Ransom Game (22 page)

“One last question: whose finances was he checking on?”

“Sorry. That's completely slipped my mind.” His tongue was hanging out for more money. And I had three bucks between me and starvation.

“Look, my friend. I'm not playing games and asking questions to pass the time. I want that name and I want it now. You'll live longer, believe me. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life today, you better tell me everything. I've just seen one dead man an hour ago, and he thought he was as tough as he had to be to survive. I don't think you're in his league. Let's have it.”

“Okay, okay. Don't get excited. Yeah, I remember now. Yeah, it was Mr. Jarman he wanted checked by Mr. Avery. Yeah, it was Mr. Jarman all right.”

“Good. Now, when he got back here, what did the old man do?”

“He took the suitcase—he'd fastened it together again—and went into the house with it. He didn't say good night, or give me orders to put the car away, he just walked away like I wasn't there.”

“Did you ever see the suitcase again?”

“Yeah, a couple of weeks after the old man's funeral, Miss Gloria gave me a lot of things to get rid of. The suitcase was there with a bunch of other stuff I took to town.”

“You drive for Mr. Jarman now?”

“Yeah, and Miss Gloria when she wants me.”

“Well, I'd keep this little talk under your cap, if I were you. You may be a valuable witness, so you'd better protect yourself so that you'll live to testify.”

“I don't scare easy.”

“Suit yourself.” I grinned at him and went up to Helen's entrance. The chauffeur's eyes burned a .45 calibre hole in the back of my coat. I rang Helen's bell.

TWENTY-FIVE

She was wearing a dress that was striped blue and white, but the effect was softer than stripes from any distance. Her eyes were smiling when she saw it was me, and she opened the door wider to let me pass. I remembered the yellow stairwell leading up to her apartment, but couldn't recall anything about the apartment itself. The main room, once I stood in it, was bright and high-ceilinged. I recognized two of Gloria's doll pictures on one wall, and another above a dark marble fireplace. Helen reached for my hands as soon as she came up to me fixing a firm kiss on my mouth. I was taken by surprise. I'd thought that all this closeness belonged to days and nights of getting shot at, but not just in cold blood and just for the fun of it. As she pulled away, her eyes were scanning mine like she was looking for a lost eyelash or something.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here. I was worried. The others are in the library waiting for you. Do you want a fast drink here before we go down? I've had one.” I shook my head. I kept drink for emergencies, and meeting the Jarmans in their library didn't scare me as much as maybe it should have. She finished off a last swallow from an Old-Fashioned glass, fussed with her hair in front of the mirror a second, then started laughing and pointing at my knees. I looked down and saw for the first time that my usually baggy knees were also dirty from the bad housekeeping in Pop's hole. I tried to dust them off with my hands.

“Could I try this in your bathroom?”

“Second door on your left, if you insist on not remembering.” I found it and managed to transfer the stains to Helen's towels. Short of running them under the tap, I was helpless to figure out the next step. I put a comb through my hair while I was in there, and got rid of more of Pop's hole in the sink. In the medicine chest I could see that Helen plucked her eyebrows and took sleeping pills infrequently. She also went in for the same contact lens paraphernalia that Jennifer Bryant did. I hadn't even noticed.

When I came out, she gave me a thorough inspection, made me turn around and finally declared me fit to be seen. She took my hand and led me through the corridors to the front part of the house.

The library stood behind two cream-coloured doors which opened together. It was a big room, but made cosy by lots of books in tall shelves and the right sort of leather furniture to go with them. It was an interior decorator's library, with shelves of books that looked like they opened up into something, but here and there were corners that looked like they'd seen use. There's nothing worse than rich people with taste and a feeling for the first-rate. It seems unnatural. Gloria Jarman was on her feet as we came into the room and smiled as she walked toward me. “Mr. Cooperman, I'm so glad you were able to make it.” She was trying on her mother's voice again, and I was falling back on tunnel vision to keep things straight.

Bob Jarman bounced up from his leather seat and crossed to me with his hand outstretched before the chair he'd jumped from got a chance to take a breath.

“Good to see you again, Cooperman.”

“Nice to see you, Mr. Jarman.”

“That's ‘Bob,' remember. Your name's Ben, isn't it?”

“Uh huh. Feel free.”

“Can I fix you something?” I shook my head, but he headed for the bar trolley and freshened a drink for his wife and himself. He gave me a look, and I let him twist my arm into taking a Scotch with water. He told me it was a single malt. I guessed he saved doubles for the family.

“I wonder, Mrs. Jarman,” I said, when I had burned my tongue on the Scotch—Jarman hated putting in the water, I could see that—“if you could tell me where you were around noon today. I know I asked you over the phone before. But it's become more important. I'll explain in a minute.”

“At noon? You mean when I was supposed to be meeting Johnny Rosa?”

“That's right.”

“Why, I was here. In my studio, I mean. I was working all day. Until just an hour ago, as a matter of fact.”

“I know that a husband makes a weak witness, Ben, but I'll vouch for Gloria's being in her studio. I dropped in to see her just about that time. Why all the interest? And why on earth is Rosa still bothering Gloria?”

“Because of the money.”

“The money? You mean the ransom money? I thought that was a scheme to sell newspapers. Surely … Look, Ben, the first time I met you, you said that you weren't going to reopen the kidnapping case. Nobody pressured you; that was your own idea. But now it sounds as though it's not that clear anymore. Could you explain?” He gave me that Steinway smile of his again; all eighty-eight teeth were bared but there was no warmth in it. It was like he'd learned humanity through a mail-order kit. Then he said: “How do you like that Scotch?” like he heard me thinking. I nodded my appreciation again, more vigorously this time, and Jarman turned his smile to his wife. She turned a well-composed face toward him. Her green eyes were very bright, set off by a red silk dress which did for her what Calvin Klein jeans never could.

“It would help, Mr., I mean Bob, if you could tell me a little about the ransom, how it was gathered, whether the notes were marked, what denominations, and so on.”

“Of course. Its going back a long time, but I think I can remember most of it. George, Gloria's father, got the money. He was a director of the Upper Canadian Bank, you know, and he was able to raise the money after making a few frantic calls. It was a long weekend, you remember, and it was hard to find the right people at short notice. The original demand in the note had been for a million dollars in small bills. Not only is that a lot of money, Ben, it is a very heavy bundle to carry around. The police suggested that as long as we filled suitcases with the used bills they'd asked for, we wouldn't have to worry about haggling at the point of exchange. The suitcases were old ones belonging to George, ordinary Mark Cross, brown, with three clasps and straps. We were able to stuff in only two hundred and fifty thousand dollars into each. The police added a tracking device which I guess is now quite common, but was then an experimental idea. It was a small bug inside the lining of one of the pockets. Because it was the latest thing, just introduced from the States, and because time was not on our side, no exact record of the bills was taken. We didn't get serial numbers, because we were sure that the bug would prevent the money straying very far. That was a serious error. George, of course, had to repay that money himself.” He paused to take a sip from his drink. Gloria Jarman crossed her legs, and I was once again distracted. The two of them looked so comfortable sitting opposite me. I had thought that Helen had followed me into the room, but she had stayed behind. I faced them without allies. They both smiled at me expectantly for my next question.

“I know a little about Mrs. Jarman's background before the kidnapping, Bob, but I know next to nothing about you. I suppose I should read the Wall Street and Bay Street papers more avidly.”

“Well, let's see. I didn't come up the hard way. My family is an old one without being a very wealthy one. I can't remember a time when I wasn't interested in business. I follow some sports. I ride. I've joined the local hunt. I used to water ski. I like electronic gadgets. That about covers it. You know that I'm a director of Archon Corporation.”

“Bob's going to be president, aren't you?” Gloria said with pride showing in her cheeks,

“In time. I'm a vice-president now, and with Gloria's family association with Archon and her block of shares added to my own, together we have more clout than any other share-holding group. Now may I freshen your drink?” He jumped up again as he asked, and was away to the trolley.

“You've been working on this Johnny Rosa business for some time, Ben?” he asked over his shoulder while pouring.

“Since the beginning of the week. A lot of people have been looking for him: his old partners in crime, the parole board, a couple of mobsters, as well as my late client.”

“Yes, her search didn't do her very much good, did it?”

“Looks that way.”

“And with so many people looking, Ben, may I ask what makes you think that you have the edge?” Jarman smiled this question at me, and I could see Gloria stiffen slightly in her chair.

“I can see why you might ask that, but as it happens, I'm the only one of the hunters who's had any luck so far. I've found Johnny Rosa.”

TWENTY-SIX

As a sensation, what I said didn't make the casements rattle. No one dropped his glass, no guilty looks were exchanged. Gloria was the first to speak.

“Does that mean he will go back to prison?”

“He has violated his parole, dear. Society has to be protected.” Jarman looked at me thoughtfully. “I thought you said a few minutes ago that you'd never met Mr. Rosa? Did I misunderstand you?”

“No. You heard right. I found Johnny Rosa, but he was in no condition to talk to me. He was dead.” Both showed interest. It was like I was telling them the plot of a television program. I went on in a way that I thought might bring it all home to them. “Not only was he dead, but he was killed, murdered on the property of the family farm, Mrs. Jarman. I found him today in what you call Pop's hole.”

“That's terrible. When did it happen? I mean, I'm truly shocked. That awful man. But I don't understand how he came to be found at the farm?”

“You're sure that it's Rosa?” Jarman asked.

“Well, it's somebody wearing his wallet. I just came from there. The police will fill in the details when they've finished their investigation. They probably will bother you, as owners of the property. I doubt if you'll have to go out there.”

“I see. I suppose Mr. Lyon will be able to handle the authorities. Although I wouldn't mind driving out there if it will expedite matters. I haven't been there in two years. We really must do something about that place.”

“But why at our farm, Mr. Cooperman? Why does that man haunt us, even now that he's dead?”

“That's a good question. I hope I'll be able to answer it. Can you think of any other connection between Johnny Rosa and your family that I don't know about?” Neither of them spoke. Jarman looked at his wife, and she returned his glance steadily and then looked at me.

“I can't think of a connection, Mr. Cooperman. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. Just hope that the cops don't find one.”

“Ben, do you think that my wife is withholding information?”

“Did I say that? Didn't mean to give that impression.”

“We don't generally withhold things from the authorities. Unlike some.” He sighed this last part and let it hang in the air vaguely, under the green porcelain chandelier.

“Look, the way I see it, it's like sex,” I said. “You can have carnal knowledge and you can have carnal hearsay. One's evidence, the other isn't, that's all.”

“Is there any other way in which we can help you right now, Ben? We are a bit pushed this evening and we have to put in an appearance at the University. The new theatre is opening tonight. Gloria's father endowed the building, so it's only proper that we should be there.”

“Don't let me hold you up.”

“Ah, but before I forget, we should do something to regularize your association with the family. I understand you wouldn't accept a retainer earlier in the week.” I didn't give him my life story, but I explained as quickly as I could about how I was still working for Muriel when Gloria first offered the money. I think I convinced him that I was as susceptible to money as the next man. He wrote me a cheque and I put it in my breast pocket with the telephone bill.

“Good,” Jarman said, getting up and putting away his blue cheque book. “That puts it on a business-like basis.”

“We should really run, now, Bob,” Gloria said. “Unless you have any further questions, Mr. Cooper-man?” She looked at me with her eyes wide open, hoping for a negative response, I figured.

“No, I'm through with asking questions, if I could have a word in private with you, Bob?”

“Sure. Gloria, I won't be a minute. I'll meet you at the car. We'll walk around the long way.” Gloria got up and shook my hand, and swished out the double doors. I told her that I would keep in touch. Jarman led me through another hallway that looked like a display room in a museum, and into a large open court with a glass roof and a large swimming pool.