in his pocket.
“I want you to wear hoods. You must look frightening,” Archer went on. “And guns, of course. Is that a problem?”
Segetti smiled.
“Hoods and guns are no problem. I understand what you want.”
“The kidnapping will be in three days” time: that is on the evening of the 18th. I want you two to be at the Hotel de Suisse, Lugano at 14.00 on the 18th. I’ll be staying there. We will finalize all the details when we meet. Bring the guns and the hoods with you. Is that understood?”
Segetti nodded.
“You have a car?”
Segetti nodded again.
Archer produced a five-hundred franc bill.
“This will take care of your expenses. So it is agreed: we meet at the Hotel de Suisse, Lugano at 14.00 on the 18th.”
“It is agreed,” Segetti said, pocketing the five-hundred franc bill.
While they had been talking, Archer had become more and more aware that Segetti's companion had said nothing, but had sat, staring down at his hands.
“And you, Belmont? Is it agreed?” Archer asked, a snap in his voice.
“Jacques always agrees when I agree,” Segetti said quickly. Both men got to their feet. “Then we see you later, Mr. Archer.” With a little wave of his hand, he walked from the room, followed by Belmont.
Bernie came into the room.
“Is it satisfactory, Mr. Archer?”
“I think so. Look, Bernie, I did a good job for Seigal,” Archer said. “He assured me you fixed things. I’m relying on you. Are you absolutely sure these two men can be relied on?”
“Cross my heart and cut my throat. Don’t worry about a thing, Mr. Archer. You pay them fair, and they will deliver.”
Archer, still uneasy, got to his feet.
“They are getting eight thousand francs for less than an hour’s work. Do you call that fair?”
Bernie nodded.
“That’s big money for them. Yes, Mr. Archer, you have no problems.”
Archer shook hands.
“Could you get me a taxi?”
“There’s one right outside, Mr. Archer. I hope to see you again.”
When Archer had driven away, Segetti and Belmont came out of the toilet where they had been waiting for Archer to go.
“What goes on?” Segetti asked, joining Bernie at the bar.
“This could be an interesting and very profitable setup,” Bernie said. “This fat fink, Archer, once worked for Herman Rolfe who was loaded with the stuff. Keep in touch with me, Max. I want to know who this guy is who wants to be kidnapped, and I want to know who his girlfriend is. As soon as you know where the kidnapping is to take place, telephone me. Understand?”
Segetti nodded.
“We’ll want hoods and guns.”
“Is that so terrible?” Bernie grinned. “I’ve got hoods and guns. What I want is information.”
* * *
As Helga, followed by Grenville, walked through the Geneva customs, she saw Hinkle waiting at the barrier.
Although only fifty-two years of age, Hinkle looked considerably older. He was short, rotund and balding. White wisps of hair softened his florid complexion. He had had the thankless task of nursing Herman Rolfe, a polio victim, for fifteen years. When Rolfe had died, Hinkle had transferred his loyalty to Helga, whom he admired.
The news she had told him that she was in love disturbed him. He was well aware of her weakness for men, but seeing her approach, looking radiant, he thought hopefully this could be, at last, the real thing, but then, looking beyond her at Grenville, he had immediate doubts. This tall, too handsome, too suave man sent up a red light in Hinkle’s mind.
“Dear Hinkle!” Helga said, grasping his hand. “How I have missed you!” Turning to Grenville, she went on, “Chris, this is Hinkle whom I have told you about.”
Grenville had no time for servants. He nodded distantly, then said, “The luggage, Helga. Perhaps he will take care of it,” and gave Hinkle the luggage stubs as if conveying a favour.
“Yes, sir,” Hinkle said.
From that moment, they were enemies.
Hinkle turned to Helga.
“The new Rolls is just
“I want you to wear hoods. You must look frightening,” Archer went on. “And guns, of course. Is that a problem?”
Segetti smiled.
“Hoods and guns are no problem. I understand what you want.”
“The kidnapping will be in three days” time: that is on the evening of the 18th. I want you two to be at the Hotel de Suisse, Lugano at 14.00 on the 18th. I’ll be staying there. We will finalize all the details when we meet. Bring the guns and the hoods with you. Is that understood?”
Segetti nodded.
“You have a car?”
Segetti nodded again.
Archer produced a five-hundred franc bill.
“This will take care of your expenses. So it is agreed: we meet at the Hotel de Suisse, Lugano at 14.00 on the 18th.”
“It is agreed,” Segetti said, pocketing the five-hundred franc bill.
While they had been talking, Archer had become more and more aware that Segetti's companion had said nothing, but had sat, staring down at his hands.
“And you, Belmont? Is it agreed?” Archer asked, a snap in his voice.
“Jacques always agrees when I agree,” Segetti said quickly. Both men got to their feet. “Then we see you later, Mr. Archer.” With a little wave of his hand, he walked from the room, followed by Belmont.
Bernie came into the room.
“Is it satisfactory, Mr. Archer?”
“I think so. Look, Bernie, I did a good job for Seigal,” Archer said. “He assured me you fixed things. I’m relying on you. Are you absolutely sure these two men can be relied on?”
“Cross my heart and cut my throat. Don’t worry about a thing, Mr. Archer. You pay them fair, and they will deliver.”
Archer, still uneasy, got to his feet.
“They are getting eight thousand francs for less than an hour’s work. Do you call that fair?”
Bernie nodded.
“That’s big money for them. Yes, Mr. Archer, you have no problems.”
Archer shook hands.
“Could you get me a taxi?”
“There’s one right outside, Mr. Archer. I hope to see you again.”
When Archer had driven away, Segetti and Belmont came out of the toilet where they had been waiting for Archer to go.
“What goes on?” Segetti asked, joining Bernie at the bar.
“This could be an interesting and very profitable setup,” Bernie said. “This fat fink, Archer, once worked for Herman Rolfe who was loaded with the stuff. Keep in touch with me, Max. I want to know who this guy is who wants to be kidnapped, and I want to know who his girlfriend is. As soon as you know where the kidnapping is to take place, telephone me. Understand?”
Segetti nodded.
“We’ll want hoods and guns.”
“Is that so terrible?” Bernie grinned. “I’ve got hoods and guns. What I want is information.”
* * *
As Helga, followed by Grenville, walked through the Geneva customs, she saw Hinkle waiting at the barrier.
Although only fifty-two years of age, Hinkle looked considerably older. He was short, rotund and balding. White wisps of hair softened his florid complexion. He had had the thankless task of nursing Herman Rolfe, a polio victim, for fifteen years. When Rolfe had died, Hinkle had transferred his loyalty to Helga, whom he admired.
The news she had told him that she was in love disturbed him. He was well aware of her weakness for men, but seeing her approach, looking radiant, he thought hopefully this could be, at last, the real thing, but then, looking beyond her at Grenville, he had immediate doubts. This tall, too handsome, too suave man sent up a red light in Hinkle’s mind.
“Dear Hinkle!” Helga said, grasping his hand. “How I have missed you!” Turning to Grenville, she went on, “Chris, this is Hinkle whom I have told you about.”
Grenville had no time for servants. He nodded distantly, then said, “The luggage, Helga. Perhaps he will take care of it,” and gave Hinkle the luggage stubs as if conveying a favour.
“Yes, sir,” Hinkle said.
From that moment, they were enemies.
Hinkle turned to Helga.
“The new Rolls is just
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