“They are in a hunting lodge in Butcher’s Wood,” Gollowitz told him hurriedly. He had received detailed information from McCann only this morning. “I have a map here.” He opened a drawer in the desk, took out a neatly prepared plan and pushed it across the desk.
Ferrari picked it up, folded it into four and put it in his pocket without looking at it.
“How do you want me to kill them?” he asked.
“I’ll leave that to you,” Gollowitz said. “But it is essential that both of them should appear to the accidentally.”
Ferrari pursed his thin lips.
“When are they to the?” he asked, sitting down.
“Wouldn’t it be better to discuss the means of getting at them?” Gollowitz suggested, stung by Ferrari’s arrogant tone. “If it were all that easy I wouldn’t have sent for you. They are guarded night and day. No one can get near the lodge without being seen. There are police dogs, searchlights and a small regiment of police guarding the only approach to the lodge. There are six picked detectives, all expert shots, who take it in turns to guard these two. Two women detectives never leave the Coleman girl for a moment, even when she’s asleep. Two detectives guard Weiner in the same way. It’s not a matter of when they are to the, but how we’re going to get at them.”
Ferrari ran a bony finger down the length of his nose while he regarded
Gollowitz the way a scientist would regard an unknown microbe.
“I asked you when they are to die,” he said.