I slid off the table. “Suppose you go an’ explain things to her. I reckon we gotta hurry, the boys out there are getting restless.”
He got to his feet, looking worried. “I hope she’ll listen to reason,” he said. He stood there like a schoolboy screwing up his courage to go inside for a belting. Then he walked out of the room.
I let him go, and when I was sure he had gone upstairs I gumshoed to the foot of the stairs and flapped my ears.
I heard his voice. He was putting the problem forward in a low voice. I could just catch a word here and there, but nothing more. There was a moment’s silence, then a woman spoke. She just said: “Very well, if you think it is safe,” but it was not what she said that made me stiffen. It was the voice. I’d know that voice anywhere. The cold, hard, metallic ring in it.
Colonel Kennedy’s girl friend was the woman who had called me up twice on the telephone. The woman who had sent me five thousand bucks.
I said, “Well, well,” to myself and walked slowly back to the big room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KENNEDY CAME down again after five minutes or so. He went to the window and looked out, then he turned round to me. “I’ve talked to her,” he said uneasily. “She wants you to get the car ready and have it drawn up outside. Then she’s going to make her getaway by herself.”
This didn’t suit me. I was looking forward to a long drive with this dame. “What happens to the car?”
A little frown settled on Kennedy’s face. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said. “I just want you to do that… nothing more. Will you do it?” There was a touch of the soldier in his voice.