Read Online One Minute Past Eight by George Harmon Coxe - Free Book Online Page A

of the road with a couple of slugs in his head. He was ready to pay off, with a bonus, but he was still running scared. He didn’t know if we’d accept his offer and he was afraid to handle it alone. He was even afraid we’d find out he was in Caracas. So he hired Baker to front for him and sent him to Barbados as a decoy.”
    He put out his cigarette. “Well, it happens we’re ready to deal. We take the dough and spread the word that Grayson found out he couldn’t beat our system and paid off with a bonus to save his neck, In this country the deal works out because they don’t care how much money you take out. No smuggling. Just pack the cash in a bag, and take off. They don’t care in the States either and it doesn’t have to be dollars. We’d even accept payment in bolivars because it’s a real hard currency.”
    He hesitated and then stood up and by that time the rest of the picture was crystal clear in Jeff’s mind. Apparently his stepbrother had done reasonably well since coming to Caracas, but he’d had no intention of returning—until Baker had located him and word had come of his inheritance. To claim it he had to return to Boston, and because the gain there was greater, he had raised the cash. He had made his deal through Baker, and it seemed obvious that he must have brought the cash here to this room tonight.
    “It’s a good motive for murder,” he said, half to himself, “The first one we’ve had.”
    “What?” Webb said.
    “Cash. A lot of cash.”
    “Somebody beat me to it, hunh?” Webb’s grin was tight and mirthless as he stepped over to the desk and picked up his gun and the shells. As he started to load them Cordovez stopped him,
    “Please,” he said politely. “Not until you leave, señor.”
    Webb understood the suggestion. He tucked the revolver inside his jacket and pocketed the shells. “You’re pretty handy with one of these, Julio.”
    “Thank you,” Cordovez made a small bow. “I have had much practice. For many years I was an assistant chief with Segurnal… And what will you do now?”
    “Sleep on it, I guess,” Webb said. “I came a hell of a long ways to make a collection and I’m not going back empty-handed if I can help it. I think Baker had the dough ready for me. Somebody took it.”
    He stopped at the door and turned the bolt. “I’m going to start looking, Julio. I think our friend Grayson had better start looking, too. Because he’s still in hock. He knows it and I know it.… See you,” he said and went out.
    Cordovez buttoned his jacket. “A very determined young man,” he said. “And possibly a dangerous one. Do you agree?”
    Jeff said he agreed and smiled to himself at the little detective’s phrasing. He looked round the room and suddenly he had no further desire to search it. He was tired, depressed, and discouraged. And in the morning, or sometime soon, he would have to face his stepbrother, a thought which served only to heighten his discontent.
    “All right, Julio,” he said. “Let’s forget it for tonight. Can you be here in the morning?”
    “I will be here on the front terrace when you come down for your breakfast.” He made his customary bow. “Buenas noches” he said and started along the hall.
    Jeff watched him make the turn into the corridor leading to the elevators before he got out his key. He unlocked his door and then stopped as something caught his eye on the floor. He knew then that a note had been thrust under the door and stepped back into the lighted hall to read it. It was very short and had no salutation:
    Please stop at 320 when you get in no matter how late. K.H.

 
6
     
    KAREN HOLMES wore a pastel-gray flannel robe that was securely belted and buttoned at the neck. Ballet-type slippers cut her height down so that the robe trailed slightly, and when Jeff followed her into the room he saw that her face had a pink, scrubbed look and the corners of her eyes were sleepy.
    “Thank you for coming,” she said.