

‘Let’s do it again tomorrow night.’

She regarded me thoughtfully, then shook her head.

‘No. Come and have dinner with me. I’ll cook for you.’

Then she smiled. ‘It’s odd how people meet.’ She put her hand on my aim. ‘Tomorrow at eight,’ and leaning forward, she brushed my cheek with her lips, smiled and disappeared into her apartment, gently shutting the door.

I stood for a long moment, staring at the door, knowing now our chemistry had fused, and scarcely believing it.

As I opened the door of my apartment and walked unsteadily into my living-room, I saw him, sitting in my favourite armchair, his legs crossed, his hands resting in his lap, relaxed and at ease.

He could have been anything from fifty-five to sixty-five years of age. His thick, snow-white hair was immaculate. Everything about him was immaculate: his charcoal-grey suit, his white silk shirt, the Pierre Cardin tie and the glistening black shoes. His face could have been chiselled out of teak: nut brown, a thin beaky nose, a slit for a mouth, big slate-grey eyes and flat pointed ears.

The shock of finding the squat man dead in my trunk had stunned me. I felt as if I were experiencing a horrible nightmare, and in a few moments, I would wake up and find, to my utter relief, all this had never happened, and it was just another Sunday morning.

This man, sitting facing me, was just an addition to this nightmare. I closed the door and leaned against it and stared at him.

‘I found your door open,’ he said. ‘Excuse me for taking the liberty. The name is Edwin Klaus: K-l-a-u-s.’

I felt a trickle of sweat run down my aching cheek. This was no nightmare: this was for real.

‘What do you want?’

His slate-grey eyes, as expressionless as blobs of ice, regarded me.

‘I want to help you.’ He waved to a chair. ‘I can see you are suffering. I told Benny to be careful.’ He lifted small, brown hands in a gesture of resignation. ‘He doesn’t know his own strength. Do sit down, Mr. Lucas.’

Because my head began to ache again, and my legs felt shaky, I moved to the chair and sat down.

‘You have a problem, Mr. Lucas. It would seem you too don’t know your own strength,’ Klaus said, in his soft, gentle voice. ‘But your problem can be arranged if you care to accept my help.’

‘Who are you?’ I asked, staring at him.

‘We won’t go into that for the moment. The problem is Alex Marsh, whom you murdered. What are you going to do about the body, Mr. Lucas?’

I closed my eyes. The scene came back to me. I had wanted to kill him. I remembered smashing my fists down on his up-turned face. I was lifting my fists to hit him again when I received a blow on my head. I had hurt him: probably broken his nose, but I was sure I hadn’t killed him. If only this pain in my head would go away so I could think clearly!

‘I didn’t kill him,’ I said, meeting Edwin Klaus’s slate-grey eyes.

‘That is for die judge and jury to decide, isn’t it, Mr. Lucas?’

I got to my feet and, moving unsteadily, I went into the bathroom and swallowed four Aspro tablets. I ran the water, then picking up a sponge, I bathed my face. I was now beginning to think more clearly.

I didn’t know who this immaculately dressed man was, but my instincts told me he was a blackmailer. I put my hands on the toilet basin and forced myself to stand upright. I stared at my reflection in the mirror above the toilet basin. I stared at a stranger: someone remotely resembling myself, but with a puffy bruised cheek and wild, frightened eyes. I remained staring for some five minutes, and then the pills began to work, and the pain in my head began to recede to a dull throb.

Alex Marsh! So the squat man had been Glenda’s husband!

Who was this man, sitting in my living-room so quiet, so relaxed, offering to help me?

I waited, still holding on to the toilet basin, still staring at myself in the mirror until the throb in my head became bearable. He had asked me what I was going to do with the body in the trunk of my car.

What was I going to do?

My immediate thought was to call Sheriff Thomson and let him handle the whole thing. If I did, would he, would anyone, believe my story? Suppose, by the merest chance, I was believed, I knew I would be finished in Sharnville. I would have to admit I had been making love to a married woman when her husband surprised us. Would they believe someone — who? — had hit me over the head while her husband and I were fighting?

I thought of the body, screwed up in the trunk of my car. For a moment I had the wild idea of driving the car to some isolated spot, dragging the body out and burying it. A wild idea! This, I knew, I couldn’t do.

Your problem can be arranged if you care to accept my help.

Why should this man offer to help me? What was in it for him? This I had to find out.

Now in more control of myself, I returned to the living-room.

Edwin Klaus was still sitting in my favourite armchair, relaxed, his legs crossed, his hands in his lap. He exuded infinite patience.

‘Feeling better, Mr. Lucas?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want to hurry you, but, no doubt, you have heard of rigor mortis. In an hour or so, Marsh will be very difficult to handle.’

I felt a cold shudder run through me. This, I hadn’t thought of, but now began to think about it. Marsh had been forced into my trunk, curled up. His body could jam when he stiffened. The thought turned me sick.

I sat down, facing him.

‘I didn’t kill him,’ I said. ‘While we were fighting, someone hit me over the head. That someone must have killed him while I was unconscious.’

‘Mr. Lucas,’ he said patiently, ‘at the moment, it doesn’t matter who killed him. The fact is he is in the trunk of your car, and he can’t remain there much longer. Do you want my help or don’t you?’

‘Who are you? Why are you offering to help me?’

‘The name is Klaus: K-l-a-u-s.’ He spelt it out. ‘The reason why I am prepared to help you is that I have followed your career, and find it remarkable how well you have succeeded. I think it would be a tremendous pity for you to lose all you have built up and have worked for.’

‘Don’t tell me you are offering this help for nothing. What do you get in return?’

He lifted his small brown hands and let them drop back in his lap.

‘Something, of course, but this we can discuss later. The immediate problem is the disposal of Marsh’s body. I have an organization that is equipped to handle this kind of emergency. However, you may not wish to accept my help. You can either call the Sheriff and face a certain murder charge or you can attempt to dispose of the body yourself. You have the freedom of choice, Mr. Lucas. I assure you if you refuse my help, you will hear nothing further from me. It is entirely up to you.’

‘What do you want from me? I must know!’

‘A service, but I am not prepared to discuss this until later.’

‘I must know! Do you imagine I’m that stupid I would do a deal with you without knowing what the deal is?’ I said, raising my voice.

Again he lifted his small brown hands.

‘Then I take it you don’t want my help.’ He got to his feet. ‘Then I will leave you. You had better hurry, Mr. Lucas. Very soon the body will be impossible to handle. Don’t forget to buy a spade, though where you will get one on Sunday will be your problem. I suggest the safest way for you is to bury him at Ferris Point, but you must hurry. I wish you luck,’ and he moved to the door.

My mind worked swiftly. While he was moving to the door, I visualized all the grinding hours of work to build Better Electronics. I thought of my position as one of the leading citizens of Sharnville. I thought of Bill Dixon. Then I thought of driving my car to Ferris Point, digging a grave, if I could find a spade, dragging the body from the trunk and dragging it to the grave. The very thought of touching that squat, blood-soaked body sent a sick chill through me.

I assure you if you refuse my help, and you attempt to dispose of the body yourself, you will hear nothing further from me.

It was just possible I would hear nothing further from him, but he had only to put an anonymous telephone call through to the Sheriff to fix me.

A service?

What did that mean? By now I was in such a turmoil, I didn’t care.

‘Wait,’ I said feverishly.

I had to get rid of the body! I had to have his help! Once rid of the body, I would be in a better position to deal with this man. Once I knew what service he wanted, I would be able to think of a way to outwit him. I had to have time to think!

He paused at the door and looked at me.

‘I agree. I need your help,’ I said, my voice husky.

‘Very wise, Mr. Lucas.’ He moved back to his chair and sat down. ‘I have three trustworthy men who will handle it for you, but you must go with them. You must see what they intend to do so you are convinced that, once buried, the body will never be discovered. If you will go down to the garage, you will find them waiting. The whole operation can be over in an hour or so. I suggest you go now. The longer you wait, the more difficult the operation.’

I stared at him.

‘And when do you pick up the price tag?’

‘There’s plenty of time for that. Let us get this problem solved first. Go along, Mr. Lucas.’ He glanced at his strap watch. ‘I am already late for an appointment.’

Bracing myself, I left him and rode down in the elevator to the garage. The time now was 10.15: still a safe hour. The people who lived in my complex seldom stirred into life on Sunday before midday.

As I came out of the elevator, I saw them, standing by my car.

Three men.

As I approached them, I looked searchingly at them.

The man who caught my attention was leaning against the driver’s door. He was tall, lean, around twenty-five years of age. He had blond hair and a beard. He had minor movie star good looks. His eyes, exuding a cocky confidence, were sky blue. He looked, from his heavy tan, as if he spent days idling in the sun, most certainly ogling the girls. He had on a green singlet and tight white jeans.

The second man was standing at the head of the car. He was built like a bar bouncer: dark, hairy, a flat face, little eyes and long black sideboards. As a muscle man for a B movie he was perfect. He wore a shabby leather windcheater and black slacks.

The third man was a Negro. He was so tall, he was resting his elbows on the roof of the car. His massive shoulder muscles rippled under a white T-shirt. He reminded me of Joe Louis, when in his prime.

The bearded man came forward with a cocky, cheerful grin.

‘I’m Harry, Mr. Lucas,’ he said. ‘That’s Benny,’ he jerked his thumb at die second man. ‘And that’s Joe.’

The Negro’s face split into a dazzling grin, but the man called Benny just stared sullenly at me.

Benny! The man who had hit me over the head!

‘Let’s go, Mr. Lucas,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll drive. You just take it easy.’

The other two got into the back seats while Harry went around and opened the passenger’s door for me. I wasn’t fooled for one moment by this politeness. I felt the menace of these three men as one feels the oppressive atmosphere of an approaching thunderstorm.

I got in the car. Harry went around and slid under the driving wheel and drove the car up the ramp and on to Sharnville’s main street.

Church bells were ringing and people were on the move. Harry swung the car down a side street, and keeping to the side streets, he headed for the highway. He drove just below the speed limit and drove well.

Joe, sitting behind me, began to play a harmonica. The tune he produced was sad and forlorn. It could have been a Negro spiritual.

As we headed towards Ferris Point, my mind was busy. I had an instinctive idea that Benny, after knocking me over the head, had been the one who had murdered Marsh. He had that sullen, brutal look of a man who would kill without thought or feeling. My head still ached, and my face hurt me. My mind wasn’t clear enough yet to form a complete picture of what was happening to me. I felt as if I were still in a nightmare, but it was gradually dawning on me I was now in a deadly trap. By allowing Klaus to get rid of Marsh’s body, I was delivering myself into his hands.

Harry swung the car off the highway and drove down the sandy road to Ferris Point. He pulled up under the shade of a clump of palm trees.

‘Wait a moment, Mr. Lucas,’ he said. ‘I’ll take a look-see.’

He got out of the car and walked around the high-growing sand shrubs.

Joe stopped playing his harmonica. He and Benny got out of the car. I sat still and waited. After a few minutes, Harry returned.

‘It’s okay. Let’s go, Mr. Lucas. We have some digging to do.’

Joe opened the trunk of my car and produced two trenching tools. Leaving Benny by the car, Harry, Joe and I walked into the jungle of shrubs.

In sight of the deserted beach and the sea, Harry stopped.

‘How about here, Mr. Lucas? We’ll put him in deep.’

I surveyed the place, looked around, and then down at | the bare patch of sand, surrounded by shrubs.

‘Yes,’ I heard myself say.

Joe began to dig. It was heavy work. The sand kept falling back into the hole he was making. The sun, by now, was hot.

I stood there in my nightmare, waiting.

When Joe had made a seven-foot trench of about a foot deep, Harry, using his trenching tool, began to clear the sand Joe was throwing up. The work moved faster.

The two men were sweating. I watched Joe’s muscles rippling, and the sweat dripping from Harry’s beard. The whole scene was so unreal, I could have been doing a moonwalk.

When the trench was some five feet deep, Harry said, ‘Okay, Joe. Hold it.’

Joe grinned, wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand and climbed out of the trench.

Harry turned and looked at me.

‘Well now, Mr. Lucas, this is your funeral, isn’t it? We want another foot deeper.’ He offered me his trenching tool. ‘Do some digging!’ The sudden vicious snap in his voice told me I had no alternative. I took off my jacket, took the trenching tool and stepped down into the trench.

Harry and Joe moved back.

Still in this nightmare, I began to dig. I had only dug for two or three minutes, when Harry said, ‘Fine, Mr. Lucas. Joe’ll finish it. He digs digging,’ and he laughed. He reached down, caught hold of my wrist and pulled me out of the trench. Joe took my place, and in a few minutes, the trench was some six feet deep.

‘Do you think that’s okay, Mr. Lucas?’ Harry asked. ‘I can’t see any child or dog digging down that far. Once he’s in there, he’s in for good. What do you say?’

I draped my jacket over my shoulders, sweat streaming down my aching face.

‘Yes.’

Harry looked at Joe.

‘Go get him.’

The Negro ran off towards the car.

I waited.

Harry, holding the trenching tool by its blade, stared at the beach and the sea.

‘A nice spot,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t mind being buried here. Better than those crummy cemeteries with their crosses and flowers.’

I didn’t say anything.

Joe and Benny appeared, carrying the body of the squat man. I turned away, feeling sick. I heard a thump as they dropped the body by the open grave.

‘Mr. Lucas, just take a look. Make sure, huh?’ Harry said.

I turned.

Joe and Benny moved back. There was the squat man, bloody, and in death, lying on the sand.

Harry gave me a sudden hard shove, and I staggered forward so I was right on top of the body. I looked down in horror. His face had been smashed in. I could see the white of his brains on his broken forehead.

‘Okay, Mr. Lucas,’ Harry said, coming forward and taking hold of my arm. ‘Let’s get back to the car. Benny and Joe will fix him. You happy? I want you to be happy about this.’

I jerked away from him and walked unsteadily back to my car. He kept by my side. When we reached the car, his hand again took hold of my arm and he steered me firmly to the back of the car. He opened the trunk.

‘Here’s a mess, Mr. Lucas, but don’t worry your brains. We’ll fix it for you.’

I looked at the blood-soaked rubber lining of the trunk and turned away.

‘Get in the car and relax, Mr. Lucas. You don’t have a thing now to worry about.’

I opened the car door and sat in the passenger’s seat. Marsh’s smashed, bloody face swam in my dazed mind. I sat there until Joe and Benny returned. They got in the car, Harry slid under the driving wheel.

‘I’ll drop you off at your place, Mr. Lucas,’ he said, ‘then Joe’ll fix the car. I’ll have it put back in your garage this afternoon. You don’t have a goddamn thing to worry about.’

Not a thing, I thought, until Edwin Klaus comes around to pick up the price tag.

We sat side by side on the settee, my arm around her, her head against my shoulder. The yielding softness of her body against mine told me, as nothing else could do, how much I loved her. Her hands gripped mine. Her red hair was against my fading bruise.

The roar of the traffic, coming through the open window, the sound of Jebson’s TV coming up from below, the whine of the elevator as it moved between floors made a background of noise I scarcely registered.

Her hands tightened their grip.

‘I feel so terrible!’ she said. ‘How was I to know I would find someone like you! Oh, Larry, I am so sorry!’ She raised her face and her arm went around my neck. With her lips hard against mine, her tongue darting, Klaus faded from my mind. My fingers found the top of her stretch-pants, hooked in and pulled down. I peeled them off her as she gave a sighing moan.

We rolled off the settee on to the floor. My hands slid under her.

Arching her body, she received me, and my world exploded as she clutched and strained.

After what seemed a long period of time, I became aware of the sound of the church clock chiming ten: Heavy, sonorous strokes.

Then she caressed my face and rolled away from me, got up, leaving me lying there, satiated, aware now only of the smell of dust from the carpet, but utterly relaxed.

I heard water running in the bathroom. Forcing myself to my feet, I pulled on my slacks as she came out from the bathroom and walked slowly to the settee.

‘A drink, Larry,’ she said. ‘A big one.’

I made two outsized whiskeys, and not bothering with ice, I came over and sat beside her. She drank the neat whisky in two gulps, then let the glass drop on the carpet.

‘Larry, darling!’ She turned to stare at me, her big eyes glittering. ‘I love you! Please believe that!’ She held up her hand. ‘Don’t say anything yet... just listen to me. I swear to you if I had had any idea what that devil was planning, I wouldn’t have done what I did! I swear it to you! Please listen! Let me explain.’

I put my hand on hers.

‘You are in the same trap as I am. That’s right, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, yes, but it is a different kind of trap.’ She leaned back and closed her eyes. ‘Larry, I am nothing. I have never ever been anything but nothing. I won’t tell you about my background. God! It was sleazy. That’s the only word. I ran away from my parents. For ten years, I had dozens of jobs, and they all finished up in some sordid bedroom with me fighting off the man who was employing me. A year ago, I got a job at a motel. What a job! There I met Alex. He had money. He ran a Caddy. When he offered marriage, I jumped at it... anything to get away from fumbling hands and slinging hash. In his crazy, vicious way he was madly in love with me. To me, he was a meal ticket, and nothing more. He had a big business, handling hot cars. I didn’t care. I had kicked around long enough not to bother about which side of the law I was on. All I wanted was a shelter. Alex was crazy about golf. He taught me. We played every day. We had a nice bungalow. When he was working, I just slopped around. We had a coloured woman to clean. Then one day, he came back early, looking as if he had been run over by a truck. He was in a terrible state. His face was swollen, his eyes black, caked blood on his coat. He had been worked over. All his guts, and he had lots of guts, had drained out of him. He told me he and I had to work for Klaus. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but the sight of him scared me. He said Klaus had visited him in his garage, and had said he wanted Alex and me to do a job for him. Alex told him to go to hell. Then three men walked in and nearly killed Alex. They beat him silly. They took Alex’s guts from him like a surgeon takes out an appendix. He was now a fat, slobbering creature who horrified me. I said no one was going to tell me what to do, and I was leaving him. Then Benny and Joe walked in. While Alex sat crying, they gagged me and took the guts out of me with a strap. By the time they had finished, I was as craven as Alex.’ She paused to pick up her fallen glass. ‘I’ll have another drink, Larry.’

Feeling cold and sick, I made her another whisky.

‘That’s how it was, Larry,’ she said, and drank. ‘Klaus has told you about his plan to break into the Sharnville bank?’

‘He’s told me.’

‘He’s a devil. Make no mistake about that. He found out you and Brannigan played golf together. He sent Joe to put water in Brannigan’s gas tank so you and I could meet. His idea was for me to come to Sharnville with his phony reporting setup. He thought I could persuade you to tell me about the security of the bank.’ She ran her fingers through her red hair. ‘If only you had, Larry! Alex could be alive now.’

‘He should have known,’ I said.

She lifted her hands in despair.

‘It was a long shot which didn’t work. Then he told me he would blackmail you into giving him the information, and he told me what I had to do. With the threat of another beating, I hadn’t the guts to refuse. I thought they would just take photographs of us making love, and that would be enough. I swear I had no idea that Alex would be involved, and they would murder him.’ She looked directly at me. ‘You must hate me for what I have done to you, but if you had been beaten as I have, maybe you would understand.’

‘Of course I don’t hate you! I could never do that,’ I said. ‘This is something we have to work out together. You are the one woman who has ever meant anything to me.’ I took her hands in mine. ‘I have seven days to say either yes or no. This has dropped on me like an avalanche. My mind isn’t working properly, but let us look at the situation we are both faced with. Klaus plans to rob the bank, using me to tell him how to do it. He has enough evidence against me to send me to jail for life. That is his ace card, but I also have an ace card. I could go to Brannigan, and tell him the whole story. He is, as Klaus has said, a righteous man, but he wouldn’t stand for blackmail. I’m sure of that. He knows Klaus is a liar and a thief. He could use his power to nail Klaus, and get me off the hook. I would be finished in Sharnville, but at least, I wouldn’t go to jail. We two could go somewhere, and I could begin again. As I see it right now, I must talk to Brannigan.’

Glenda closed her eyes and shivered.

‘Have you forgotten you are dealing with a devil, Larry? A devil who didn’t hesitate to kill Alex so he could blackmail you? We two won’t go away together. How I wish it was as easy as that.’ She paused, then went on, ‘If you don’t do what he wants, he is going to have me murdered as he had Alex murdered.’

I stared at her, not believing what I had heard.

‘Murdered? What do you mean?’

‘Klaus has already anticipated that you would go to Brannigan. Why do you think I am here, Larry? Why do you think he has allowed me to see you again? He told me to spell out the message. He will have me murdered so it will look as if you killed me as he made it look as if you killed Alex.’

Again, I felt as if a Siberian wind was blowing over me. I was once again a mouse darting here and there to avoid the cat’s claws.

‘If we are going to escape from this trap, Larry,’ Glenda went on, ‘you must tell Klaus how to break into the bank, but this is up to you.’ She got up and began to move around the room. ‘He is a devil! I’m so frightened! I don’t want to die, Larry! I want to share my life with you. I don’t give a damn if we have no money... just so long as we are together. Do you really care if this bank is robbed? Every day banks are being robbed, and who cares? You have only to tell him how to do it, and we are free!’

I hesitated, staring at her.

‘But, Glenda, I made it safe! You must understand! If Klaus breaks into that bank, everything I have worked for, my position in Sharnville, the years and years of grinding study goes into a puddle of mud.’

She put her hands to her eyes.

‘All right, Larry. Yes, I understand, then my life takes second place.’

As if on cue, the front door burst open, and Benny and Joe came in. Joe caught hold of Glenda and jerked her to the open door. Benny moved up to me and gave me a shove with his open hand, sending me reeling.

‘Okay, fink,’ he said. ‘You now know the photo. The next time you see this babe, she’ll be a bloody mess unless you do what you’re told,’ and they left, hustling Glenda between them, and the door slammed behind them.

Unsteadily, I went to the window and watched them push Glenda into the Chevy, then watched them drive away.

I sat down. It was still a nightmare, and I longed for the moment when I woke up to find this hadn’t happened: that this was only a terrifying dream.

The church clock struck eleven. Jebson’s TV set suddenly snapped off. There was silence, except for the distant roar of the traffic and sitting still, I had to face the fact that this was no nightmare.

I heard Glenda’s voice, shaking with panic: Do you really care if the bank is robbed?

I thought of Farrell Brannigan, and what he had done for me. I remembered what Dixon had said. Brannigan had no mercy for anyone who stepped out of turn. He was a righteous man. He would have no mercy for me if I went to him and told him this blackmail story. My immediate reaction had been to go to him, but now, thinking about it, I realized he would treat me as he had treated Klaus forty years ago.

It was hard for me to believe that Klaus would have Glenda murdered, but, I told myself, he had ruthlessly arranged her husband’s murder. His threat could become a reality, and this was unthinkable.

You have only to tell him how to do it, and we’re free!

I could submit to Klaus’s blackmail and tell him how to break into the bank. I considered this. Only Brannigan, Manson and I knew of the soft underbelly of the bank’s security. If Klaus succeeded in robbing the bank, Brannigan, Manson and I would come under the police searchlight Brannigan would be immediately discounted. The searchlight would then concentrate on Manson and myself. Brannigan would never have chosen Manson to manage the safest bank in the world unless he was sure Manson was above reproach. The police would probe into Manson’s background. They would find, as I knew, he lived simply, and he was a dedicated banker, so the searchlight would concentrate on me. I was the one who had made the bank safe. I knew far better than Manson how the electronic gimmicks worked. These gimmicks were so safe, no thief could get into the bank without inside information. This information was held by Brannigan, Manson and myself. When they had discounted Brannigan and Manson, they would select me as suspect No. 1.

I was being threatened by Klaus with a life sentence for murdering Marsh. According to Glenda, he would have her murdered, and make it seem I was her killer if I didn’t cooperate with him. Yet if I did, and I broke down under police interrogation, I could still face a long jail sentence.

There must be a way out of this trap!

I had seven days.

In seven days, I had to come up with a solution to save myself!

As I walked into the outer office on Monday morning, my secretary, Mary Oldham, at her desk, looked up.

‘Good morning, Mr. Lucas.’

‘Hi, Mary! What’s the mail like?’

‘Lots of it. It’s on your desk.’ A pause, then she said, ‘That’s a terrible thing about Sheriff Thomson, isn’t it?’

I stopped as if I had walked into a brick wall.

‘Thomson?’ I turned and stared at her. ‘What happened?

‘It was on the radio, Mr. Lucas. Didn’t you catch it?’

‘What happened?’ I was aware my voice was shrill.

‘Late last night: a hit-and-run driver. The poor man was walking to his car when this car deliberately hit him. Three people say they saw the car mount the sidewalk. Sheriff Thomson hadn’t a chance.’

The Siberian wind blew over me.

‘Is he — is he dead?’

‘He’s very bad. He’s in hospital. They say he is m a serious condition.’

I heard Klaus’s dry voice saying: Never mind about the sheriff. I have already anticipated trouble from him, and I will take care of him.

So he had taken care of him. I stood there, feeling the blood leaving my face, then pulling myself together, I mumbled I was sorry and walked into my office. I sat down at my desk. I hadn’t time even to think before Bill Dixon breezed in.

‘I’m off to ‘Frisco, Larry,’ he said, and put a pile of papers on my desk. ‘More work for you. Lowson wants us to equip them with their office furniture. It’s the usual rush job. The details are all here.’ He looked at me. ‘Did Brannigan give us credit?’

‘I didn’t get around to seeing him again,’ I said, ‘but he will. Don’t worry about that.’

He grinned.

‘That’s your worry.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I must get off. Tough about Thomson. I liked the guy. He was a dedicated cop.’

I turned ice cold.

‘Have you more news? I heard he was knocked down.’

‘Heard it on the radio as I drove in,’ Bill said. ‘He died half an hour ago. What kills me is that three jerks actually saw this driver run him down, and none of them got his licence number nor even a description of the car. Some goddamn drunk. Thomson really had crime under control here. Maclain, his deputy, is less than useless. Well, I’m off. See you, Larry,’ and he left.

I sat still, staring into space.

I’ll take care of him.

First Marsh, now Thomson. Two men dead to achieve a vicious revenge. I remembered what Glenda had said: He is a devil. I also remembered that both she and I were equally in the shadow of a violent end.

Then the telephone bell rang, and from then on, I was caught up for the rest of the day in non-stop work.

At 18.00, our small factory at the back of the office block closed for the day. Having cleared my desk, I went down and walked into the big room that housed our setup for repairs, for experiments and for new machines. My three engineers were on the point of leaving. Frank Dodge, my chief engineer, looked inquiringly at me.

‘Something special, Mr. Lucas?’ he asked. ‘I’m in no hurry. Something I can do?’

‘It’s okay, Frank. I just want to work out an idea. You get off.’

When they had gone, I sat down at the bench. I worked until midnight on a gimmick that would unscramble the direct telephone line from the Los Angeles bank to the Sharnville bank. When I had finished, I knew all I had to do was to connect this gimmick with the telephone in Manson’s office, and I could open the three locks of the vault.

Taking the gimmick with me, I returned to my apartment. By now I had got over the shock of Thomson’s death. He had been dangerous, and I had had the feeling he had been hostile to me. Deputy Sheriff Fred Maclain would take his place until the next election. I didn’t have to worry about him. He was a big, grossly fat drunk who was good for nothing except bawling out traffic offenders. He could no more cope with a bank break-in than a six-year-old child.

But the red light was up. I knew now that Klaus was utterly ruthless, and nothing would stop him cutting Brannigan down to size. I was sure he would have me murdered if I failed to get his men into the vault. I also felt sure he now wouldn’t go ahead with his blackmail threat. I had alerted him that if I were arrested for Marsh’s murder, I would talk, and he was more than aware of Brannigan’s power. Having discarded this blackmail threat to make me co-operate, he would now switch threats, and kill Glenda and me if I didn’t get his men into the vault.

The next two days passed quickly. I had so much to do in the office, I hadn’t time to think of Klaus, but, at night, when I was alone, I thought and planned, and by the third morning, I had a watertight plan for not only getting Klaus’s men into the vault, but for them to get away with the loot. I also made other plans to take care of Glenda and myself.

During these three days, there was a tremendous uproar in the local press about Sheriff Thomson’s death. The editor said it was shameful, and what were the police doing about it? Even the Mayor joined in. The paper carried a photo of Deputy Sheriff Maclain’s fat, bloated face. He declared the police of Sharnville would never rest until they found this drunk driver. No one killed a fine man like Sheriff Thomson and got away with it... just words that meant nothing.

Thomson’s funeral was attended by more than two thousand people. Every leading citizen, including Dixon and myself, was there. It was an experience I will never forget. There was a long queue of important people to shake Mrs. Thomson’s hand and mutter condolences. I couldn’t face that. I told Dixon to represent us, and I moved out of the queue. He gave me an odd look, began to say I should do it, but I walked away.

That night, at 21.00, there was a ring on my doorbell. I had been waiting. I picked up my brief-case, opened the door and found Joe, waiting by the elevator. We rode down together, and got in the Chevy. I put my brief-case between us.

‘So we’re going into action, Mr. Lucas?’ he said, as he started the engine. ‘You’ve got it all fixed?’

‘I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,’ I said.

‘Yeah, man. Soon we’ll all be on the gravy train. Man! Does this mean something to me! I’ve got a girl waiting. Me and she’ll take off. I’ve got it all figured out. We’re going to be in the gravy for the rest of our days!’

‘Did Benny kill the sheriff?’

He nodded.

‘He sure did. Now, I don’t dig Benny, but he sure does a job. That sonofabitch sheriff was like a boil on my arse. You know something, Mr. Lucas? I was driving along, nice and quiet, when this sonofabitch flagged me down. He wanted to know what I was doing in Sharnville. I smelt he hated black people. I told him I was passing through, and he said for me to keep passing.’ Joe giggled. ‘He was too smart. When a creep gets too smart, Mr. Klaus fixes him, and that sonofabitch was sure fixed.’ There was a pause, then he went on, ‘You’ve really got this operation fixed, Mr. Lucas?’

‘Yes, but it could still go wrong. You could still get twenty years, but that’s your funeral.’

‘Yeah, man.’ He gave a short barking laugh, ‘but it sure would be your funeral too.’ He drove the car out of the town traffic and on to the highway. ‘The boss says there will be three million bucks in that vault. I can’t sleep thinking of all that bread.’

This gave me the chance I was waiting for.

‘What makes you think you’re going to get any bread at all, Joe?’ I asked.

I could see his black face in the light from the dashboard. The muscles under his skin tightened.

‘What was that again, Mr. Lucas?’

‘I was just thinking aloud, forget it.’

‘What was that about me not getting my share?’ There was a sudden snarl in his voice.

‘Forget it. If you’re lucky, you’ll get it... if you’re lucky.’

He drove in silence for some moments. I lit a cigarette. I hadn’t spent the past nights, thinking and planning, for nothing.

Finally, he said anxiously, ‘What you mean — lucky?’

‘Are you lucky, Joe?’

He thought about this, his face worried.

‘Lucky? I guess not. I’ve never been lucky. I’ve spent most of my life in jail. I get all the dirty work to do for the boss. No, I guess I ain’t lucky.’

‘Three million dollars!’ I released a low whistle. ‘That’s a heap of money. I don’t know what they have promised you, Joe. Maybe half a million. That’s a lot of money for a black boy, but you could be lucky.’

He slowed the car and pulled into a lay-bay. He turned and glared at me.

‘What are you getting at?’ he demanded, alarm in his voice.

‘Just stating a fact, Joe. That’s a lot of money. What s to stop Benny putting a bullet through your head once he has the loot?’

He stared at me: the whites of his eyes enormous: his thick lips twitching.

‘Harry wouldn’t let him! What are you getting at?’

‘Just warning you, Joe. I’ll tell you something. I’m worried about Benny. He’s a killer. I’ve got this operation fixed, but I am getting paid in advance. I’m covered, but you aren’t. Now, think, Joe: can you imagine a killer like Benny would let a black boy walk away with five hundred thousand dollars? Ask yourself.’

Sweat broke out on his face.

‘Harry will look after me.’ He banged his big fists down on the steering wheel. ‘I trust Harry.’

‘That’s fine, but it’s news to me. I didn’t know any black man could trust any white man when there’s big money around. If you can trust Harry to take care of you, then you’ve nothing to worry about. I was only thinking aloud. Come on, let’s get moving.’

He wiped his sweating face with the back of his hand.

‘Are you trying to con me, Mr. Lucas?’

‘It’s a lot of money. Think about it. If you can really trust Harry, you have no problem... a little luck perhaps. Let’s go... your boss is waiting.’

‘If Benny tries anything with me,’ he muttered ‘I’ll fix him.’

I had sown a seed of doubt in his mind, and that’s what I wanted to do,

‘Sure, but watch him, Joe. When you three get the loot, don’t turn your back on him. Now, let’s go.’

He sat for a long moment, muttering to himself, then he started the car and drove back on to the highway. I didn’t want further talk, so I pressed down the cassette, and the car rocked with beat music.

Harry was at the gate. He waved to me as Joe drove by, I lifted my hand. I would now have to work on Harry. He was a very different proposition to Joe, but I had worked that out too.

As I got out of the car, Benny met me at the front door.

‘Hi, fink,’ he said. ‘The boss is waiting.’

I looked him over, knowing he was the danger. There was a leering expression on his brutal face. I knew I could do nothing with him. I walked by him and into the living-room.

Klaus was sitting at his desk, his small brown hands resting on the blotter.

‘Come in, Mr. Lucas, and sit down.’

As I sat down, Harry came in and moved over to a distant chair.

I twisted around and looked at him. I wondered about him. He was an unknown factor. He looked tough and cocky as he scratched his beard, but he hadn’t Benny’s brutal viciousness.

‘This is Harry Brett,’ Klaus said. ‘From now on, Mr. Lucas, you and he will work together. You will tell him what you want, and he will arrange it.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I take it you can tell me how to break into the vault and how to get the money out?’

I stared at him.

‘Did you have to murder Sheriff Thomson?’

His hands turned into fists and his slate-grey eyes lit up with that maniacal glare.

‘Let that be an example to you,’ he snarled. ‘When anyone obstructs or is likely to obstruct me, I get rid of him. Remember that! Now answer my question: can you tell me how to break into the vault and get the money out?’

‘I can, but on my terms.’

‘We have gone into that already.’ There was a snap in his voice. ‘That we will discuss later.’

I glanced at Harry who was listening intently.

‘You are forcing me to betray a trust,’ I said. You are blackmailing me for a murder I didn’t commit. The evidence you have against me could put me in jail for years, and you know it is faked evidence. I have a trump card. I could tell Brannigan, and he would come after you, and make no mistake about it, he would nail you. Unless you meet my terms, I am prepared to stand trial, and I know you will also land in jail. I want advance payment if I tell you how to break into the vault.’

‘We have gone into this before,’ Klaus said impatiently. ‘I will pay you as arranged if you can convince me we can break into the vault and get the money away.’

‘We?’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t imagine you will participate. You will be sitting here in safety while your people take the risks.’

Klaus glared at me.

‘What risks?’

‘The unexpected. If the unexpected happens, your people will go away for twenty years.’

I saw Harry shift uneasily.

Leaning forward, his face a snarling mask, Klaus said, ‘And you and your woman will be dead as Marsh and Thomson are dead!’

Looking at him, I now was sure he was mentally unbalanced: he was a psychopath, and I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

‘Then let us hope the unexpected doesn’t happen,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I reached down and picked up my brief-case I had brought with me.

Moving with the quickness of a lizard, Harry was by my side. He snatched the brief-case from me, put it on the desk, flicked up the catches and opened it. A brief glance at its contents satisfied him. He nodded to Klaus, then returned to his chair.

I guessed he might have thought I had brought a gun with me or it might have been a show of efficiency to impress Klaus. Whatever it was, by his lightning movement, I was warned that this man must not be underestimated.

From the brief-case, I took the gimmick I had made and two photoelectric neutralizes and the blue print of the bank.

I spread the blueprint on the desk.

‘Here is the entrance to the bank. Double doors are operated by a photoelectric cell. It is a unique cell with a neutralizer only held by Manson, the head teller and myself. There is no security risk. If someone got hold of the neutralizer, he would only be able to enter ‘he lobby of the bank. He couldn’t get into the vault nor get up to the second floor where the staff is. This neutralizer will get your men into the lobby. Getting in has to be timed right when the guard is patrolling. The doors slide back, your men rush in and the doors will automatically close. It shouldn’t take them more than thirty seconds. They will have to bring with them a small oxyacetylene cutter to get into the deposit boxes. There will be no problem burning out the locks. It’ll take time, but a cutter will do it. The problem, of course, is getting into the vault.’ I pointed to the blueprint. ‘Here is Manson’s office. There are three scanners covering the lobby. Each is activated to take photographs if a beam is broken. Here is the beam,’ and I drew a pencil line across the lobby. ‘By crawling on hands and knees, your men can reach the elevator without activating the scanner. Using this second neutralize they can operate the elevator and get into Manson’s office on the second floor.’ I picked up the gimmick I had made. ‘On Manson’s desk is a red telephone. The lead wires must be cut and stripped, then joined with these two wires here,’ and I showed him the two loose wires on the gimmick. ‘Then using the dial on the red telephone, four numbers must be dialled. The numbers are 2-4-6-8. These numbers will release three of the vault’s locks. Then using the cassette of Manson’s voice, the other three locks will be released and the vault door opens. The cassette is in a spring-opening panel behind Manson’s desk. It is up to your people how fast they break into the deposit boxes. Assuming they enter the bank around 02.00 on Saturday morning, they should have cleared the boxes by the evening.’ I paused and looked at Klaus. ‘Any questions so far?’

Klaus looked at Harry who shook his head.

‘You and Harry will work out the details later,’ Klaus said. ‘Now tell me how to get the money out.’

‘At first, this seemed to me a major problem, but I’ve got it fixed. There are some four hundred deposit boxes in the vault. Not all of them are in use, but to make sure, your people will have to open them all. Those that are in use will contain money, jewellery, bonds and documents. You must have cartons in which to move the loot. It takes the guard around three minutes to patrol the bank before returning to his sentry-box by the bank’s entrance. So your people will have to rush in, not only with the cutter, but a number of collapsible cartons. The change of guards takes place on Sunday morning at 08.00. This is when the loot must be moved. It is an acceptable risk because there are few people on the street, and the guards will be chatting each other up in front of the bank. At exactly 07.55, a security truck will arrive at the back of the bank. Every Monday morning, a security truck arrives around 08.00, delivering bank reserves, money for wages and so on. Everyone in Sharnville has seen this truck at one time or the other. You can say it is a familiar landmark.’ I pointed my pencil to the blueprint ‘The truck arrives at the bank, here, and drives down this ramp into a cellar. Once in, the doors, leading into the cellar, automatically shut. The truck driver has a neutralizer that opens the door of the cellar. Once in the cellar, he waits, until one of the staff opens a steel door with direct access into the vault. This staff member will not open the steel door until the truck driver has identified himself. I can open the doors to the cellar and the steel door into the bank, but only from inside the vault. You will have to supply an identical truck and two men wearing security guards’ uniform. You put the cartons in the truck and drive away. Unless your men slip up, there will be no alert until the bank opens on Monday morning so your men should get well away.’

Klaus looked at Harry.

‘Can you get a truck and the uniforms?’

‘Sure. I’ll need to get a photo of the truck and the uniforms. I know a guy who can fix it. No problem.’

Turning to me, Klaus said, ‘You think this plan of yours will succeed?’

‘If it doesn’t, no other plan will.’ I pointed to the gimmick and to the blueprint. ‘I’ve made it as foolproof as possible. It is now up to your people.’

‘No, Mr. Lucas, it will be up to you. You will be with them.’ He leaned forward to stare at me, his eyes glittering. ‘If anything goes wrong, you will be shot. Benny killed Marsh, and he killed Thomson. He has orders to shoot you if this operation fails or if he thinks you are being tricky. Remember that.’ His face set in a snarling mask. ‘And there is another thing for you to remember. I will personally shoot your woman, Mr. Lucas! This operation must succeed!’

‘I hear you,’ I said.

Klaus looked at Harry.

‘Get it moving, Harry: the truck, the uniforms, the cutter and the cartons. I want the operation to begin Saturday at 3 a.m. You will discuss with Mr. Lucas all the necessary details tomorrow night. Where will you meet him?’

Harry scratched his beard as he thought.

‘Nine, tomorrow night, at the Golden Rose motel on the Frisco highway.’ He looked at me. ‘Do you know it?’

‘I’ll find it.’

‘Ask for cabin six.’ He gave a sly, cocky grin. ‘They know me there.’

Getting up, he left the room.

‘Are you satisfied?’ I asked Klaus.

‘If Harry finds no problems, I will pay you as agreed.’ He took from a drawer a bulky envelope. Opening the envelope, he produced bearer bonds. ‘Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Mr. Lucas. Look at them.’ He pushed the bonds across the desk. ‘They should give you an incentive.’

I picked up the bonds. They were each of the value of $25,000. Ten of them: they looked as if they had passed through many hands. I put them back on the desk, and Klaus scooped them up.

‘These bonds will be delivered to you at your office next week if I am satisfied Harry thinks there are no problems.’

I picked up my brief-case and got to my feet.

‘No money... no operation,’ I said.

‘If there are no problems, you will get the money. From what you have told me, I don’t anticipate problems. When. you get the bonds, be careful. If you decide to sacrifice your woman’s life, and bolt, don’t do it.’ Once again his face turned into a snarling mask. ‘From now on, you will be watched. I have an organization: not just three men. If you try to bolt, you won’t get far, and your end will be unpleasant.’ The slate-grey eyes lit up. ‘They will cut off your hands, blind you and cut off your tongue. You will be left to bleed to death. So don’t try anything tricky, Mr. Lucas.’

Then I knew he was utterly mad.

‘I hear you,’ I said, and leaving him, I walked into the lobby.

Benny, standing by the front door, sneered at me.

‘Be seeing you, fink,’ he said.

I went out to where Joe, playing his harmonica, sat in the Chevy.

As I slid into the passenger’s seat, I thought thankfully that Klaus wasn’t as smart as Joe said he was. I had taken a risk. Neither Klaus, Harry nor Joe had an idea that I had a tape recorder built into the lid of my brief-case, and I now had a tape recording of every word they had said.

‘Hi, fink,’ Benny said, grinning evilly. ‘The boss wants you. Let’s move.’

‘I’ll see him tomorrow night at nine,’ I said. ‘Now, get out!’

‘You’ll see him right now, fink, or I’ll start breaking your whore’s fingers. Let’s move.’

I placed my hand on the horn button.

‘Listen to me, Benny, you touch her, and the operation is off. I’ll see Klaus tomorrow night, and not before. Get out or I’ll start the horn, and you’ll get a load of law in your lap.’

We stared at each other. There was an uneasy, frustrated rage in his eyes.

‘Get out!’ I repeated.

‘I told the boss you’d be a smart sonofabitch, but don’t kid yourself, fink, I’ll take care of you.’

At this moment, a patrolman came out of the station house. He paused, then came over to my car.

‘Evening, Mr. Lucas,’ he said. ‘You can’t park here.’

‘Hi, Tom.’ I knew most of the patrolmen. ‘I’m on my way.’ Turning to Benny, I said, ‘Then tomorrow. So long.’

Benny hesitated, then aware that the patrolman was staring at him, he slid out of the car and walked across the street.

‘Who’s he?’ the patrolman asked. ‘I haven’t seen him around.’

‘Business, Tom.’ I forced a smile. ‘They come in all shapes and sizes,’ then nodding, I drove down the street. I stopped outside a Howard Johnson restaurant and went in. I ordered a club sandwich, and while I ate it, I thought about Glenda. She was now very much on my mind. I felt that I had enough on Klaus not only to stop the break-in, but to get Glenda away from him. With the evidence I had given Maclain to guard, I was sure I had Klaus trapped. I couldn’t see how he could wriggle out of it. I knew I was taking a risk, dealing with a psychopath, but it seemed to me he would either have to accept defeat or eventually be jailed for years once Brannigan and the police came after him.

I spent a restless night, half sleeping, half dozing. I kept thinking of Glenda, and the more I thought of her, the more I realized how much she meant to me. If I could call Klaus’s bluff, stop the bank break-in, make him leave Sharnville, then my life would once again be on an even keel. Now Marsh was dead, there was nothing to stop me marrying Glenda, always providing Klaus disappeared.

I was glad I had so much office work to do the following day. The rush of work prevented me worrying about the evening when I had to face Klaus. In the afternoon, Bill Dixon phoned through to say he had landed another contract to build a small factory to produce electrical components, and they wanted office furniture. Could I see the director on Monday to discuss exactly what he wanted? I said there would be no problem, and fixed a time. As I hung up, I wondered if I would still be in Sharnville on Monday, If I couldn’t bluff Klaus, then I would be on the run.

I considered writing a letter to Bill Dixon, enclosing a copy of my statement to Brannigan in case I had to get out fast, but I decided I still had all day Friday and half Friday night to decide which way the dice would fall.

If I were forced to go on the run, I would need cash. I checked my bank statement. I had some eight thousand dollars in my account. I wrote a cheque for this amount, then telling Mary I was going to the bank and would be back right away, I left my office.

As I was waiting for the traffic lights to change, I spotted Joe, — propping up a fire hydrant. He and I looked at each other, then the lights changed and I crossed. I went into the lobby of the bank, signed my name with a computer pen, fed the cheque into the slot, and after a minute or so, the money dropped into the pay-out slot. I put the bills into my hip pocket and returned to my office block. Joe was still propping up the fire hydrant. I ignored him, pushed open the glass doors and took the elevator up to my office.

I spent the rest of the day clearing my desk. There was a mass of outstanding work still to be done, and if I had to bolt, I didn’t want Bill to be landed with too much work.

At 19.00, I told Mary to go home. When she had gone, I put the copy of my statement to Brannigan and the two tapes into my brief-case. Then picking up a small tape player, I locked up and went down to my car.

As I was unlocking the car door, Joe materialized out of the shadows.

‘You seeing the boss tonight, Mr. Lucas?’ There was an anxious note in his voice.

‘I’m seeing him, Joe,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to hang around me. I’ll be there at nine.’

‘The boss told me to keep tabs on you, Mr. Lucas. I do what I’m told.’

‘I’m going to have dinner. Come with me,’ I said, and got in my car. Leaning over, I unlocked the passenger’s door.

Joe gaped at me.

‘I can’t eat with you.’

‘Oh, skip it, Joe. I know a place. You may as well eat if you have to keep tabs on me.’

He hesitated, then got in beside me.

I drove to a small restaurant that employed black staff. The restaurant was noted for its steaks, and I often ate there.

Joe seemed to relax as he settled himself at a corner table. There were more blacks than whites at the tables, and the black waiter gave him a friendly smile.

‘Two steaks, rare,’ I said, ‘and beers.’

I took out a pack of cigarettes and offered it to Joe who shook his head.

‘I don’t smoke, Mr. Lucas.’

As I lit up, I said, ‘Time’s running out, Joe. Are you still going ahead with it?’

He moved uneasily.

‘Like you, Mr. Lucas, I’ve got to do what I’m told.’

‘You don’t. You can get on a bus and disappear.’

He stared at me.

‘Why should I do that?’

‘Better to disappear than get a bullet through your head.’

He flinched.

‘You said Harry, you and me would watch Benny.’

‘I’ve talked to Harry. He’s worrying about himself. He’s not worrying about you, Joe. I can understand that. I’m worrying about myself.’

The steaks arrived with the beer. I began to eat my steak, but Joe sat still, staring down at his plate, his face creased in a worried frown.

‘Come on, Joe, eat up,’ I said. ‘I could be wrong about Benny, but if I were black, I would get the hell out of Sharnville. I would rather have my life than risk Benny.’

‘I’ve no place to go,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve got no money.’

While his mind was occupied with his troubles, I shot out,

‘How’s Miss Glenda, Joe?’

Off guard, he looked up.

‘She’s having it rough, Mr. Lucas. That Benny...’ Then he stopped short.

I stiffened.

‘What’s Benny doing to her Joe?’

He began to toy with his steak.

‘You see, Mr. Lucas, I don’t hang around the place nor does Harry, but Benny stays there all the time. He’s the boss’s bodyguard. He’s got nothing to do but to pester Miss Glenda, and he sure does.’

‘You realize your boss has kidnapped her, Joe?’

He chewed on his steak while he thought about this, then he shook his head.

‘That ain’t right, Mr. Lucas. She works for him.’

‘She has been forced to work for him, and she is being held prisoner. In law, Joe, that makes your boss, you, Harry and Benny kidnappers. You get a much longer stretch for kidnapping than for breaking into a bank.’

His eyes shifted.

‘I know nothing about the law,’ he mumbled. ‘I do what I’m told... like you, I’ve got to.’

‘Would you help me free her, Joe?’

His eyes grew round.

‘The boss wouldn’t dig that, Mr. Lucas.’

‘Never mind about him, think of yourself. If you helped me to get her free, you wouldn’t go to jail as a kidnapper.’

‘How would I help you?’ he asked, and cut another piece of steak.

‘Is Harry out there tonight?’

‘He’s gone to Frisco about the truck.’

‘So there’s only Benny, your boss and Miss Glenda there?’

He nodded.

‘Do you know where she is, Joe?’

‘Sure. She’s in a room at the back of the house.’

‘Is the door locked?’

‘Not locked, it’s bolted on the outside.’

I pushed aside my plate. Then taking out the bills I had drawn from the bank, keeping them out of sight under the table, I peeled off five one-thousand dollar bills. The rest of the money I put back in my pocket.

‘The bank operation is off, Joe,’ I said. ‘Don’t ask questions: take it from me it is off. Here’s your chance to get away. I’ll give you five thousand dollars if you’ll get Miss Glenda out of that house.’

His eyes bugged out.

‘Five thousand bucks?’ He put down his knife and fork and stared at me. ‘You’ll give me five thousand bucks?’

There was no one sitting at the table near us, so I showed him the bills. He gaped at them.

‘Now, listen, Joe. It’s easy. This is what you do. I’ll drive you out to, the house and leave you at the end of the lane. While I’m talking to Klaus, you get in, go to Miss Glenda’s room, get her out and put her in my car. Drive her to the Sherwood Hotel and leave her there. Tell her I’ll join her later. That’s all you have to do. Then drive back, leave my car by the gate, then beat it. At the highway, you can get a bus. With five thousand dollars you can get lost. You won’t have to worry about a kidnapping rap nor being arrested for trying to break into the bank. What do you say?’

He screwed up his eyes while he thought. I waited, my hands clammy, my heart thumping. Finally, he shook his head.

‘There’s three million in that bank. Five grand is peanuts.’

‘Don’t be a fool, Joe! I’ve told you there’s not going to be a break-in.’ I picked up my brief-case, standing on the floor by my side, took out my statement to Brannigan and handed it to him.

‘Read that.’

It took him nearly ten minutes to read the statement. He traced each word with a thick finger, frowning, and holding the two sheets of paper close to his face as if he were short-sighted. Finally, he finished, then stared at me.

‘The boss will kill you, Mr. Lucas.’

‘No, he won’t. A copy is already in the hands of the police. They read it on Monday morning and they will go into action. They have the forged bonds with Klaus’s prints on them. By this time tomorrow, Joe, he’ll be miles away, and he won’t be worrying about you.’

‘You mention me in this,’ Joe said, tapping the statement.

‘But no description, Joe. If you free Miss Glenda, with this money, you haven’t a care in the world.’

Again he screwed up his eyes while he thought.

‘You sure played it smart, Mr. Lucas. Yeah. I’ve thought about what you said the other night. I can’t imagine Benny letting me walk away with a big lump of money even if we did get into the bank. Yeah, I guess I’d be smart to play along with you.’

I drew in a long, deep breath.

All my nights of thinking had paid off!

‘So you’ll get her out, Joe, and take her to the Sherwood Hotel?’

‘Yeah. That’s what I’ll do. Then I’ll bring your car back and get me out of Sharnville pronto.’

I studied his black, sweating face. I felt I could trust him.

‘Don’t worry about Benny. I’ll get him in the room with Klaus. Give me exactly ten minutes from the time I enter the house. Have you a watch?’

‘Sure, Mr. Lucas.’

‘I’ll make sure the front door is unlocked. Give me ten minutes, then get Miss Glenda out. Understand?’

‘Sure... ten minutes, and I get her out.’

‘Right.’ I looked at my watch. I had twenty minutes now to get to Klaus’s place by 21.00. I called for the cheque, paid, then picking up my brief-case, I went out to my car, closely followed by Joe. We got in the car, and I headed out of town.

Joe said, ‘When do I get the money, Mr. Lucas?’

‘I’ll explain that.’

We said nothing until we reached the dirt road leading to Klaus’s place. Half-way up the dirt road, I stopped the car.

‘Now about the money.’ I took the bills from my pocket, folded them in half, then carefully tore them apart.

‘Hey, Mr. Lucas! What’s that you are doing?’ Joe’s voice shot up.

I handed him the torn half of the five bills and put the other half in my pocket.

‘The moment I know Miss Glenda is at the Sherwood Hotel Joe, I will deliver the other half to you... no problem. I just want to make sure you don’t chicken out. Okay?’

‘You’ll bring them to my pad?’

‘That’s it. When I’m through with your boss, I’ll drive to the Sherwood Hotel, see Miss Glenda, then come on to you, You stick the bills together and get lost.’

He nodded.

‘Okay, Mr. Lucas.’

We got out of the car and walked up the road. It was now dark. I could see the lights were on in the house.

‘Well, see you at your pad, Joe,’ I said. ‘I’ll take care of Benny. You have nothing to worry about. You get Miss Glenda to the Sherwood Hotel.’ I caught hold of his damp hand and shook it. ‘Give me ten minutes from now.’

‘Sure, Mr. Lucas.’

I walked quickly up to the gate, pushed it open and walked to the front door. My heart was hammering and my mouth was dry. As I rang on the doorbell, my hand pulled out the gun Joe had given me.

Benny opened the door.

‘Come on in, fink,’ he said.

As I stepped into the lighted lobby, I lifted the gun and shoved it hard against his fat belly.

‘Don’t take chances, Benny,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m longing to put a bullet in your guts. Take me to Klaus.’

Benny stared down at the gun, his brutal face expressionless. Then moving carefully, he walked ahead of me and into the living-room.

Klaus was sitting at his desk. His ice-grey eyes regarded me as I closed the door.

‘The fink’s got a gun,’ Benny said.

Klaus’s expression didn’t change.

‘Get over there, against the far wall,’ I said to Benny, ‘and stay there.’

Benny grinned.

‘Anything you say, fink,’ and he crossed the room so he was behind Klaus, and he rested his heavy shoulders against the wall.

Klaus said, ‘A gun, Mr. Lucas? So you have decided to be tricky. That is regrettable. Now, you are going to tell me the operation is off.’

‘Correct.’ I put the brief-case and the tape player on his desk. Using my left hand, still pointing the gun between Klaus and Benny, I opened the brief-case, took out my statement to Brannigan and slid it across the desk. ‘Read that.’

Klaus picked up the statement and read it. Then he looked up.

‘A masterpiece of brevity, Mr. Lucas.’

I had expected a violent reaction, and this relaxed remark made me uneasy.

‘The bonds you sent me are forgeries,’ I said. ‘Here are two tapes I want you to listen to. They will convince you the break-in is off.’

I put the tape on the player and turned the player on. For two or three minutes, Klaus listened to his own voice. When my voice said, Did you have to murder Sheriff Thomson? and his replied, Let that be an example to you. When anyone obstructs me or is likely to obstruct me, I get rid of him, he leaned forward and pressed the stop button.

‘I’ll take the rest as read,’ he said, and sat back.

‘Copies of the statement and the tapes are with the police,’ I said, and glanced at my watch. I had been in the room for fifteen minutes. By now, Glenda would be driving with Joe to the Sherwood Hotel. ‘I have arranged for the statement and the tapes to be delivered by the police to Brannigan on Monday morning. If anything happens to me, Brannigan will have enough to nail you, Klaus. That’s why I am telling you the bank break-in is off.’

‘Why should anything happen to you, Mr. Lucas?’ Klaus lifted his eyebrows. ‘If anything is going to happen, then it will happen to your woman. You are far too important to me to harm.’

‘By now, Klaus, Glenda is out of your reach.’

He gave a little chuckle that sent a chill up my spine.

‘First, let me congratulate you, Mr. Lucas. You made an excellent try.’ He waved to the statement and the tape player. ‘All very efficient, and well thought out, but unhappily for you, you are an amateur dealing with a professional. At three o’clock on Saturday morning, you will supervise the bank break-in. Make no mistake about that!’

I stared at him, feeling a gradual and deadly loss of confidence.

‘You are wrong. You now know the situation. Your sick idea isn’t going to work. Take my advice: get out of Sharnville before Brannigan puts you in jail.’

‘So you imagine Glenda is out of my reach?’ He shook his head. ‘She is locked in her room. I think you are romancing, Mr. Lucas.’

It was twenty-five minutes since I had been in the house. By now, Glenda would be safe in the Sherwood Hotel.

Then I heard a sound that froze me: the mournful spiritual, played on a harmonica.

‘There’s Joe,’ Klaus said, and chuckled. ‘Mr. Lucas, don’t wave that gun about. You don’t imagine I would let Joe give you a loaded gun? You see, the trouble with an amateur is that he doesn’t check like a professional does. The amateur is given a gun, and he jumps to the wrong conclusion that it is loaded. Shoot at me to convince yourself.’

Grinning evilly, Benny started across the room towards me. I lifted the gun, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger. I knew that I had been outwitted.

‘I owe you this, fink,’ Benny snarled, and his enormous fist smashed against the side of my face. A bright light exploded inside my head as I crashed to the floor. For some moments, I swam in darkness, then very faintly I heard Klaus say, ‘You shouldn’t have done that, Benny. There’s no need for violence.’

Then I became aware of hands digging into my jacket pocket. I made a feeble effort to push the hands away as I struggled back to consciousness. There was a long pause. My head began to clear, and my face began to ache. I rolled over, then dragged myself to my knees. The room swam into focus. I saw Joe standing by the desk.

I heard him say, ‘The sucker gave me five grand, boss. He tore the bills in half. I’ve got the other half now. Can I keep the money?’

‘Of course, Joe. I would say you earned it.’

I heard Joe giggle. The sound told me that all my work on him had been wasted. Glenda was still a prisoner!

Slowly, I got to my feet, and moved to a chair and sat down.

‘Give Mr. Lucas a drink,’ Klaus said. ‘He looks as if he could do with it.’

A glass of whisky was thrust into my hand.

‘I apologize, Mr. Lucas,’ Klaus said. ‘Benny gets carried away.’

I turned and threw the whisky in Benny’s sneering face. He yelled, his hands going to his eyes and he staggered back. Then wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he started towards me, his brutal face a mask of snarling rage.

‘Benny.’ Klaus didn’t raise his voice. ‘Go and see Glenda.’

Benny paused in his rush, stopped, looked at me, then grinned.

‘Yeah.’

He started to the door.

I forced myself to my feet and staggered after him. My head was raging with pain and the floor seemed tilted. Joe moved swiftly, caught hold of my arm, swung me around and slapped me hard across my mouth, then he flung me back into the chair.

Dazed, I again tried to stand up. Again Joe slammed me back. Then I heard a long, piercing scream somewhere at the back of the house: a woman’s scream, and I knew it was Glenda.

‘You’d better stop him, Joe,’ Klaus said mildly. ‘He doesn’t know his own strength.’

Grinning, Joe slipped out of the room.

‘It’s all right, Mr. Lucas,’ Klaus said. ‘She won’t be hurt again unless, of course, you don’t co-operate.’

I remembered what Glenda had said about her husband: all his guts, and he had lots of guts, drained out of him. They took Alex’s guts from him like a surgeon takes out an appendix.

Hearing that piercing scream took all the guts I had ever had from me.

‘I’ll co-operate,’ I said in a harsh whisper.

Joe and Benny came into the room. Benny was grinning, Joe was sweating and shaking his head.

‘Well now, Mr. Lucas,’ Klaus said. ‘Tomorrow morning you will get this statement of yours and the tapes back from the police. Is that understood?’

I nodded,

‘Good. You will bring them here. Is that understood?’

Again I nodded.

He leaned forward, his face a snarling mask, his eyes blazing.

‘If you try any further trickery, your woman will be tortured to death! I know all about your futile attempts to undermine Harry and Joe. There are three million dollars in that vault, and they want them! From now on you cooperate! Understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then tomorrow morning here!’ He slammed his fist on the desk and screamed at me in a mad, high-pitched voice, ‘No one, least of all you, will stop me breaking into that bank! Now get out!’

Joe came over to me and caught hold of my arm.

‘Come on, man,’ he said giggling. ‘Didn’t I take you for a ride!’

Joe burst out laughing, slapping his great black hands on his thighs.

‘Man! You sure do flap with your mouth.’

I walked out of the house to where my car was parked. As I got under the steering wheel, I remembered what Glenda had said: He’s a devil.

I felt utterly defeated and crushed. The trap had been sprung, and there was no way out. I heard again Glenda’s scream, and I shivered. I was not only dealing with a devil, but also a madman.

I drove back to Sharnville in despair.

I dreamed Joe was playing the spiritual on his harmonica. I moved, hoping to break the dream, then I abruptly came awake, and still the tune persisted.

I opened my eyes, and there was Joe, sitting on a stool, playing his harmonica, and seeing me staring at him, he stopped playing, and his thick lips moved into a wide grin.

‘Hi, there, man,’ he said. ‘Time to get up.’

I sat up on the bed. There were no agonizing pains, but my body ached. I looked around.

Seated on the floor, in a corner, was Glenda. She looked at me, her big eyes dull.

‘Come on, man,’ Joe said. ‘Have a bath. I’ll fix it for you. Time’s getting on. You can’t sleep forever.’

I looked at my watch. The time was ten o’clock. I had no idea if it was ten in the morning or night.

Joe opened the door and called. A moment later, Benny came in. He went over to Glenda, grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.

‘Nice walk now, baby,’ he said, and hustled her out of the room.

Joe went into the bathroom and turned on the bath taps.

I got to my feet, expecting sharp pains, but there were no pains. This was something I wasn’t going to let Joe know about. As he came out of the bathroom, I drew in a shuddering breath, and bent double.

‘Come on, come on, man,’ he said impatiently. ‘You ain’t that soft.’

I remained still, bent double, then hobbled slowly to the bathroom. I stood by the bath, breathing heavily as Joe turned off the taps. He pulled off my shirt.

‘Yeah, man. Benny certainly can do a job.’

I looked down at my chest. It was yellow, black and blue. Taking my time, making out I was much more feeble than I was, I got out of my trousers and pants, then naked, I reeled back, thudding against Joe who grabbed me.

‘Come on, man!’ he said impatiently, and half shoved, half lifted me into the bath.

I lay in the hot water, my eyes closed, but my mind now active. There must be some way out of this trap! As long as Glenda was a hostage, I was powerless. If I could only find some way to free her...

Joe stood over me, and let me soak in the hot water for some ten minutes, then he reached down, grabbed my wrist and hauled me upright. I released a groan for his benefit.

‘Dry yourself, and hurry it up, man. The boss wants you,’ and he went into the bedroom.

I took my time. Touching my bruised body was bad, but I dried myself, slowly put on my shirt, climbed into my trousers and moved slowly into the bedroom. I was surprised that my movements gave me no pain, but I was careful to groan at every step.

‘Want something to eat, man?’ Joe asked, and waved to a tray containing a jug of coffee and sandwiches.

I realized I was ravenously hungry. Careful to move slowly, I poured coffee and sipped.

‘What time is it, Joe?’

‘Night time,’ he said. ‘Those pills the boss gave you sure knocked you out.’

I was feeling stronger now. The coffee helped. I ate the sandwiches, standing and half bent over, while Joe sat on the stool, playing his harmonica. I felt even better when I had finished the meal.

‘You know something, man?’ Joe said, putting the harmonica in his shirt pocket. ‘You sure brought trouble on yourself. I told you the boss was smart, and you wouldn’t listen. I told you not to dig your own grave. Still, you wouldn’t listen. I told you, working for the boss, you would get on the gravy train, like me, but you wouldn’t listen. So you had to do it the hard way.’

I straightened slightly and looked at him.

‘I’m still warning you, Joe,’ I said. ‘A black boy means nothing to Klaus. You are going to be taken for a ride like me.’

He grinned.

‘That’s what you say. Come on. The boss wants you.’

As he caught hold of my arm and moved me to the door, the door swung open and Benny shoved Glenda past me. The shove was so violent she went sprawling, landing on hands and knees.

I started towards her, but Benny blocked me off, shoving his fist into my face. I had an urge to hit him, but this wasn’t the time. I let Joe lead me down the passage, and into the living-room.

Klaus was sitting at his desk.

Joe shoved me into a chair, facing Klaus, then stood back.

‘All right, Joe,’ Klaus said. ‘Wait outside.’

Joe left the room, closing the door behind him.

‘How do you feel, Mr. Lucas?’ Klaus asked, leaning forward and staring at me.

I sat, bent forward, my arms wrapped around my body.

‘Mr. Lucas!’ There was a snap in his voice. ‘Don’t put on an act for me! You asked for a beating, and you got it. Be careful, you don’t get another. In another four hours, you will lead my men into the bank. Is that understood?’

I lifted my head and stared at him.

‘Yes.’

‘There are things to do. Now once again, Mr. Lucas, I warn you: no more tricks if you want your woman to stay alive. Understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Very well. Now in case you are wondering if you will be reported missing by your secretary, I can tell you she has received a telegram saying you have been delayed, and she can expect you on Tuesday. That will give you plenty of time to go on the run.’

I was sure once the three had stripped out the bank, they would murder me. I had no illusions about that.

I didn’t say anything.

He pressed a bell button, and Harry came in.

‘Take care of him, Harry, and watch him.’

Harry grinned at me: cocky, confident and sexy.

‘Let’s go, buster,’ he said. ‘You’ve had your try, now, it’s strictly business.’

I got slowly to my feet, and still hunched forward, I followed him out of the room and into the hot, steamy night.

Harry switched on a powerful flashlight and walked with me across the lawn to a big barn. We entered.

The barn was lit by two naked bulbs, hanging from the rafters. In the middle of the barn, stood a security truck. It was a facsimile of the truck I had seen so often on Sharnville’s Main Street. Standing by it, were two tall, thick-set men, wearing the brown uniform of the Security Company.

‘Take a look, buster,’ Harry said. ‘What do you think?’

The two men eyed me as I looked them over, then I walked slowly around the truck. I couldn’t fault either the uniforms or the truck.

‘It’s a good job,’ I said.

Harry nodded and grinned.

‘I guess. Make sure, buster. Take another look. We don’t want to slip up, do we?’

‘It’s a good job,’ I repeated.

‘Watch this.’

He opened the driver’s door, leaned in and pulled a lever. The Security Company’s name, painted in red letters on either side of the truck, slid out of sight into the roof of the truck: another panel appeared with the lettering: Calo Furniture Co. The licence plates swivelled over to a Los Angeles number.

‘Cute, huh?’ Harry said. ‘We all take off in the truck, once its loaded.’

All except me, I thought.

‘Pretty neat,’ I said.

‘Okay. Now we’ll go to your pad and collect your gimmicks. Let’s go.’

We left the barn and crossed the lawn to where the Chevy was parked.

‘You drive, buster. I’ll watch you.’

With him sitting by my side, I started the engine and drove on to the dirt road.

Harry said, ‘I’ve been thinking about you, buster, and what you said to me. Where you went wrong was to trust Joe. Now Joe is a simple black boy. The boss has taken care of him, and when a simple black boy believes in someone, he stays with him. Everything you said to Joe went back to the boss. It was the boss’s idea for Joe to give you a gun. The boss is smart. He looks ahead all the time. He figured unless Joe gave you a gun, you would buy one for yourself. That’s looking ahead. It was a fine idea of yours to get Joe to get Glenda out. The idea was fine, but you went wrong in think-ink you could trust Joe. So what happens? You get a beating, and Glenda is still locked up.’

I didn’t say anything. I slowed at the end of the dirt road, and waited for a break in the traffic before moving on to the highway.

‘I’m not kidding myself,’ Harry went on, ‘that there’s three million in that vault. I think Klaus is as nutty as you say he is. Maybe there’s a million. A million split up by three isn’t so hot. Here’s a proposition, buster. You have Glenda and fifty thousand bucks, and I have the rest. Like the idea?’

Was this yet another con? I asked myself.

‘What would happen to Joe and Benny?’

‘Tell me something. If a gun went off in the vault could it be heard on the street?’

‘It wouldn’t even be heard in the bank.’

‘I was wondering about that. The idea I’ve got is when the cartons are packed, I knock off Joe and Benny, then I give you fifty grand and a gun. I take off in the truck with the rest of the loot, and you go out and knock off Klaus, and get Glenda. This car will be parked near the bank. You use it. How about it?’

And what is there to stop you shooting me after you have shot Joe and Benny? I thought.

‘How about the two men handling the truck?’

‘No problem. As soon as they drive into the cellar, they leave. They have their own getaway car. It is after the loot is in the truck that I go into action. I’ll be handling the money. I’ll put fifty grand in one of the cartons. As soon as I’ve knocked off Joe and Benny, I give you the carton and a gun, and you’re on your own, and I’m on my own.’

We were now driving down Sharnville’s main street. I turned off and headed for my apartment block, ‘Klaus will be on his own with Glenda?’

‘Sure. There’s no one else. All you have to do is to walk in and knock him off. Like the idea?’

If I lived to reach Klaus after the break-in, I liked it, but I trusted Harry the way I would trust a rattlesnake. It would be too easy for him. Bang — and Benny was dead. Bang — and Joe was dead, and bang again — I was dead.

‘Yes.’ I said. ‘I like it.’

He leaned forward and patted my knee.

‘Okay, buster. It’s a deal.’

I parked outside my apartment block, then shifted around in the driving seat so I could look at Harry. The light from the street lamp fell directly on his face.

‘Tell me something, Harry,’ I said. ‘Doesn’t it mean a thing to you to kill Joe and Benny? You could just shoot them down, and it would mean nothing to you?’

He grinned.

‘Let me put it this way, buster: to get Glenda, would you give a damn about putting a bullet in Klaus?’

For a long moment, I thought about this. If I didn’t kill Klaus, he would certainly kill Glenda and me. I was sure of that.

‘I guess you have a point,’ I said.

‘To get a million bucks, why should I care if I knock off a couple of stumblebums like Joe and Benny? Who would miss them anyway?’

I opened the car door and got out on to the sidewalk. Harry joined me, and we rode up in the elevator to my apartment.

While Harry lounged around, I quickly put together the gimmicks I needed to get into the bank. I found a plastic sack in the kitchen and put the gimmicks in it.

I looked at my watch. The time now was 01.10. Time was running out.

‘All fixed,’ I said, putting the sack on the table.

‘Got everything?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sure? We don’t want a foul-up because you’ve forgotten something.’

‘All fixed.’

‘Okay.’ He moved to a chair and sat down. ‘How about a drink?’

I went to my liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. I made two mild drinks, gave him one, and then went over and sat near him.

He lifted his glass.

‘Here’s to success. Now, listen, here’s what we do.’ He drank, put down his glass and leaned forward. ‘Klaus has told me to stay close to you. He doesn’t trust you, but don’t worry about that. You and me will go up to Manson’s office while Joe and Benny remain by the vault door. You do your telephone and cassette act. You open the vault and Joe gets to work. He really knows his stuff with a cutter. You say there are four hundred boxes to open. Benny and me will take the loot from the boxes as Joe opens them, and we’ll pack the the money in the cartons. You just keep out of the way. If Joe works fast, maybe I’ll get you to help fill the cartons. We work all through Saturday. We have around twenty-seven hours to bust into all the boxes. The truck arrives at eight o’clock, Sunday morning, and the driver and his pal take off. We load the cartons into the truck.’ Harry paused, and grinned. ‘While Benny and Joe are clearing up, I knock them off. I give you a gun and a carton with fifty grand in it, and you go after Klaus. Got it?’

I drank some of my whisky.

Would Harry shoot me as soon as I got them into the vault? My mind worked swiftly. I thought that unlikely. None of them would want a dead body with them in the vault for twenty-seven hours. No... when Harry had shot Joe and Benny, I would be next.

‘I’ve got it,’ I said.

‘Joe handles the cutter. Benny handles the cartons. You’ll handle your gimmicks and a sack of food. I’ve got that packed and ready. No point in starving. My chick will be ready to chat up the guard.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Another hour and a half.’

He got to his feet and began to roam around my room.

‘All that money!’ he exclaimed. ‘This is something I’ve dreamed about!’

‘Those bonds Klaus gave me,’ I said, watching him. ‘Joe tells me your father did them. They looked good to me.’

He paused and grinned at me.

‘Joe talks too much.’ He laughed, cocky and confident. ‘Yes, Klaus made you a sucker. Those bonds would look good to anyone. My father was an artist, but he was also stupid, He was so goddamn greedy, he got careless and he landed himself and me in jail. Working together, we could have made a fortune, but he tried to rush it, and a set of bonds were spotted. We had the Feds after us.’ He shrugged, ‘That’s the way the cookie crumbles, but this time, I’m not handling dud bonds, I’m handling real money.’

‘And what are you going to do when you get the money, Harry?’

‘A million — maybe more! With that kind of bread, a smart guy like me can drop out of sight.’ He gave me a sly grin, ‘With that kind of bread, I can buy me a regiment of women. That’s my thing — women. I’ll keep moving and keep screwing. I can’t wait to start.’

‘Once the police are alerted, Harry, they’ll come after you.’

He laughed.

‘They’ve come after me before. I’ll get lost this time. They only caught up with me last time because I had no money, but with a million — I’ve got no problems.’ He scratched at his beard. ‘What do you plan to do with fifty grand and Glenda?’

This was something I hadn’t thought about. Just suppose Harry wasn’t conning me, and he did give me fifty thousand dollars and a gun, and I did get Glenda... what would I do?

I knew the moment the police found I had left Sharnville, they would come after me, knowing that I was behind the bank break-in. But the bank break-in wouldn’t be discovered until 08.30 Monday morning. If Harry wasn’t conning me, I would have twenty-four hours to get out of the country.

‘I guess I’ll fly to Canada,’ I said. ‘Once there, I’ll have time to make plans.’

He nodded, and again his grin was sly.

‘Glenda’s a smart cookie. You two talk it over. She’ll fix something.’

I looked at my watch. I had another hour to wait.

‘I’m still feeling pretty bad, Harry. While we wait, I’ll rest on my bed. Okay with you?’

‘Go ahead.’ He poured himself another drink. ‘Waiting around is hell.’

I went into my bedroom and stretched out on the bed. I was sure Harry wouldn’t give me fifty thousand dollars, and I was even more sure he wouldn’t give me a gun. I lay still and thought. I concentrated my thoughts on the vault. Harry, Joe, Benny and I would be in the vault for some twenty-seven hours. I thought of the slide-up door in the vault that gave access to the cellar garage. I had so arranged this door that when it opened, the vault doors automatically closed. The electronic control which opened the slide-up door was operated by a press button, inserted in the wall by the slide-up door, and painted white, as the walls were painted white. The button was practically invisible unless you knew where to look for it.

I continued to think, and finally, a risky solution to my problem began to take shape.

I was still lying on the bed, still thinking, when Harry looked in.

‘Time to move, buster,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

I got off the bed, put on my jacket and went into the living-room. The time was now 02.35. I picked up the plastic sack containing my gimmicks and tools.

‘You’re sure you’ve forgotten nothing?’ Harry asked.

‘I’m sure.’

‘You feeling okay?’

‘I’ll survive.’

‘Benny’s watching the bank. When the guard goes around the back of the bank, Benny’s going to light a cigarette. I’ve got my chick staked out, waiting to chat up the guard. As soon as Benny lights a cigarette, we move in fast.’

We got in the elevator and rode down to the ground floor, I wondered, as I moved out of the elevator, if I had many more hours in which to live.

We went on to the street.

Car headlights flashed, then died.

‘That’s Joe,’ Harry said.

The Chevy was parked a few yards down the street. We reached it, then I saw Harry stiffen and stop short.

I could see Joe sitting at the driving wheel. There was another man, sitting in the back of the car.

‘Come along, Harry. Time is running out.’

With a cold sense of shock, I recognized Klaus’s clipped voice.

Klaus!

I heard Harry say, his voice uncertain, ‘You here, boss?’

‘I have decided to join in the fun,’ Klaus said. ‘You sit in front, Harry. Mr. Lucas will sit beside me.’

As I got into the car and sat beside Klaus, I saw he was holding a revolver which pointed at me.

As Harry dropped into the front passenger’s seat, Joe engaged gear and drove the car at a sedate pace towards the National Californian Bank.

As we drove through the deserted streets and swung into Main Street, my mind was working furiously.

Here was Klaus, seated by my side! What had happened to Glenda? Had he already murdered her? My insides cringed at the thought. If not, would he have left her unguarded?

Klaus said quietly, ‘I can read your thoughts, Mr. Lucas. Your woman is quite safe. I have arranged for a guard to look after her. When you have done your job, there will be no problem. You and she will be free to do what you wish.’

A psychopath!

If he imagined I believed one word he was saying, he was crazier than I believed he was!

Joe swung the car to the kerb and doused the lights. We were within two hundred yards of the bank.

From where I sat, I could see the bank’s guard, sitting in his sentry-box. I knew him, having once played golf with him: an ex-cop with a nice wife and four children.

Joe kept the engine running while we all sat watching the guard. The hands of the dashboard clock moved to 03.11.

‘Get moving, you sonofabitch,’ Harry muttered.

We waited another ten minutes, then the guard yawned, stretched himself, and stepped out of his sentry-box. He looked to right and left, then with his rifle slung on his shoulder, he began to plod slowly along the front of the bank.

Joe shifted into gear and moved the car forward, ‘Take it easy,’ Harry said. ‘Wait for Benny.’

Joe stopped the car.

Harry turned around to look at me.

‘You take the food sack and your gimmicks. Are you ready to open the bank doors?’

‘Yes,’ I said, and accepted the plastic sack he shoved over the seat at me.

We waited. The guard was now out of sight. Then across the way, in a dark doorway, a match flared up. Joe moved the car fast to within ten yards of the bank’s entrance and parked.

‘Get the doors open!’ Klaus snapped at me.

I slid out of the car, as Joe ran around to open the trunk. Benny joined us and grabbed a pile of collapsible cartons that Joe handed to him. I used the neutralizer and the bank doors slid open.

Klaus was the first to enter, and he paused, facing the rest of us as we rushed in.

‘Stay right here.’ He looked at me. ‘Are we safe here from the alarm beam?’

‘It’s six feet behind you,’ I said, and using the neutralizer, I closed the bank doors.

The whole operation had taken less than forty seconds, ‘Well, we’re in,’ Benny said, grinning,

‘You and Harry open the vault,’ Klaus said to me, regarding me with his ice-grey eyes. ‘No tricks, Mr. Lucas, or you won’t leave here alive. We’ll wait here.’

I dropped on hands and knees and crawled under the invisible beam, then I stood up. Following my movements, Harry joined me. Again using the neutralizer, I opened the elevator doors.

‘This will take a little time,’ I said to Klaus.

Klaus glared at Harry.

‘Watch him!’

I pressed the second floor button and the elevator doors swished closed, and the cage started its smooth journey upwards.

‘Jeeze!’ Harry exploded. ‘Who the hell would expect him to show up!’

The elevator doors opened. Using my flashlight, I walked fast to Manson’s office. I pushed open the door, and followed by Harry, I entered.

Keeping the beam of my flashlight away from the windows, I sat at Manson’s desk and reached for the red telephone. I knew exactly what I had to do so I didn’t have to think about it. My mind was busy with this unexpected arrival of Klaus.

As I began to cut and strip the telephone leads, Harry said, ‘If you and me don’t work together, buster, you won’t get Glenda, and I won’t get the bread.’

Without pausing in what I was doing, I asked, ‘Has he got someone to guard Glenda?’

‘Not a chance. Why should he? Who’s he got? She’s locked in, and she can’t get out. Don’t worry about her. Here’s what we do: I take care of Joe and Benny, and you take care of Klaus.’

I began to splice the wires of my gimmick to the cut wires of the telephone.

‘Take care of him? How?’

‘You any good with a gun?’

I paused and stared at him.

‘I’ve never handled a gun.’

He grimaced.

‘Klaus is good. You’ve got to get real close to him. If you get close enough, you can’t miss.’ He laid a flat automatic pistol on the desk in front of me. ‘We wait until the truck arrives tomorrow morning. Then while Joe and Benny are loading the loot into the truck, get close to Klaus and give it to him. Shoot through your jacket pocket. The moment you shoot, I’ll take Joe and Benny. That’s no problem. They’ll be handling the cartons. Okay?’

‘How do I know Klaus hasn’t already murdered Glenda?’

‘And land himself with her body? He plays smart. If he’s going to knock her off, he’ll get Benny to bury her. You don’t have to worry about her. She’s okay right now. You knock Klaus off, and all you have to do is to drive out there, pick her up, and be on your way.’

I didn’t believe a word he was saying, but I knew I had to go along with him for the time being. At least, now I had a gun.

I finished the telephone wiring. As I reached for the gun, I said, ‘Is it loaded?’

‘Sure.’ Harry took the gun from my hand, removed the clip and showed me the bullets. He replaced the clip. ‘All you have to do is to thumb back this catch, point the gun through your jacket pocket at Klaus’s guts and squeeze the trigger. Don’t pull or jerk the trigger... squeeze it.’

Knowing this was something I could never bring myself to do, I took the gun from him and dropped it into my pocket.

‘Have you got this fixed?’ Harry asked, and waved to the telephone.

‘It’s ready to go.’ Using the dial, I dialled 2-4-6-8. I waited, then heard clicking sounds. ‘That’s it! Three of the locks are now unlocked.’

‘Jeeze!’ He stared at the telephone. ‘It’s goddamn magic.’

Leaving the desk, I went to the wall behind Manson’s chair. I found the sliding panel and took out the tape cassette. Locating another hidden panel, I thumbed it open and fed the cassette into the slot. After a wait of some fifteen seconds, a green light showed.

‘The vault’s open now.’ I moved back to the desk and stripped out the gimmick and dropped it into the plastic sack.

Watching me, Harry said, ‘You really mean the vault’s open?’

I dropped the wire cutter into my pocket as I said, ‘It’s open.’

‘Once you know how, huh?’ He gave an uneasy grin. His face shone with sweat and his eyes were uneasy. ‘Watch Klaus. He’s real fast with a gun. For Pete’s sake, don’t miss him.’

My heart thumping, I rode down with him in the elevator.

The vault doors stood open. Klaus, Joe and Benny were already in the vault.

As Harry and I walked in, Klaus turned.

‘So far, Mr. Lucas, you have succeeded,’ he said. ‘Now if you will stand over there, and keep out of the way, the operation can proceed.’ He waved me to the far wall as Joe began to assemble his cutter, and Benny busied himself with the cartons.

Harry looked around the vault, lined with safe deposit boxes.

‘Some joint,’ he said.

‘Yes, Harry. Each of those little boxes leads to money,’ Klaus said.

I moved away and leaned my back against the far wall, close to the steel shutter that guarded the entrance to the cellar garage. Moving slightly to my right, my body concealed the control button that would open the shutter, and at the same time, shut the vault doors.

By now, Joe had the flame of the cutter alight.

‘Where do I start, boss?’ he asked.

Klaus pointed to the first box on the right wall.

‘Be careful, Joe. Just take the lock out.’

Joe adjusted his goggles, then turned up the flame. Klaus and the other two watched him. I moved my hand behind me and felt the control button. My fingers moved over it. This wasn’t the time, I told myself, and I felt sweat running down my spine.

It took Joe ten minutes before he cut out the lock, and as the lock dropped to the floor, he lowered the flame and stepped back.

‘That door’s hot,’ he said.

Harry came forward. He was now wearing an asbestos glove on his right hand. He jerked open the door of the box, then let out a curse.

‘Nothing!’

‘Keeping going, Joe,’ Klaus, said. ‘Try to make it faster. There are four hundred boxes to open. You’ve taken ten minutes to open one. At this rate, it’ll take you sixty hours and more to open the lot.’

Joe gaped at him.

‘You said to be careful, boss.’

‘Don’t be all that careful!’ Klaus snapped.

Joe had the next lock cut out in a little over five minutes. Again Harry moved forward and jerked open the door.

‘Hey!’

Benny came forward. The two men peered into the box.

‘Boy! Look! Money!’ Benny exclaimed.

‘Clear it, and get on!’ Klaus snapped.

While Harry was clearing the contents of the box, Joe began on the third box. This time, he got the lock cut out in four minutes. Without waiting for Harry to open the box, he moved to the fourth box.

‘Money!’ Harry exclaimed, and began to shovel neatly packed dollar bills into the carton Benny was holding.

I was watching Klaus. His thin face was tense. His eyes were riveted on Joe as Joe cut into the fourth box. There was an impatient expectancy about Klaus, like a man waiting anxiously for the result of vitally important news: the result of a diagnosis that could prove fatal.

At all our meetings, Klaus had been cold and calm, but not now. As the fourth lock burned out, and Harry jerked open the door of the box, Klaus moved forward. From the box, Harry pulled out three leather jewel cases and a stack of money. Klaus peered into the box, then muttering, he stepped back.

I felt suddenly sure that he hadn’t, as he had said, ‘come to join in the fun’. He was here to get something from one of these boxes: something that meant much to him.

Joe was working faster now. He cut out the fifth lock in under three minutes.

‘Be careful!’ Klaus snarled at him.

Harry opened the door of the box, then grunted.

‘Papers,’ he said in disgust.

Klaus pushed him aside, and pulled out various documents. He examined them quickly, then threw them on the floor. Then I knew for certain he was looking for some special document.

The sixth box yielded a pile of money and several documents. While Klaus was examining the documents, and Harry and Benny were putting the money into a carton, and Joe was busy cutting into the seventh lock, I pressed the control button, leaning my back hard against the shutter.

It happened in split seconds.

The vault door slammed shut. The shutter snapped up, and I fell into the garage.

I had a brief sight of Klaus, Harry, Joe and Benny, turning to stare at the closed doors of the vault. I scrambled to my feet, groped for the control button, my side of the wall. I found and pressed it, and as the shutter slammed shut, I saw Klaus, gun in hand, spin around, but he was just too late.

With my heart hammering, I pulled out my flashlight, snapped it on, and ran to the fuse box. I knew the right wire to cut. With a shaking hand, I inserted the wire cutter and cut the wire adrift.

Even if they found the control button inside the vault, the shutter would no longer work.

I had them trapped!

Faint sunlight came through the curtains and lit up the carpet. A blackbird shrilled a warning. The refrigerator in the kitchen started up with a growl.

I stirred and looked at my watch. The time now was 05.45. I had been sitting in a despairing heap in the living-room, crushed with the knowledge that I had been too late to save Glenda.

I was sure now that when I left with Harry, Benny had murdered her, and had buried her. My suspicions that Klaus would order her killing were now confirmed.

I thought of her, the only woman I had found that really meant something to me. I saw her again: her red hair, her eyes, and that lovely body.

Somewhere on this farm, she had been buried. I had to find her grave! I couldn’t continue to sit here, grieving for her. Getting to my feet, I walked out into the cool early morning air. The sun, now rising above the trees cast pale shadows.

I looked around. The barn? I crossed the lawn and entered the barn, then came to an abrupt standstill.

I had forgotten the faked security truck. There it was, standing in the middle of the barn. I crossed to it, and looked through the driver’s window. Lying on the bench seat were the two guards’ uniforms. I checked my watch. In twenty-four hours, if not less, the two men, posing as guards, would be arriving. Here was danger! If they drove the truck down to the bank as arranged, and found they couldn’t get into the cellar garage, what would they do? If the bank guard spotted them, trying to get in, would he set off an alarm?

My mind was in a turmoil, but the urgent need to find Glenda’s grave prevailed. I looked around the barn, examining the hard, dirt floor. She certainly wasn’t buried here. As I started to die door, I heard a car approaching.

My heart thumping, my hand in my pocket, gripping the butt of the gun, I moved out into the pale sunshine.

A shabby Chrysler car had pulled up close to where I had parked my car, and two men got out. I recognized them as the two men who were to act as guards.

Seeing me, they stopped short. They looked at each other, as I waved to them. They had seen me with Harry, and I hoped they would imagine I was one of the gang.

As they came forward, I went to meet them.

The taller of the two peered suspiciously at me.

‘Is it okay?’ he asked. With a feeling of relief, I was sure they thought I was working for Klaus.

‘The operation is off,’ I said, my finger on the gun’s trigger. ‘The boss told me to come out here, and tell you. You can forget it.’

The man looked at his partner,

‘You mean we don’t handle the truck?’

‘That’s it. The operation is off.’

The shorter of the two demanded aggressively, ‘How about the money?’

‘You keep it. There’s no problem.’

For a long moment they stared at me, then looking at each other, they grinned.

‘Boy! That’s good news! You tell the boss any time he wants us, we’re ready, okay?’

‘I’ll tell him.’

I watched them return to their car and drive away.

I spent the next hour, tramping around the farm. I found no newly dug ground. Defeated and crushed, I returned to the living-room of the house. The time now was 07.00.

I dropped into a chair. For some minutes, I submitted to my grief. Glenda was dead! I mourned for her for more than half an hour, recalling those precious moments we had spent together, then I began to accept the inevitable. Now, I asked myself, what was I going to do?

Going on the run with Glenda would have been an exciting challenge to me, but going on the run on my own was a frightening, lonely thought.

Forcing myself not to think of her, I began to consider my own position. Klaus and his three men were trapped in the vault. There was no escape for them, but there was also little chance of escape for me. Once the police swung into action, they would know I was the only possible suspect who could have broken into the safest bank in the world.

Suddenly, I didn’t care anymore. Being a fugitive, being hunted day and night without Glenda to sustain me, was more than I could face. I came to the decision that I had to talk to Brannigan. I must explain everything to him. He was my only hope, but I couldn’t wait until Tuesday when he was expected back at the bank. Sometime tonight, I must alert Manson that men were in the vault, but before doing this, I must talk to Brannigan. I had to find him, and find him fast.

I knew his home telephone number. Forgetting, in my anxiety, that the time was only 07.50, I dialled Brannigan’s number. There was a long delay, then a woman’s sleepy voice demanded, ‘Who is this for God’s sake?’

I had met Brannigan’s wife several times at cocktail parties: a tall, fifty-year-old, clinging to her youth, jet-black tinted hair, lean and madly interested in her health. I recognized her voice.

‘Mrs. Brannigan, excuse me. This is Larry Lucas. I...’

‘Larry Lucas?’ Her voice shot up a notch. ‘Well, for God’s sake! I haven’t seen you in months! How are you, Larry? Wonderful, I’m sure. God! How I wish I could say the same.’ Once Merle Brannigan got talking, it was impossible to stop her. ‘You wicked man! You woke me up! Now, let me tell you something, Larry. I can’t remember when I’ve had a good night’s sleep. You know what I mean? A good night’s sleep. I get pains in my knees, and there’s Farrell snoring his head off, and I lie awake, hour after hour, with pains in my knees every goddamn night. Isn’t that something? I talked to Dr. Schruder, and he says I walk too much. What a thing to say! I scarcely put one foot before I the other. Walk! That’s a four-letter word to me!’ She gave a trilling laugh. ‘What do you think, Larry? Farrell says I’m hysterical. Just imagine that. Hysterical! Last night, right against my will, and I’ll let you know, Larry, I really have a very strong will, but right against my will, I took three of those Valium — is that what you call them? — anyway, three sleeping pills. And what do you know? Those goddamn pills actually kept me awake! They did absolutely nothing for me, and do you know what I did? The pain was terrible, but in sheer desperation, I got right out of bed, and I went on my knees. God! How I suffered, but I did it, and I talked this problem over with God. Do you believe in God, Larry — of course you do! Well, I talked my problem over with God, and then I got back to bed, and for the first time in months, I went right off to sleep, and now you, you wicked man, have woke me up.’

‘Mrs. Brannigan,’ I said, trying to keep from yelling at her, ‘I’m truly sorry about waking you up, but I must contact Mr. Brannigan. It’s a bank emergency.’

‘You want to speak to Farrell?’

I closed my eyes, feeling sweat running down my face.

‘Yes, Mrs. Brannigan.’

‘Did you say it’s an emergency?’

‘Yes, Mrs. Brannigan. I must contact Mr. Brannigan.’

‘It’s Saturday, isn’t it, Larry? It’s not Monday, is it? God! I’m not awake yet. If it’s Monday, I have a date with my hairdresser at nine. Now, isn’t that a terrible time to have to go to a hairdresser? He’s just so busy...’

‘It is Saturday!’ My voice turned into a shout.

‘Larry, dear, please don’t shout. My nerves are all on edge. If it’s Saturday, how can there be a bank emergency? The bank closes on Saturday... at least, I think it does.’

Somehow, I controlled my voice.

‘I must contact Mr. Brannigan. Can you tell me where I can reach him?’

‘He’s off somewhere, playing golf. You know F.B. When he isn’t making money, he’s playing golf. I remember once, when we were talking to Jerry Ford, Farrell said...’

‘Mrs. Brannigan! I am asking for your help! Have you any idea where I can contact Mr. Brannigan?’

‘He never tells me anything.’ Her voice turned sulky. ‘You know, sometimes Farrell is very inconsiderate, but I guess most husbands, after they’ve been married for twenty-five years, get inconsiderate.’

‘So you don’t know where I can contact him?’

‘Well, if it is an emergency — and I can’t imagine what emergency — you could ask his secretary. She knows more about my husband’s movements than I do. Isn’t that terrible? Some chit of a girl knows more...’

‘Thank you, Mrs. Brannigan,’ and I hung up on her.

I picked up the telephone book, and found Lois Sheldon’s home number. A minute later, I was speaking to her.

‘This is Larry, Lois. It is urgent that I contact F.B. Do you know where he is?’

‘How urgent?’ Lois’s voice was brisk.

‘It’s an emergency to do with the bank. I can’t tell you more than that. F.B. would want this to be kept top secret, Lois. I must speak to him!’

‘I’ll see if I can get him. Give me your telephone number. I’ll call you back.’

‘Can’t you give me his telephone number?’

‘No. I’ll call you back.’

I read off the number on the telephone I was using.

‘You are sure this isn’t something that can be handled on Monday?’ Lois said. ‘F.B. will be wild if I disturb him for nothing.’

‘He’ll be even wilder if you don’t. Hurry it, Lois. I’ll wait,’ and I hung up.

It was while I was sitting at the desk, I remembered the incriminating photos of Marsh and myself. I began searching the desk drawers. One of them was locked. I went fast into the kitchen in search of tools. I found a long screw-driver in one of the kitchen closets. Returning to the living-room, I attacked the drawer, and in a few minutes, had it open.

Lying in the drawer, was the envelope containing the copies of the two tapes and my statement to Brannigan. In yet another envelope were the blackmail photographs showing Marsh and myself fighting, and better yet, the negatives.

I had seen a can of gasoline in the kitchen. I fetched it, then putting the two envelopes into the big fireplace, I soaked them in gasoline, then striking a match, set fire to them.

I stood back, watching the blaze.

When the fire had died down, I stirred the debris, poured on more gasoline, and again threw in a lighted match.

Finally, I was satisfied that nothing now remained of the blackmail pictures nor the tapes and my statement.

Still no telephone call from Lois!

I began searching the closets in the living-room. I came across the trenching tool, wrapped in plastic, that I had handled while they had buried Marsh. I went into the kitchen, found a rag dipped it in water and stripping off the plastic, I wiped the wooden handle free of my fingerprints. Then using the rag, I wiped over the surface of the desk, the arms of the chair and wrapped the rag around the telephone receiver. This was the best I could do.

I looked at my watch. The time now was 08.50. I thought only for a moment of Klaus, Harry, Joe and Benny trapped in the vault, then my mind shifted to Glenda.

I was sitting at the desk, grieving for her, when the telephone bell broke up my thoughts.

I snatched up the receiver. It was Lois.

‘Larry, I’m sorry, but I can get no reply,’ she said. ‘I’ve called three times. He’s either not answering the telephone or he isn’t there.’

‘Keep trying,’ I said feverishly. ‘This is a real emergency, Lois. I’ll wait.’

‘I can’t! My mother is sick, and I have to go to her. I have only a few minutes before I get my train!’

‘Then give me the number! I’ll keep trying!’

‘I can’t do that!’ A pause, then she went on, ‘Larry! He’s not playing golf! Every so often he goes off for a long weekend, but he doesn’t play golf. I don’t have to spell it out, do I?’

This shook me. I had always imagined Farrell Brannigan was above the way so many men lived.

‘I don’t give a damn! I must talk to him, Lois! A situation has come up that could cause a hell of a stink at the bank! I can’t tell you more than that, but I have to talk to him, and immediately!’

‘But he’s not answering!’ There was a wail in her voice, ‘It would be a breach of confidence if I gave you the number.’

‘He’ll thank you. I swear he will!’ I was shouting now.

‘You know he trusts me! This is an emergency! Now, come on, Lois! Give me the number!’

There was a long pause, then she said, ‘It’s 333-447-7880. I must go or I’ll miss my train,’ and she hung up.

I scribbled the number down on a memo pad, lying on the desk. 333 was the code number of Pennon Bay, a small beach resort some ten miles from Sharnville. Bill Dixon and I had once considered renting one of the many beach cabins there with the idea we could work together Sundays, and sunbathe at the same time. I had gone down there, but had decided there were too many screaming children around to allow us to work in peace. I remembered the Bay: sand, sea, palm trees, well-appointed bungalows, and a couple of decent restaurants. When I had inspected a few of the bungalows with the estate agent, I had thought many of them could be love nests, although most of them were weekend family accommodations. The more isolated bungalows, which I was sure were love nests, the agent told me regretfully weren’t for rent.

My hands unsteady, I picked up the telephone book and flicked through the pages until I came to Pennon Bay. There were not more than two hundred entries. Carefully, I went down the list of numbers until I came to 447-7880.

Brannigan’s mistress?

Picking up the telephone receiver, I dialled the number. I listened to the ringing tone for over a minute, then I hung up. I looked at my watch. The time now was 09.25.

I had to see Brannigan! I had to throw this whole mess into his lap! I was beyond caring what would happen to me. I couldn’t care less if he took the occasional weekend away from his wife, and found consolation with another woman. He had done so much for me in the past, and I felt that if I told him the whole sick story, he would help me... no one else could!

Leaving the house, I ran to my car, climbed in and started the engine. As I reversed to drive down the dirt road, I thought of the four men, trapped in the vault, then I thought of Glenda. Well, they were trapped. At least, her murder would be avenged!

At the end of the dirt road, I had a long, impatient wait before I could drive on to the highway. Already families were driving to the beaches. The usual Saturday morning exodus from Sharnville was on.

Finally, I was on the highway, but my progress was slow. Cars, with inflated rubber boats strapped to their roofs, were almost bumper to bumper. Kids, leaning out of car windows, screamed and yelled, anticipating the excitement of the sea. Bored-looking husbands, sitting behind the driving wheels, turned, from time to time, to swear at their children, while harassed-looking mothers, dragged the kids back on to their seats. It was a typical Sharnville Saturday morning.

Ahead, were Hampton Bay, Bay Greek, Little Cove, Happy Bay, and then Pennon Bay,

The most popular Bay was Little Gove. Once past the turn-off to Little Cove, the traffic thinned and I could increase speed. Only one car signalled to turn left at Pennon Bay. I followed it down the sandy road that led to the beach.

The car, ahead of me, pulled up outside a de luxe bungalow, facing the sea, and four kids tumbled out, and ran yelling across the sand while the driver got out to open the gate leading to the garage.

I kept on until I reached a parking bay, then got out of my car. I had no idea where to find Sea Road. I looked to right and left, then seeing a youngish man in swim shorts coming my way, I stopped him and asked.

‘Sea Road?’ He was overweight, and had a mat of black hair on his chest. He looked as intelligent as an amputated leg. ‘Sea Road?’ He scratched his hairy chest. ‘Yeah... Sea Road.’ He frowned. ‘Yeah... you go straight ahead, turn left, and you’re on it.’

‘Thanks,’ I said.

‘You’re welcome. Have a nice day,’ and he plodded away towards the sea.

I started off down the road, then as I was about to turn left, I heard a voice calling. I stopped and turned.

The hairy-chested man was running after me.

‘Bud, I’m sorry. You want Sea Road... right?’

The sun was now up, and in my city clothes, I was sweating.

‘Yes.’

‘My error, bud. You turn right.’

I could have strangled him.

‘You mean I go back to the intersection, and take the right-hand road?’

He scratched his chest, frowned, then nodded.

‘Yep. You’ve got it, bud.’ As I started back, he said, ‘you got kids, bud?’

Without pausing, I said no.

‘If you knew how lucky you are...’ His voice faded away as I kept on.

The bungalows along this beach road were more de luxe than the others I had passed. They stood in fair-sized gardens which were screened either by laurel hedges or stone walls. None of the bungalows had numbers: just names like The Nest, Happy Home, You & Me: crazy names people dream up for their houses.

I had walked some hundred yards when I came upon a teenage girl, swinging on the gate leading to a big bungalow. She was pencil thin, fair and wore jeans and a sweat shirt. She regarded me with worldly eyes and an impish grin.

‘Hello,’ she said.

I paused.

‘I’m looking for 14 Sea Road.’

Her grin turned to a sly little smile.

‘Are you looking for Sheila?’

‘That’s right. Do you know her?’

She pouted.

‘My mum won’t let me talk to her. I say hello to her when my mum’s not around.’

Fishing for information, I asked, ‘what’s your mum got against her?’

The girl wrinkled her nose.

‘My mum’s square. Just because Sheila has a boyfriend or two, my mum says she’s a whore.’

‘Where do I find her place?’

Again the sly little smile.

‘If I were you, I wouldn’t go there right now. She’s got her fat friend with her. He’s old and horrid looking, but her real boyfriend is super. When Sheila doesn’t want to swim, he comes swimming with me. When my mum’s not around,’ and she giggled.

Still fishing, I asked, ‘How do you know he is her real boyfriend? Her fat friend could be her real boyfriend, couldn’t he?’

‘That’s a load of crap. The fat one comes only once a month, but Harry lives with her.’

‘Harry?’

I felt a cold chill run over me. Then I told myself Harry was a common name, but instinct warned me to probe, ‘Harry — tall, thin with a beard?’

Her eyes opened wide.

‘Sure, do you know him?’ Holding the gate with one hand as she swung backwards and forwards, she tossed her long fair hair off her shoulders. ‘What’s your name? How did you meet Harry?’

‘You haven’t told me where I can find Sheila.’

‘Right at the end of the road. It’s the only bungalow with a number. When did you meet Harry?’

A raucous voice bawled from somewhere: ‘Jenny! Come in at once!’

The girl grimaced.

‘That’s my mum. See you,’ and climbing off the gate, she ran away towards the bungalow.

As I started down the sandy road, I was asking myself what was going on. I told myself I mustn’t jump to conclusions. There could be hundreds of bearded men called Harry.

My mind in a turmoil, I hurried on. At the end of the road was a high laurel hedge, screening a bungalow. On the gate was the number 14. I pushed open the gate and looked into the big garden. Ahead of me, up a crazy path was a low-lying, biggish bungalow. I walked quickly up the path until I reached the front door.

What kind of reception would I receive when Brannigan found I had tracked him down to his love nest? I hesitated for a brief moment, then thumbed the bell push.

Somewhere inside the bungalow, I heard the bell ring. Then, after a brief moment, the door jerked open.

Standing in the doorway, wearing white pyjamas, her red hair tousled, her big, green eyes wide, was Glenda.