To Catch a Thief Page 20

  Paul closed the door, turned the key, then switched off the light.

  “You’ll both feel more at home in the dark,” he said emotionlessly. “It’s safer for you, and I’d rather not have to see you, if you don’t mind.”

  Danielle said, “I’m sorry, Paul.”

  He did not answer her. They heard him sit on the bed. When he spoke again, minutes later, it was in the same lifeless tone. He said, “It would have been less cruel to tell me the truth when I asked you to, John.”

  John had his ear to the door, listening for sounds in the corridor. He was too fully occupied to realize that Paul had come to a natural conclusion until Danielle said pleadingly, “Whatever else you think—”

  “Quiet! It will keep.”

  John listened at the door. There were voices, but none nearby. They could talk in safety.

  He said, “We’ll get out of here as soon as we have a chance. While we’re waiting, I’ll tell you what I was trying to tell you yesterday when you knocked me out, Paul. I should have told you before then, and I won’t try to explain now why I didn’t. But I never lied to you. I didn’t know anything more about Danielle than I said. I don’t know any more about her now, except that she’s what you thought I was.”

  He told the rest as briefly as possible, stopping now and then to listen at the door panel. At the end he said, “I warned you that there couldn’t be two Lisas. But it should hurt less to know this one is a thief than to think something else about her.”

  Paul said, “Is it true, Danielle?”

  “Yes.” Her answer was barely audible.

  They heard footsteps coming along the corridor, and two voices arguing. The argument went on past the door, down the corridor.

  John said, “That’s Oriol. He’ll never quit.”

  Danielle said, “Why don’t you give me to him? Why didn’t you give me to him on the roof, if you had risked so much to find me?”

  “I don’t know. It never occurred to me. I didn’t have time to think about it. I—”

  He stopped. The footsteps had come back. The low-voiced argument was still going on. It continued outside the door for a moment before someone knocked.

  Paul said, “Who is it?”

  “Oriol. I want to talk to you, Paul.”

  Paul turned on the light. The color had returned to his face, but nothing in his expression told them what he meant to do. John reached for Danielle’s arm to bring her against the wall, where they would be shielded by the door when it opened. It was as instinctive as everything else he had done since learning her identity.

  Oriol and George Sanford were in the hall. Sanford looked angry, Oriol stubborn.

  Paul said, “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry, Paul.” Sanford was both angry and embarrassed. “I have to apologize for this.”

  “I’ll make my own apologies,” Oriol said. “John Robie was on the roof tonight. I almost got him. He didn’t have time to get away from this wing, and I think he would come to you for help if he was trapped. Do you know where he is?”

  John held his breath. Danielle was tense at his side.

  Paul said, “No. Do you want to search my room?”

  “I won’t permit it!” Sanford said furiously.

  Oriol ignored him. He said, “I know you don’t lie, Paul. But you held something back from me last night, when I asked you about Mr. Burns. I don’t know what it was, but now I want to know I’ve heard the plain truth, and all of it. Give me your word.”

  “I give you my word that I haven’t seen John Robie at any time since coming here, and that I wouldn’t protect him if I knew or suspected where he was. Is that enough?”

  “That’s enough. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

  The door closed. The footsteps went away.

  Paul stared at the door panel in front of his eyes until there was no sound in the corridor. Then he shook his head quickly and turned to grin at John and Danielle.

  The grin was an effort, but he managed it. He said, “That puts us all on the same side, doesn’t it? Two thieves and a liar on his word of honor. What do we do next?”

  John let out his breath.

  Danielle began to unwind the rope that was around her waist. She avoided looking in Paul’s direction, and when she spoke it was not to him but to John.

  “May I go now?”

  “How?”

  “Out the window.”

  “Oriol will be watching the wing. He knows I’m here somewhere. We’ll have to wait.”

  “I’d rather go, just the same.”

  “You can’t.”

  She rewound the line obediently. He said, “Where did you learn to climb a rope?”

  “In a circus.”

  “What’s the rest of it?”

  She bent her head more than was necessary to see the end of the line she was tucking into place as her waist. He said, “Paul is entitled to know, as much as I am. We’ve both paid a high price to protect you, in our own ways.”

  She bit her lip. Afterward she gave no sign of emotion. She spoke calmly, always to John. Paul never took his eyes from her face.

  Her story was so much like John’s own that he knew, as she went on, what was to follow. The only difference between them was that she had been trained first for the ballet, as a child. Her parents had been dance enthusiasts, wealthy enough to provide her with the long schooling they hoped would produce a star. It had been an apprenticeship to which she submitted without enthusiasm until she was thirteen, when a side wash of the war and a flight of bombers wiped out the ballet school, her home, her family, and everything else she knew, leaving bare survival a problem for an adolescent girl in a devastated country occupied by an invading army.

  “I had relatives in Switzerland,” she said. “They brought me out of France, but they were poor and practical. I had to support myself. I could dance on my toes and do an entrechat, but I didn’t know how to churn butter or milk a cow. The nearest thing they knew to the theater was a Swiss circus that came around the countryside once a year. I went with it.”

  It had been another kind of apprenticeship, more arduous than ballet. But her earlier schooling helped her. She had poise, trained muscles, and agility. In time she learned acrobatics and the trapeze. From trapeze flying she graduated to the high wire, first as part of an act, ultimately to star billing as Monsieur Daniel, the Aerial Clown, with a mustache and baggy clothes to conceal her sex, since by strict Swiss law girls of sixteen were not permitted even to attend a public cinema, much less appear as paid performers in a circus.

  “It gave me the idea for something different,” she said. Although she still did not look at Paul, some change in her tone made both men realize she was talking to him now, not John. “I don’t know when it was I decided to do what I did, if I ever made a decision. I don’t think I had to. I wanted things—security, and leisure, and a nice life, not to be a performing monkey on a string three times a day. Another girl might have got away from it by finding different work. I didn’t. I can’t tell you why the idea of stealing didn’t make me ashamed. I suppose people have different ideas of—”

  Paul said, “You don’t have to explain anything to me, and John must understand. Go on with the rest of it.”

  “At first I thought I could use Monsieur Daniel, with the mustache and a man’s clothes, to hide behind. I did, in Switzerland. But there was nothing big to steal there, and I didn’t intend to be a thief any longer than necessary to get what I wanted, so I left the circus and came here. I had a new idea when I met Claude. I thought I could use him instead of Monsieur Daniel. But he wasn’t clever enough to trust, and I went on with Monsieur Daniel until I heard about Le Chat.”

  John said, “It would have been better for both of us if you had stayed with Monsieur Daniel.”

  “I didn’t even know that you were still alive. But Le Chat was exactly what I wanted, a real thief, known, photographed, and identified. I read everything I could find about you, your trial, the reports of your ol
d thefts, and copied you in everything so they would look for you instead of me.”

  “When did you identify me?”

  “Not until tonight, on the roof. Oriol called your name. Besides, there aren’t many men who could have followed me as you did.” She smiled quickly, to apologize for the small boast. “I knew from the beginning that Mr. Burns didn’t go to the casinos just to gamble hundred-franc counters. I thought you were probably an insurance detective, like Mr. Paige, hoping to find the thief spotting jewelry. You made it easy for me to see Mrs. Stevens. I didn’t know you and Mr. Burns were the same man until you spoke to me on the roof.”

  “I suspected you, for a while. But I thought Claude was your climber. I forgot that women don’t develop the same kind of muscles. And you never let me touch you.”

  “I never let anyone touch me. It was too dangerous.”

  Paul said curiously, “Why?”

  John took Paul’s hand and put it on Danielle’s shoulder, at the point where the muscle from the shoulder blade ran up into the neck. Under the softness of her flesh it was like a hard rope.

  Paul said, “I see.”

  He left his hand on her shoulder. Danielle did not move away from the contact.

  She said to John, “What else do you want to know?”

  “Did you intend to rob the Souzas?”

  “I was planning it when Bellini sent me to Lady Kerry. That gave me a chance at Mrs. Stevens instead. I saw her come in that night. She was alone, she’d had too much champagne, and I knew she’d sleep well. It took twenty minutes.”

  “I was waiting for you every night but that one. I had the Souza villa covered, too. I guessed every theft you would try in Cannes, including this one. Why did you come here when you knew I’d be here?”

  “I told you I didn’t know who you were. I wasn’t afraid of Mr. Burns. Kind, innocent Mr. Burns, who introduced me to his—good friend Paul—”

  Her steady voice wavered and broke.

  Paul’s hand was still on her shoulder. He made her turn to look at him.

  “His good friend Paul, who had fallen in love with you and couldn’t change if you had robbed the French treasury and burned it to the ground afterward,” he finished. “This isn’t the way I intended to ask you, but it will do. Will you marry me?”

  She tried to say something, could not, and shook her head. He said, “I meant to ask you when I invited you here. All the things you wanted I can give you if you’ll have me, Danielle. I offered to buy John off when I thought he was the thief. Let me buy you.”

  She still could not answer him, only shake her head. The eagerness that had been in his face left it. He took his hand from her shoulder.

  John said, “What else do you expect her to say, Paul? Give her a chance. You can’t buy her out of trouble. She has to do that herself. Do you still have the jewelry, Danielle?”

  She nodded.

  “All of it? Unbroken?”

  “Yes.” She swallowed and found it easier to talk. “I was going to take it to Holland and sell it there, after I got the pearls. I was afraid I’d make the same mistake you did, in France.”

  “You’ll have to give it up. You can have Paul instead, if you want him, but they’ll never stop hunting us until the jewelry is returned. If we turn it back—let me think for a minute. I’ve got an idea.”

  It did not come to him all at once that there was a way they could both go freely from the château. He only knew certainly that to end the search for the thief a return of the stolen jewels was essential. But he had had an idea for his own escape since Danielle said she thought Mr. Burns and Mr. Paige were working toward the same end. Mr. Paige had the influence and power of the London insurance company behind him. If it could be brought to their side, purchased with the free return of a hundred and twenty-five million francs’ worth of jewelry—Paige was hard-headed—the recovery was what he wanted, not a conviction.

  His mind raced over the possibilities. He could see his own way out. Francie would have to help again, with Danielle. If she was still on his side, they could both go free.

  He looked at the window and saw that the sky was already light. “What time is it?”

  Paul said, “Nearly five.”

  “We’ll have to wait until seven, at least. I’ve thought of a way to send you and Danielle out of here together.”

  “How?”

  “Never mind. I’ll tell you when I’m sure it will work. Where is the jewelry now, Danielle?”

  “In my room. In a suitcase.”

  “That’s what you’ll pay to stay out of Lepic’s hands, then. As soon as you’re safe, get the suitcase and take it to Bellini with a note I’ll give you. After that, you and Paul are on your own. You can decide for yourselves where you want to go from there. Give me a pencil and paper, Paul.”

  He sat down and wrote the note to Bellini.

  He wrote a second note which Paul carried to Francie’s room shortly after six o’clock. The sun was up, and the heat of another blazing day had begun to make itself felt. It was a good beginning. Bad weather would have made his scheme more difficult.

  Paul returned in a few minutes. John said, “Did she ask any questions?”

  “She read the note and said it would take her about half an hour. That’s all. She didn’t seem surprised.”

  “Good. Where is Oriol?”

  “Still arguing with Sanford. Sanford isn’t so skeptical now, since he’s seen the hole in the roof, but he still doesn’t believe you’re inside the château. Oriol knows better. He’s trying to reach Lepic by phone.”

  “You’ll have to get away before Lepic comes. He knows Francie by sight. Do you have a pair of bathing trunks?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put them on, and a robe.”

  Paul went into the bathroom. When he came back in swimming trunks and a beach robe, John said, “The minute Francie arrives, you go. Start your car, and give Oriol plenty of time to notice that you’re leaving. If he comes after you to ask why, tell him the seashore is the only place you can think of where you might escape insults from the police. Be unpleasant enough to show you haven’t forgotten this morning. When Danielle gets there, let him see her, but leave as quickly as you can without acting as if you were in a hurry.”

  “I know how to do my part. What about you?”

  “I’ll go a different way. I wouldn’t be trying this if I weren’t certain I could get out myself, so don’t worry about me. There’s nothing to do now but wait.”

  They waited. The valet came by with a petit déjeuner of coffee and rolls. Paul took the tray at the door, and they shared the breakfast, drinking from a single cup. Paul, touching Danielle’s fingers as the cup passed between them, looked happier than John had ever seen him.

  Danielle spoke hardly at all. She realized that what happened during the next few hours meant either an end or a beginning for her. Although she was accustomed to facing risks, and gave no outward sign of worry, John knew what was going on in her head. She was, as always, practical. If and when she escaped Oriol and Lepic, there would be time for Paul.

  Francie arrived before they had finished the coffee. She wore the zebra-striped bathing suit he remembered, a robe over it, the white bathing cap, and sandals. There were dark circles under her eyes. Nothing in her attitude indicated either reluctance or eagerness to play the part he had given her. She looked only once at Danielle, briefly, and asked no questions.

  Paul left the room immediately. Francie said, “There are a few people on the terrace, but none near the pool. I put my toe in the water, then walked away. No one paid any attention. They’re still talking about burglars.”

  “Was your mother there?”

  “She’s still in her room. She hasn’t dressed yet.”

  “That helps. What about the other bathing suit?”

  “I only had this one with me. I can change clothes with her, if you want me to.”

  “It isn’t necessary. The robe will cover her. You’re taller than she
is, but it won’t be noticeable. Roll up your slacks and put on the sandals, Danielle.”

  Francie took off the sandals and gave them to Danielle, who put them on, then the beach robe, finally the bathing cap. With a towel tied like a scarf at her neck, she was effectively disguised. There was only a small difference in height to show that she was not the girl who had already appeared on the terrace to dip her toe in the swimming pool.

  John said, “The rest is up to you and Paul. Go down the first stair you find on your left when you leave here, cross the terrace, go on by the swimming pool, and get into Paul’s car. If anyone calls to you, wave and keep going. Let Oriol look at you if he’s there. He’ll lose interest as soon as he sees you’re a woman. Don’t try to hide your face, and don’t hurry.”

  “I understand.”

  “That’s all, then. Get the jewelry and the note to Bellini as quickly as possible.”

  “You’re putting a lot of faith in me, aren’t you?” Danielle said.

  “If you mean because you might not deliver the jewelry, I don’t think so. You can’t have it and Paul, too. You’d rather have him, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Make him a good wife, Danielle. He deserves it.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She put out her hand. “Good-bye, Mr. Burns. I know it isn’t your name, but it’s the way I think of you. No one ever did so much for me.”

  “Bellini would say it was loyalty among thieves.” He pressed her fingers. “Good-bye. Good luck.”

  She turned to Francie, hesitating to hold out her hand.

  “How do I thank you?” she asked.

  “I’d rather you didn’t try,” Francie said. “I can’t say you’re welcome until I know what else is going to happen. I’ll still give you to the police if it’s—necessary. I hope it won’t be.”

  Danielle said, “Oh,” not in alarm but in understanding.