Free This is For Real by James Hadley Chase Page A

financial balance. He’s big Mark: really Mr. Big.”
    Girland shifted on the hard seat of his chair.
    “Does he live permanently at George V?”
    “He doesn’t live permanently anywhere. He has a château in the Loire district. He has his own place in Paris. He has places all over the world, but he seldom lives in them. He prefers a good hotel. He lost his wife a couple of years ago, so why should he worry about a permanent home? He moves around all the time. He’s just back from Moscow. It wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t put in a bid for the Kremlin as a week-end place. He’s that kind of a man.”
    Girland became alert.
    “What was he doing in Moscow?”
    “I wouldn’t know,” Verney said and shrugged. “More big business.” He looked thoughtfully at Girland. “You come in from time to time and ask all kinds of questions, but this is the oddest. I wouldn’t have thought you would have interested yourself in Radnitz.”
    “It’s for my scrapbook,” Girland said and got to his feet. “Well, thanks, Jacques. I’ll leave you to get on with your work. Don’t pine for me. You’ll see me before long.”
    “I don’t ask questions,” Verney said, his face serious, “but as you are my friend, I have to warn you to have nothing to do with Radnitz. He’s dangerous.”
    “Thanks.” Girland smiled. “When I have saved up enough money, I’ll buy you a beautiful dinner.”
    He waved his hand and left the office. After he had taken the lift to the ground floor, he walked out into the chilly wind that blew up the Champs Elysées.
    He found a taxi to take him back to his apartment. He climbed the stairs slowly, thinking, so this is how it feels like to be old. It had been quite a night, he thought, but now, at last, I’m free of Rossland, and I’m heading for the big money.
    In his apartment, he stripped off his clothes and took a hot shower, then he put on pyjama trousers and flopped into bed.
    In the darkness, he thought about this mysterious woman, Radnitz and Robert Henry Carey. He thought too of Rossland, lying alone in his room, his finger nails torn off, his face congested and very dead.
    His final thought before he fell asleep was of Tessa, with her long legs, her blonde hair and her compactly built, beautiful body.
    Sleep closed over him and washed even her out of his mind.
    The telephone bell brought Dorey out of a light doze. He was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. He stiffened to attention, glanced at his desk clock and saw it was twenty minutes after three.
    Janine, lying on the settee, started out of an uneasy sleep and half sat up.
    Dorey lifted the receiver.
    “Hello, yes? Dorey here.”
    “This is O’Halloran. I’m calling from Orly airport,” a tough cop voice said. Captain Tim O’Halloran was one of the best officers of the American Security Branch. “Drawn blank down here. We’ve checked thoroughly. During the past week, around a hundred or so Senegalese have passed through the barriers. She might have been amongst them, but I doubt it. We’ve gone through all the embarkation cards. Most of the women were with men and those on their own were old. Do you think she was travelling with a man, Mr. Dorey?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t see why not.”
    “Well, okay, I’ll get some of the boys to check all the married couples. It’ll be a job, but it can be done. She might have come in by boat. S.S. Ancerville berthed a couple of days ago. I’ve alerted the police at Marseilles to check. There was also a cargo boat from Dakar, berthing at Dunkirk. She could have been on that.”
    “How long will all this take?” Dorey demanded.
    “For a complete check at least five days. Best we can do.”
    “She could have left the country by then,” Dorey said.
    “I don’t think so, Mr. Dorey. We’re now ready for her. She can’t get out. We’ve sewn up the airports, the trains, and the ships. We may take time to find her, but if she tries to leave, we’ll have