‘Well, you certainly know how to take care of yourself,’ Mifflin said with unconcealed admiration. ‘That was quite a jam you were in.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, massaging my wrists. ‘Let’s go to your office. I want to talk to you.’ I looked over to Paula, who was closing the lid of the gramophone. ‘Nice, quick work. What did I do? Got you out of bed?*
‘You got me out of a bath,’ Paula said. ‘If you’re not going to get into any more trouble, I’d like to go back to it.’
‘Go ahead, and thanks, Paula. You saved me from the tigers,’ and I gave MacGraw a grin.
He walked out of the room, the back of his neck purple.
When Paula had gone, and Mifflin and I were seated in his overheated office, I said, ‘If this case breaks the way I think it could break, there’s going to be an awful stink in the Press, Tim.’
Mifflin groped hopelessly in his pocket for a cigarette, found none and raised eyebrows at me.
‘Gimme a butt. What do you mean—stink?’
I gave him a cigarette, lit one for myself.
The chances are Marshland’s behind the kidnapping: Ded-rick’s a reefer-smuggler, working in with Barratt. He looks after the Paris end of the business. It’s my bet Marshland found out about him and hired someone to get him out of the way. That’s why Mrs. Dedrick wanted to buy me off.’