Midnight Plus One - Lyall Gavin - Страница 39

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That settles one question,' the General growled. 'Have the police been asked to arrest Maganhard? Yes, they have. Pity. I'd planned making some money by finding out that for you.'

'You still can,' I said. They just might have got the idea out of the Journal de Geneve. Can you find out – without tipping them off that you know he's been picked up?'

The General just looked at me. Then: 'Sergeant, I don't think he was listening when I told him we'd been doing this since 1916.'

I grinned. 'Sorry. Anyway, I'll buy that. Did he say if anybody else had got arrested, too?'

'Only Maganhard.'

'Okay. I'll be down at that cafe. I'll ring you from there.' I dived out of the room before he could start haggling over prices.

It took me about five minutes to reach the Cafedes Grottes. Harvey and Miss Jarman were still there. I sat down beside them.

Harvey said: 'It's the end of the line, Cane. Maganhard's-'

'I know. Just tell me how it happened.'

He shrugged. 'I got them up here. He didn't buy that idea about changing his hair-style, but I got his glasses off. Lot of damn use that was.'

I nodded. 'Go on.'

'I stayed by myself, playing American tourist. A cop came in for a quick coffee, and I guess he spotted Maganhard then. Then Helen' – he nodded at Miss Jarman – 'she went out to do some shopping. Ten minutes later the cop and a sergeant came back, picked Maganhard up, and carted him off.'

'What did you do?'

His face was quite expressionless and his eyes were staring at me but not seeing me.

'Nothing,' he said calmly.

He had enough self-respect, and enough respect for my intelligence, not to offer any explanations.

Miss Jarman looked at me. 'And where wereyou all this time?'

'Drinking a morning glass of champagne. Come to that, what had happened to you?'

'If you recall, Mr Cane, you made us leave all our luggage behind in France. I had to buy some things.'

'And maybe make a few phone calls, too?'

She stared at me. After a time, she said in a small voice: 'Perhaps.'

Harvey slumped back in his chair. 'I could use a drink,' he said, softly but very positively. The girl jerked a scared look at him.

I said: 'Not here. Get on up to the Victoria – just above the Quai des Fleures, you know? Get up to room 510, and say I sent you. You'll find a character who looks as old as the Devil's grandfather, and about twice as crafty. Name's General Fay, and I'll tell him you're coming.'

'What are you going to do?' Harvey asked.

'See if there's a chance of bailing Maganhard out.'

When they'd gone, I walked over to the counter. Seeing me coming, the proprietor went through a mime of never having noticed me come in. He'd been watching the three of us like a nervous cobra.

I tossed a hundred-franc note on the counter.'C'est de la part du General, avec ses remerciements.'

He looked blank at me, and hungry at the note. I smiled reassuringly, but it wasn't the smile which convinced him.

I nodded at the telephone on the end of the bar and asked:'Vous permettez…?'

He smiled and bowed.'Monsieur…'

I dialled the Victoria's number and asked for General Fay – good and loud. I was sure he must have a private line as well, but any man whose work is collecting and selling information could never refuse any phone call.

The proprietor glanced at me and I held a finger alongside my nose and he did the same, both of us sharing a big secret and neither of us having the faintest idea of what it was.

The old voice whispered tinnily down the wire: 'Must be losing me grip. Occurred to me after you'd gone that I could have sold you the information that Maganhard was in the coop.'

'Well, I've just done you a good turn, too. I tipped the chap here a hundred francs.'

'Far too much. Don't expect me to refund it. D'you want to know what I found out?'

'Go on.'

'How much?'

'Put it on the bill. There'll be more yet.'

'All right. There's been no official request to arrest Maganhard. So they did it offtheir own bat. So we may be able to-'

'I'll do it. I want you to ring the duty inspector in ten minutes: say you've heard he's nicked Maganhard and you want to confirm it. Then let slip you know the French haven't asked for it. Say you've heard rumours they're dropping charges. Just get him worried. By the way – who's the duty inspector likely to be?'

'Camberet or Lucan. It's all on the bill, Cane. What are you going to do?'

Take a long shot. Oh – and I've sent a couple of people up to see you. Look after them until I get back, will you?'

'Damn you, Cane, I'm living in a hotel, not running one.'

'One of them's pretty.'

There was a crackle on the line that might have been his aged chuckle. 'All right, Cane. In ten minutes from' – he paused, obviously looking at his watch – 'now.'

'Now,' I said, and looked at my own watch. I hadn't meant it to be as precise as this, but at least it gave me a timetable.

I rang off and ran.

Four minutes later I was telling the police sergeant that my problem was extremely important, highly confidential, remarkably delicate, and exceptionally urgent. That made it normal; he'd have thrown me out as a practical joker if I hadn't said something like that.

Which still left me with the problem of getting in to see Inspector Lucan – he was the one holding the fort, I'd learned – inside four minutes. I'd need the last two for softening him up before the General rang.

But at least I knew that if Lucan was busy, it could only be on the Maganhard problem. It was Montreux's slack time: mid-way between the ski tourists and the summer tourists, with no traffic troubles and, since there were no tourists to give them cover, none of the con men and jewel thieves who work the hotels in season.

The sergeant sighed, picked up the phone, and asked me my name.

I said:'Robert griflet. SureteNationale.'

Lucan was a thin, neat man with a dark moustache, dark hair greased flat, and bright, beady eyes. He was naturally a brisk, suspicious man, but trying hard to be what he thought a Montreux inspector should be: slow, courteous, and inscrutable.

I liked his phoney character best. If he got brisk and suspicious about Robert griflet, I wasn't likely to have any choice about how I spent the next seven years.

I dealt him my to-whom-it-may-concern letter and followed it up, horse, foot and guns. I wanted him on the defensive, in the hope he'd forget to ask for mycarte d'identite. The photograph of griflet was pretty old and didn't look much like him now – but it looked a damn sight less like me.

I understood he'd arrested Maganhard? Splendid. Could he find a couple of charges to hold him on, while my bosses at the Suretemade up their minds to ask for extradition? I was sure they would – eventually, anyway. Well, probably.

He frowned suspiciously at me, but went hastily back to looking inscrutable. Then he asked about the rape charge. Surely- I shook my head with what I hoped was a look of weary despair. We'd been trying to find the woman who'd laid the charge, and she seemed to have skipped. Which led one to suspect thatperhaps… and one couldn't be too careful when arresting multi-millionaires, could one?

He smiled, but only with his teeth. He knew all about being careful with multi-millionaires – any Montreux cop would. And he'd probably been getting the same song-and-dance from Maganhard for the past half hour.

He asked me what I expected him to do?

I sneaked a glance at my watch: if the General was on time, I had about fifty seconds left. I explained that I just wanted Maganhard kept on ice for a couple of days. Dream up a holding charge. What about illegal entry into Switzerland? – I could bet Maganhard didn't have an entry stamp on his passport.

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