rip the hull of small craft in the hands of inexperienced sailors. But a good boatman could land a passenger dry-shod on the rocks with the swell of one wave, ride seaward out of danger on the next, and Jules put Roche ashore in that way while Blake watched. As the tiny figure scrambled up the rocks and the launch backed away toward safety, he said loudly, ‘Holtz!’
The pounding below decks stopped immediately. Holtz said, ‘What is it?’
‘Why didn’t you shoot m e when I tried to ram the break- water?’ Blake kept his voice loud.
‘It wasn’t necessary. You were behaving according to pattern. I expected you to make an attempt to oppose me before you saw how useless opposition was, and I was fully prepared to handle you as I did.’ The gang leader laughed, a short bark like that of a fox. ‘Besides, you are still useful.’
‘I’m glad of that.’
‘I did not mean to imply that you are essential.’ Holtz was enjoying himself. ‘If you are weighing the possibilities of a venture before Jules returns, give it up. He is quite capable of shipping the launch without your help - as I am of depriving him of it.’
The casual tone of the threat did not detract from the reality of its promise. Blake could only hope that Bruno had heard it, but there was no more pounding.
So there goes his chance to earn a thousand dollars, he thought.
It would still be four or five minutes before the launch came alongside. Bruno might very well have been able to batter his way out of confinement in that time. He would have died, in all probability, attacking Holtz, but it could have been to some purpose. He might have given Blake his own chance, freed the rest of them, saved Freddy ’s money. Freddy would have been grateful for the sacrifice, as he would be unable to understand why Blake had stopped it.
He watched the launch approach. Not even aware of what his hands were doing, he got a bumper ready to fend the boat ’s bow from the Angel ’s hull when Jules brought the launch alongside. Holtz, looking down from the bridge wing, grinned at the unconscious action. Blake was behaving predictably, as Holtz ’s pawns were supposed to behave.
Jules cut the launch ’s motor, hooked the davit falls into place, and came swinging up to the cruiser ’s deck hand over hand. Holtz said calmly, ‘When you have the launch aboard, lock the captain in his cabin and come up to the pilot-house. If he gives you any trouble, kill him.’
The pistol barrel resting on the bridge rail glinted dully in the sunlight.
George Saunders did not spend a great deal of time in Monaco, and for that reason knew Neyrolle only casually. They did not particularly like each other. Neyrolle thought the reporter opiniona ted and overbearing, George con sidered the sous-chef cauti ous, conservative and old-woman ish. But George, who spoke good colloquial French, knew the importance of a source of information at police head-quarters, and Neyrolle recognized the power of the Press. They got along, after a fashion.
It was unusual for Neyrolle to telephone George ’s hotel and ask him to stop by Sûreté Publique . George, who had slept most of the day after his night out with Freddy, went to the appointment with some curiosity. He found the sous-chef frowning over a copy of Michaud ’s complaint to the Com mandant du Port about the abandonment of the Angel ’s crew. A transcript of Cesar ’s dissimilar report of the same happening lay on his desk.
‘One does not wonder that Justice is commonly portrayed with a blindfold,’ Neyrolle said. He handed George copies of the two papers. ‘Read these, then tell me which one you, as a journalist, would consider more nearly an approximation of the truth. Not the truth in itself, but possibly leaning in that direction.’
George took the statements, his interest sharpening as he read. When he had finished, he said, ‘The steward ’s story is nonsense, of course. He ’s seen too many American movies. It
The pounding below decks stopped immediately. Holtz said, ‘What is it?’
‘Why didn’t you shoot m e when I tried to ram the break- water?’ Blake kept his voice loud.
‘It wasn’t necessary. You were behaving according to pattern. I expected you to make an attempt to oppose me before you saw how useless opposition was, and I was fully prepared to handle you as I did.’ The gang leader laughed, a short bark like that of a fox. ‘Besides, you are still useful.’
‘I’m glad of that.’
‘I did not mean to imply that you are essential.’ Holtz was enjoying himself. ‘If you are weighing the possibilities of a venture before Jules returns, give it up. He is quite capable of shipping the launch without your help - as I am of depriving him of it.’
The casual tone of the threat did not detract from the reality of its promise. Blake could only hope that Bruno had heard it, but there was no more pounding.
So there goes his chance to earn a thousand dollars, he thought.
It would still be four or five minutes before the launch came alongside. Bruno might very well have been able to batter his way out of confinement in that time. He would have died, in all probability, attacking Holtz, but it could have been to some purpose. He might have given Blake his own chance, freed the rest of them, saved Freddy ’s money. Freddy would have been grateful for the sacrifice, as he would be unable to understand why Blake had stopped it.
He watched the launch approach. Not even aware of what his hands were doing, he got a bumper ready to fend the boat ’s bow from the Angel ’s hull when Jules brought the launch alongside. Holtz, looking down from the bridge wing, grinned at the unconscious action. Blake was behaving predictably, as Holtz ’s pawns were supposed to behave.
Jules cut the launch ’s motor, hooked the davit falls into place, and came swinging up to the cruiser ’s deck hand over hand. Holtz said calmly, ‘When you have the launch aboard, lock the captain in his cabin and come up to the pilot-house. If he gives you any trouble, kill him.’
The pistol barrel resting on the bridge rail glinted dully in the sunlight.
George Saunders did not spend a great deal of time in Monaco, and for that reason knew Neyrolle only casually. They did not particularly like each other. Neyrolle thought the reporter opiniona ted and overbearing, George con sidered the sous-chef cauti ous, conservative and old-woman ish. But George, who spoke good colloquial French, knew the importance of a source of information at police head-quarters, and Neyrolle recognized the power of the Press. They got along, after a fashion.
It was unusual for Neyrolle to telephone George ’s hotel and ask him to stop by Sûreté Publique . George, who had slept most of the day after his night out with Freddy, went to the appointment with some curiosity. He found the sous-chef frowning over a copy of Michaud ’s complaint to the Com mandant du Port about the abandonment of the Angel ’s crew. A transcript of Cesar ’s dissimilar report of the same happening lay on his desk.
‘One does not wonder that Justice is commonly portrayed with a blindfold,’ Neyrolle said. He handed George copies of the two papers. ‘Read these, then tell me which one you, as a journalist, would consider more nearly an approximation of the truth. Not the truth in itself, but possibly leaning in that direction.’
George took the statements, his interest sharpening as he read. When he had finished, he said, ‘The steward ’s story is nonsense, of course. He ’s seen too many American movies. It
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