“And, on the basis of what he found when he opened that briefcase, he wanted to buy silver.”
“On the basis of the purchasing schedule, yes.”
“And the timetable.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Rothstein said. “A timetable? What do you mean? A man came to me to buy silver. I’m a stockbroker. I do a large business in commodities...”
“Your partner said Dodge asked for an unlimited line of credit, is that true?”
“Well... yes, I suppose...”
“Asked you to back him to the hilt in buying silver long, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he... well, yes, he did.”
“And incidentally signed his own death warrant.”
“I had nothing to do with Peter Dodge’s death,” Rothstein said.
“No? You knew he was in possession of the timetable, the one thing that could blow the...”
“He’s already told you he doesn’t know anything about this timetable of yours,” Olivia said. “No more answers, Lowell, until we get an attorney up here.”
She went directly to the phone on the desk and lifted the receiver.
“By the way,” Reardon said, “Abbas was ticketed Phoenix, Washington, New York, and Rabat. In Phoenix he went to see your father. To talk about money.”
Olivia looked at him.
“And in Washington,” Reardon said, “he went to see Senator Thomas Bailey. To talk about bombers.”
She put the receiver back on the cradle.
She turned from the desk.
“You’ve been busy,” she said.
“So have you,” Reardon said. “According to your brother...”
“My brother? What...?”
“Did I forget to mention him?” He looked at his watch. “He should be down at the precinct by now. He beat me to within an inch of my life, big fella, your brother. But we had a nice little chat afterward. And he told me all about the timetable.”
Olivia was watching him intently now. Rothstein was sitting on the edge of his seat, as if he would bolt for the door at any moment.
“Abbas was in Washington to talk to Senator Bailey about getting more planes for his country. Because once the timetable went into effect...” He looked at his watch again. “What time do you suppose it is in Saudi Arabia?”
Rothstein looked sharply at Olivia.
“How many hours ahead are they?” Reardon asked. “Eight, nine? Let’s say it’s three in the morning there, okay? That leaves how much time to six A.M. on Christmas Day?” He paused. “That’s when they start bombing the oil fields, isn’t it? Six A.M. on Christmas Day?”
Neither of them said anything.
“First wave of planes is supposed to go over the Rub’ al Khali at six in the morning, isn’t that right?” Reardon said. “According to the timetable?”
Silence.
“Kidd International won’t do too bad, will it?” he said. “With a war in Saudi Arabia, and you sitting with oil interests all over the Middle East. Your brother seems to think you’ll make trillions of dollars.”
“Zillions,” Olivia said, and smiled.
He had to hand it to her, that smile.
“But again, Mr. Reardon, we’ve done nothing illegal,” she said. “The silver we’re buying...”
“How about financing a little war? Your brother says that’s why Abbas was in Phoenix, Miss Kidd. To get additional backing from your father. Phoenix to Washington, right? First more cash, then more bombers. Right, Miss Kidd?”
“That may be immoral,” she said, smiling again, “but illegal? Really, Mr. Reardon...”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” he said, “but murder is illegal. According to your brother, the minute Dodge left Rothstein’s office...”
“I had nothing to do with the murders!” Rothstein said.
“You knew what that timetable meant, didn’t you? The minute you laid eyes on it...”
“Yes, but...”
“The minute you linked it to the silver purchasing schedule...”
“Yes, but I’m not the one who...”
“Shut up, Lowell!”
“All I did was call Phoenix!”
“Damn you, I...”
“She’s the one who put the Arabs on Dodge! She’s the one who ordered them to...”
“You are a very stupid man,” Olivia said.
Reardon looked at both of them.
“I think you’d better come with me, huh?” he said. “We can talk more about this downtown.”
“Why?” Olivia said.
“Miss Kidd, maybe you don’t understand the situation here...”
“Yes, I quite understand it, Mr. Reardon,” she said, and smiled again. “You’ve stumbled upon what you imagine to be a vast money-making scheme...”
“Never mind imagine, Miss Kidd.”
“All right, you know, or at least you believe you know because Joseph Phelps has so informed your colleagues — if a thief is to be trusted at all — and my brother has seemingly corroborated...”
“Your brother isn’t a thief.”
“No, he’s merely a fool. But let us say, Mr. Reardon, that a war will in fact begin on Christmas Day, and that there will be fighting around oil fields, and that the Kidd oil interests in the Middle East will benefit from such fighting, and let us also say that greed — there’s no other word for it,” she said, and smiled, “has led the Kidds to invest heavily in silver, on the premise that the price of silver will rise in tandem with the price of oil, and let us further say that a smart speculator, a man like your Mr. Dodge, for example...”
“Who got himself killed...”
“Yes, but that was unfortunate. A smart speculator, let’s say, who knew all about this... well, such a speculator could very well get into the market himself, couldn’t he?”
Reardon looked at her.
“Buy himself a little silver, Mr. Reardon? Mm?”
“If I’m hearing you correctly...” Reardon said.
“I believe you’re hearing me correctly. Why don’t you buy yourself some silver, Mr. Reardon? The price is certain to double, at least, within the next several weeks. You’d be betting on a sure thing, Mr. Reardon. You could make yourself a small fortune.”
“Uh-huh,” Reardon said.
“How much do you earn, Mr. Reardon? If I may be so bold.”
“A Detective/Second makes a bit more than thirty-seven a year.”
“Do you know how much you could earn in two weeks, Mr. Reardon? If you invested wisely in the silver market at this point in time? If you invested, say, half a million dollars before the close tomorrow? Bought yourself, oh, a hundred and fifty lots, something like that?”
“Half a million, huh?” Reardon said, and shook his head. “Too bad I’ve only got three thousand and some change in the bank.”
“There are people who might be willing to advance you that kind of money... perhaps even more... huge sums of money, Mr. Reardon, if they knew they were backing a sure winner.”
“Olivia’s right, you know.” Rothstein said. “You could come out of this a very rich man. Not on such a small investment, of course. Not on three thousand dollars.”
“What you said was half a million, right?” Reardon said.
“Yes,” Olivia said. “Or perhaps more. Depending on what your needs are.”
“And you think there are people who’d let me have that kind of money, huh?”
“I’m sure we could find... investors for you,” Rothstein said, and glanced quickly at Olivia.
“Backers,” Olivia said, and smiled.
“You could be a very rich man,” Rothstein said again.
“Gee, and here I thought three grand in the bank was rich,” Reardon said.