Free Lady, Here's Your Wreath by James Hadley Chase

taking the Scotch out of my pocket. Ackie fixed his eyes on it. I didn't leave him much.
     We did that trip under a hundred and fifty minutes. I was glad when they pulled the car to a standstill. Driving like that without any breakfast didn't do me any good.
     Kennedy had got a swell place, make no mistake about that. The lodge was hidden from the main road by a big belt of giant trees. The surrounding country was wild and woody. Not far from the lodge a swift river about a hundred yards wide flowed strongly, twisting through the woods like a snake.
     It was the sort of place I would have bought myself if I had the dough. The sort of place Mardi and me would be happy in. Even with a big story breaking I kept linking myself with that girl.
     We piled out of the car and began to walk up the narrow, wooded path that led to the lodge. We hadn't gone far before we heard voices.
     Ackie grinned a little. “The boys've camped out here,” he said.
     He was right. We turned the sharp bend in the path and suddenly came upon the lodge and the boys. There must have been eight or nine of them hanging round the lodge, watching the windows, smoking and talking.
     When they saw us they came towards us hurriedly.
     Barry Hughson greeted me with an ironic cheer. “Jeeze,” he said, “you here again!”
     Ackie scowled at him. “The old man sent out an S O S. You watch your step... this guy's a big shot.”
     Hughson started to say something, but stopped. Maybe he thought it would be wise to quit ribbing me.
     “We ain't seen a sign of anyone,” he said. “We got the place surrounded, and we've tried getting in, but short of smashin' a window we don't stand a chance.”
     “You nuts?” I demanded. “This is going to make the Colonel as sore as hell. What do you think you're playin' at?”
     Hughson shrugged. “We got to get the dope,” he said. “The cops won't spill it... there's somethin' goin' on inside there, an' our public want to know.”
     We all had a laugh at that.
     “Listen, Nick,” Ackie said quickly. “Suppose you have a shot at it. You get in there an' find out what it's all about... then, if you can, persuade the Colonel to let the boys in... tell him he's news. We gotta see him!”
     If I could get in I should certainly line up with Kennedy. I had no sympathy with headline hunters. I was always on the look-out for a good story, but this way of getting it didn't appeal to me.
     “Call your dogs off,” I said to Hughson. “I shan't get in unless you boys are out of sight.”
     They were so eager to get that story they'd've jumped into the river if I'd told them to.
     When they had all got under cover, away from the lodge, I walked up to the front door. I took a slip of paper out of my notebook and scribbled on it: “ Maybe I can help you out of this. Nick Mason.” I rang the bell and shoved the letter through the box.
     I stood there waiting. I waited so long that I thought I wasn't going to pull it off. Then I thought maybe Kennedy was thinking it was phoney, so I stood away from the lodge so he could see me.
     That worked it. He came to the door himself. I expected to find him plenty mad. I knew he'd got a hell of a temper once he got going.
     “Come in quick,” he said, holding the door ajar.
     I stepped into the hall and he shut and bolted the door behind me.
     “Am I glad to see you?” he said, wringing my hand. “Where the blazes have you been all this time?”
     I grinned at him. “Suppose we skip that for a moment, Colonel,” I said. “Seems like you've got yourself in a bit of a jam.”
     “Jam?” He certainly looked worried sick. “I'm sitting on dynamite. Listen, Mason, are you going to help me out again?”
     “Sure,” I said. “That's why I've come out