For a long moment, I sat silent. I looked at this big, impressive man, and I felt a despairing sickness as it dawned on me he was lying. Farrell Brannigan! The man, who, with a wave of his hand, had done so much for me. My mind flashed back to the past few weeks. Marsh murdered. Thomson, murdered. The blackmail threat. Klaus, Benny, Joe and Harry Brett. Glenda pleading for me to tell them how to break into the bank. Her faked captivity. The impish smile from the teenager as she swung on the gate, when she spoke of Harry Brett.
Keeping my face expressionless, I asked, ‘You are saying Glenda relies on me to help you. How can I possibly help you, Mr. Brannigan? Why should a man of your status need my help?’
His eyes shifted from me to the wall behind me, and back to me again.
‘Do I have to remind you, Larry, if it wasn’t for me, you would still be a mechanic? Because of me, you now own a flourishing business, and you are regarded as an important citizen in Sharnville... because of me.’
I continued to look directly at him, saying nothing.
After a long pause, he went on, ‘I need your help, Larry, as you once needed my help. This thing has developed into a dangerous mess. You, and only you, can straighten it out. Both Glenda and I are relying on your help.’
‘What thing, Mr. Brannigan?’
His fatherly smile became fixed. He rubbed his jaw, pulled at his cigar, then released a cloud of smoke that half screened his face.
‘Larry, we both are relying on you. I brought you from nothing. Don’t you think you can return favour for favour?’
‘I ask again, Mr. Brannigan, what thing has developed into a dangerous mess?’
A faint flush came to his heavy face. He sat upright. He was now no longer the father figure, but the tough President, up against opposition.
‘We’re wasting time, son!’ There was a snap in his voice. ‘You know very well what I’m talking about! Don’t fence with me! What has happened at the bank?’
Then I knew, just by looking at the hard eyes, that Farrell Brannigan was involved in the bank break-in. By now, I was shockproof, and my mind was working actively.
‘You needn’t worry about the bank, Mr. Brannigan,’ I said. ‘Four evil men are trapped in the vault. There is no possible way for them to get out unless I let them out. I guaranteed to build you the safest bank in the world... it is the safest bank in the world.’
Slowly, he crushed out his cigar in the ash bowl. Beneath his heavy golfer’s tan, his complexion turned yellow.
‘You’re telling me they are trapped in the vault?’ His voice was now husky. I could see his confidence oozing away.
‘It is the safest bank in the world, Mr. Brannigan. When a psychopath, and three morons, one a vicious killer, try to break into your bank which I built, they become trapped.’
He reached for another cigar, and I saw his hand was unsteady, then he changed his mind, withdrew his hand, then looked at me.
‘But you can get them out, Larry?’
‘Yes, I could get them out,’ I said, ‘but I don’t intend to.’ I leaned forward, then asked, ‘Do you want them to escape, Mr. Brannigan?’
He sat still, and I could see him visibly shrinking. He was now no longer the President of the biggest banking syndicate in California: he was an ageing, fat man whom I could no longer respect.
‘They must escape, Larry,’ he said finally, his voice a husky whisper.
‘They are not going to escape,’ I said. ‘My next move is to telephone Manson, and warn him there are four bank robbers locked in the vault. Once he has alerted the police, I will go down to the bank, and open the vault. The way I’ve fixed it, no one, except me, can do this. It is still the safest bank in the world.’
I got up and walked over to the desk and reached for the telephone. As I picked up the receiver, the door slammed open, and Glenda rushed in.
She was now wearing green slacks and a white shirt. In her hand, she held an automatic pistol. She pointed the gun at me.
‘Get away from that phone!’ she screamed.
There was a mad look of frenzy in her eyes. Her mouth was working, the gun wavered in her hand.
I took two steps away from the desk.
‘Glenda!’ Brannigan’s voice was sharp.
She looked at him, her eyes loathing.
‘There is no one now, Glenda, except Larry, who can help us,’ Brannigan said, his voice pleading. ‘Don’t do anything dramatic.’
I was looking at her, seeing the hard, drawn face, the vicious, angry eyes, and I didn’t recognize this woman I believed I loved. That woman whose soft yielding body had received me, whose pleading voice had begged me to save her life, had vanished, to be replaced by this redheaded, dangerous-looking woman whom the teenager’s mother had called a whore.
Although I thought I was, by now shockproof, the realization that Glenda had used me so heartlessly and ruthlessly, sickened me.
‘What have you done with Harry?’ she demanded, her voice shrill. ‘What have you done with him, you sonofabitch?’
‘Glenda!’ Brannigan shouted. ‘Go away! Leave this to me! Hear me?’
She looked at him, her big eyes scornful.
‘Don’t tell me what to do, you fat sack of crap! Your daughter! That’s a laugh! Do you imagine you can talk this smart bastard into believing your lies?’ Turning on me, ‘You’re going to get Harry out of that vault!’ She waved the gun at me. ‘If you don’t, I’ll kill you!’
‘Go ahead and shoot me, Glenda,’ I said quietly. ‘No one but me can open the vault, and the air is running out. In another four or five hours, your Harry, and the rest of them, will suffocate to death. This is up to you. Go ahead and shoot!’
She moved back, her hand going to her mouth.
‘Suffocate?’
‘There is no ventilation now in the vault,’ I said. ‘Right now, four men are using up the remaining air... it won’t last long.’ I held out my hand. ‘I’ll get him out, but on my own terms. Give me that gun!’
‘You’re bluffing, you devil!’
‘You called Klaus that, didn’t you? Give me that gun!’
‘Give it to him!’ Brannigan shouted.
She hesitated, then threw the gun at my feet.
‘Take it!’ she screamed at me. ‘You and your cheap love! Harry is ten times the man you are!’ and she ran out of the room, slamming the door.
I picked up the gun and laid it on the desk, then moving slowly, I returned to my chair and sat down.
There was a long pause, then Brannigan said uneasily, ‘She’s hysterical, Larry. You know what women are.’
I looked up, my fists clenched.
Your cheap, stupid love!
That hurt, but now I knew the truth. All along Brannigan had been lying. The scornful way she had said, Your daughter! told me she was his mistress, and the lies he had told me about his secretary had been futile attempts to keep some gilt over his image.
‘So, according to you,’ I said, ‘she loves me. What a liar you are!’
He flinched.
‘Is it true these men could suffocate?’ he asked.
‘At a guess, they have another six hours. Dixon and I built that vault. There is a ventilation fan, but to get out of the vault, I had to cut the electricity. I don’t bluff, and I don’t tell lies.’