‘In confidence, that agency should be avoided.’
‘Thank you.’
A girl came in with ten one-thousand dollar bills and the receipt which Helga signed, making sure the numbers of the bills were on the receipt. She put the bills in her bag.
Looking at Freeman with her cold, hard eyes, she said, ‘Please keep this receipt safely, Mr. Freeman. It could figure in a criminal charge.’
‘I understand, Mrs. Rolfe.’
Freeman’s bewildered expression clearly showed he wished he did understand, but this was Herman Rolfe’s wife and you didn’t ask questions when dealing with the wife of one of the richest men in the world.
Satisfied with her morning’s activities, Helga returned to the hotel. She had a lonely vodka martini on the terrace, then a light lunch in the grill-room. She had an hour before she called on the British Agency. She went to her suite and lying on the bed, rehearsed what she would say to Mr. Gritten.
The telephone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts.
‘This is Dr. Bellamy, Mrs. Rolfe. I have consulted with Dr. Levi. He agrees that Mr. Rolfe can be moved. Dr. Levi has spoken to Mr. Winborn. There will be a chartered plane ready to leave tomorrow at 14.00.’
‘This is splendid news, doctor, and thank you for all you have done.’
She called the Hall porter and asked him to find Hinkle. Ten minutes later Hinkle appeared. She told him what Dr. Bellamy had said.
‘Please arrange for someone to pack my things tomorrow morning, Hinkle. Will you also interview this boy, Dick Jones and see he is ready to travel with us?’
Hinkle inclined his head.
‘Yes, madame.’
When he had gone, she left the hotel and drove to Ocean avenue where the British Agency had their offices.
Checking the directory board she saw that the Discreet Inquiry agency: Mr. Harry Jackson was on the fourth floor. The British Agency: Mr. Frank Gritten was on the fifth floor.
She took the elevator to the fifth floor.
An elderly, brisk woman welcomed her.
‘Mr. Gritten is waiting for you, Mrs. Rolfe,’ she said and led Helga into a large, sunny inner office.
The V.I.P. treatment, Helga thought. How long will it last?
Frank Gritten looked what he was: an ex-police officer, big, bulky, thick white hair, steady blue eyes and a calm expression that gave confidence.
‘Please sit down, Mrs. Rolfe. I was sorry to read about Mr. Rolfe.’
Helga sat down. She looked directly at Gritten.
‘I have been talking to Mr. Freeman of the Nassau Bank. He tells me I can have every confidence in you, Mr. Gritten.’
Gritten smiled.
‘Freeman and I have been good friends for years.’ He sat down at his desk. ‘Yes, Mrs. Rolfe, you can have confidence in me. What can I do for you?’
‘My husband, Mr. Gritten, has been ill for some time. This illness has affected his mind. He has got it into his head that I am being unfaithful to him,’ Helga said and looked directly at the thoughtful, but probing policeman’s eyes. ‘Three days ago, he hired an inquiry agent to have me watched: a man called Harry Jackson.’
Gritten nodded, his face expressionless.
‘A day after Mr. Rolfe hired this agent, he suffered this stroke. The agent is worried about his fees. According to him, no terms were discussed when my husband hired him. The agent has approached me, asking me to pay him. According to him he has worked for two days, hiring two people to watch me. I would like to ask you what would be a reasonable fee to pay him?’
Gritten reached for a battered pipe.
‘May I have your permission to smoke, Mrs. Rolfe?’
She made an impatient movement.
‘Of course.’
As he filled his pipe, he said, ‘He is entitled to a retainer. The minimum would be three hundred dollars. For a client of Mr. Rolfe’s standing, he could reasonably ask one thousand dollars. Then he would also be entitled to one hundred dollars a day expenses. For two days’ work, you can pay him one thousand two hundred dollars, but not a dollar more.’
‘Mr. Jackson is asking ten thousand dollars.’
Gritten’s blue eyes turned steely.
‘Have you proof of that, Mrs. Rolfe?’
‘Nothing in writing.’
‘You are speaking to me in confidence,’ Gritten said. ‘Nothing you say to me will leave this office. In my turn, I will speak to you in confidence. For the past six months, the Nassau police have been trying to revoke Jackson’s licence. They suspect he is a blackmailer, but so far they have no proof. If you could and would supply evidence that he is asking for ten thousand dollars for two days’ work, the police would put him out of business.’
‘How is it then, Mr. Gritten, that he is associated with Lawson’s Inquiry Agency in New York who I understand is a highly reputable firm?’
Gritten puffed at his pipe.
‘Jackson was one of their operators. Four years ago he came down here and set up on his own. Lawson’s backed him. A year ago, Jackson got himself involved with a nightclub singer. She is demanding and to hold on to her, Jackson has been spending. He is now short of money and from what you are telling me, he appears no longer fussy how he gets it.’
Know your enemy!
Helga felt a moment of triumph. The cards were falling her way.
‘Do you know anything about this woman, Mr. Gritten?’
He removed his pipe and began to rub the bowl.
‘If you want to put Jackson where he belongs, Mrs. Rolfe, you should come with me to the police who will give you every assistance and in the strictest confidence.’
‘Thank you, Mr. Gritten, but I prefer to handle Jackson myself,’ Helga said curtly. ‘I would appreciate any information you can give me. Who is this woman?’
‘Her name is Maria Lopez. She works at the Blue Bird club. She is married to Ed Lopez who owns and captains a mail boat that runs between here and the Out islands,’ Gritten pulled at his pipe. ‘Lopez is an interesting character. For sometime now, the police have been watching him. He leads a waterfront gang known as the Death’s Heads. This gang terrorizes those who work on the waterfront, exacting dues, fines and so on. Lopez is as dangerous as a mad dog, Mrs. Rolfe.’
‘Doesn’t he care for his wife?’
Gritten smiled.
‘Yes, he cares very much. As I said, Lopez is an interesting character. When he trusts someone, he trusts them. He trusts his wife.’
‘And yet she and Jackson...’
‘She is greedy and Jackson spends money on her. They both know the danger they run and their affair is more than discreet, so discreet no one, except the police, know about it.’
‘So you could say Jackson is playing with dynamite?’
Gritten’s smile broadened.
‘That, Mrs. Rolfe, is an understatement.’
She got to her feet.
‘Thank you. You have been more than helpful. What do I owe you?’
Gritten levered himself out of his chair.
‘Mrs. Rolfe, I have read about you. If you will pardon me, it seems that you are what my American friends call a tough cookie. Anything I have told you that can fix Jackson is for free. You have my best wishes, but please remember that Jackson is also a tough cookie. If you need help, I am entirely at your service.’
‘I won’t need help, Mr. Gritten, but thank you for the offer.’ Then flashing on her most charming smile, she left the office and not bothering to wait for the elevator, she ran down the stairs.
On her way back to the hotel, she glanced at her watch. The time was 16.20. She thought of the long hours ahead of her before confronting Jackson.
If only she wasn’t so alone! If only she had someone to help her pass the hours until the morning. She must take no risks. She would stay in her suite, have a lonely dinner on the terrace and take two sleeping pills for company.
She smiled bitterly. One of the richest women in the world and alone!