“Not quite superb. You haven’t been able to locate Felicity Jordan yet.”
“That will take time,” Benoit protested. “She’s not a degenerate gambler like Napier. When she’s not at her villa, she travels from resort to resort, and she and Napier only come together for a week or two a year. From what I’ve found out about her so far, she likes money, high-fashion boutiques, and sex. The latter involves a frequent and varied change of bed partners, which Napier ignores as long as she supplies him with funds. But I’ll find her.” He sighed. “And I have to admit Napier was no real challenge of my skills. That’s his favorite casino on the Riviera. He even checked into that small hotel so that he’d be within walking distance. He thinks it brings him luck.”
“Not tonight.” Jock pulled over to the curb. “Get out, Benoit. Meet me back at my hotel. You’re not going to want to be involved in this.”
“Right.” Benoit quickly got out of the car. “Not my area of expertise. See you later.” The next moment, he’d disappeared around the corner.
And Jock was cruising slowly behind Raoul Napier, watching for an opportunity. Napier was younger than he’d thought he’d be, probably at least fifteen years younger than his wife, Felicity. Well built, dark skin and eyes and a shock of dark hair that made him look even younger. Evidently, Felicity was into boy toys these days. His tuxedo was beautifully tailored and had probably cost at least nine or ten thousand.
Money that had no doubt been supplied by funds sent to his loving wife by Darcy Nichols, Jock thought. Bloodsuckers. He’d always detested the bloodsuckers of the world. Maybe he wasn’t in quite so much of a hurry to get this over after all.
And Napier was now approaching an alley just ahead.
No one on the street. All the focus was on the brightly lit casino in the next block.
Jock’s foot pressed on the accelerator to intersect him as he reached the alley.
Take him quickly. Get the information. Decide later just how much he hated bloodsuckers …
*
It took Napier fifteen minutes to regain consciousness. By that time, Jock had managed to get him out of the city and driven into a field secluded by tall trees.
“You … hurt me.” Raoul Napier’s eyes were wide with panic as he struggled into a sitting position on the ground beside the car. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have given you my money. I’ll give it to you right now. I don’t have much, but maybe my credit card would be—”
“Not necessary. I need something else entirely from you.” Jock knelt beside him. “Sylvie Jordan. You and your wife took her from her sanitarium almost two months ago. I want to know who paid you to do that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He moistened his lips. “I had nothing to do with that. Sylvie’s not even my daughter, she’s my wife’s kid. You’ll have to ask her.”
“I will, but I can’t seem to locate her. Perhaps you can help me.” Jock bent closer, and said, “But don’t lie to me again. It makes me very angry. You don’t want to make me angry. You both were at the sanitarium signing Sylvie out. So you definitely had something to do with it, Napier. And the next week, the casino said you appeared to be very flush. In fact, it financed a really good run at the crap tables. It didn’t last long, you’re currently on a losing streak.” He added softly, “And tonight you’re definitely on a losing streak. So you’re going to tell me what happened to Sylvie Jordan and why you decided to kill her.”
“Kill her? I didn’t kill her.” He was breathing hard, his hands opening and closing. “I had nothing to do with it. I just did what I was told.”
“By whom?”
“I can’t tell you that. I just owed someone a lot of money, and he said that if I did this one thing, it would all go away. All I had to do was to get my wife to take Sylvie out of that sanitarium and turn her over to him.”
“And you didn’t ask why?”
“You don’t understand. There was no way I could pay off that debt. He would have made an example of me. So I thought maybe if I told him what a gold mine Sylvie was for Felicity, maybe we could make a deal. I didn’t think he’d hurt her. Why should he? She’s been a bread ticket for Felicity for years. There wouldn’t have been any reason to hurt the kid. He could use her, just like Felicity did.”
“Use her,” Jock repeated distastefully. “And I take it your wife didn’t find anything wrong with turning her daughter over to this scum?”
“She didn’t like it. She said Sylvie was too valuable. I couldn’t convince her to do it. But I guess he did. At first, he didn’t think it was a good idea, but then later he changed his mind and said we could make the deal. And then I had trouble with Felicity.” He added pettishly, “Nothing was going right for me. But he said he’d take care of it. He called and scared her, and she finally said she’d go along with it.”
“There are too many he’s and him’s in this conversation. A name, Napier.”
He was silent.
Go in another direction. “And where is your wife now, Napier?”
He didn’t speak.
“Where?”
“How do I know?” He burst out. “She was pissed off that I’d gotten us both into trouble, and she didn’t want to see me again. I was surprised that she was even willing to do it. She must have been really scared. She hated my gambling. The bitch never understood me. She told me that once she’d delivered Sylvie, that she was going to have to think of a way to deal with Darcy until she got the kid back.” His lips twisted. “And she said my free ride was over and to expect divorce papers within a few months.”
“And where was she supposed to go to deliver Sylvie?”
“After we picked up Sylvie at the sanitarium, Felicity was to drive into the hills to Paillon, a little town near the coast, and turn her over. I guess that’s what she did.”
“Guess? Not good enough. And I need a name.”
“I can’t.” His face was white. “Look, he’s left me alone just like he said he would after we gave him Sylvie. He even gave me a little bonus for cooperating. But I know if I talk, I’ll be a dead man.”
“If you don’t talk, you’ll be a dead man,” Jock said quietly. “I’m leaning that way anyway. You’re wasting my time, Napier.”
“Take my money,” Napier said desperately. “Maybe I can get you more if you let me go.”
“I want a name. I want to know everything you know.”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t? You’ll be surprised how easy it is,” Jock said. “I don’t usually deal in torture. My training was in ending life, not extending it to agonizing lengths. That doesn’t mean I’m not very competent at it. So you’d be wise to terminate this interview to my satisfaction.”
“Take the money,” Napier repeated desperately.
Jock sighed. “You’re very stupid, Napier. Though to tell you the truth, your decision is very satisfying to me. It just doesn’t meet my goals.”
He reached and delicately stroked Napier’s throat. “It’s amazing how much pain can be inflicted in these muscles without actually killing…”
Napier whimpered, then began to groan.
LAKE COTTAGE
“The man who was behind Sylvie Jordan being taken from that sanitarium was Jacques Manard,” Jock said when Joe Quinn picked up the phone. “He’s a big-time bookie and gambling kingpin who controls a hell of a lot of the action along the Riviera. Napier owed him a bundle, and he jumped at the chance of getting out from under before he was tossed into the Mediterranean. But Napier had to have his wife cooperate to get Sylvie released, so he had to involve Felicity.”
“Why the hell would Manard want Sylvie Jordan?”
“Napier didn’t know or care. He’d told Manard the situation about Sylvie and her twin. He thought it might be kidnapping, or just a way to force Felicity into turning any money Darcy earned over to him.”
“Too complex. And no ransom was ever asked. There was just the skull…”