Аврам Дэвидсон: Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 67, No. 3. Whole No. 388, March 1976

“If you can prove that—?”

“I will prove it,” Dark said. “But it isn’t just enough to destroy that one man, Senator. I intend to pull down his empire along with him.”

“According to your information — notes supplied by you, Dark — General Motors is bigger than Switzerland, Pakistan, and South Africa put together. Royal Dutch Shell is bigger than Iran, Venezuela, and Turkey. Goodyear Tire is bigger than Saudi Arabia. Quadrant International is bigger than any two of a hundred big ones. You, one man, propose to destroy that kind of power?”

“Or die trying,” Dark said quietly.

When Jason Dark unlocked the door of his room in Washington’s Hanover House a pretty blonde girl, who had been sitting by the windows overlooking the Potomac, came quickly across to him and threw her arms around him, holding him close.

“My poor darling, what happened?” she asked.

Jason Dark had felt old and tired coming up in the elevator. He had worked for weeks preparing a case for Senator Stanton to present to his fellow Senators. The Wilson-Strohmeyer Bill, had it passed, would have struck a sharp and painful blow to Quadrant International and other multinational corporations that were trying to become the Earth’s Managers. The girl’s cool fingers on Dark’s cheek revived him.

This girl, Sharon Evans, was a recent miracle in Dark’s life. She was young enough to be his daughter. It was preposterous that she could love him, and yet, by all that was holy, she did. He had used her, shamelessly, in his first move against Quadrant, and instead of hating him for it she had fallen in love with him, joined him as a woman and as an ally in his self-appointed search-and-destroy mission.

In moments when he was removed from the magic of her physical presence he debated whether she was a plus or a minus. An ally he could use; but she had, in effect, created a weakness in his position that hadn’t been there before. If she was ever in danger — and she could be, simply by associating with him — he might back off, just as Senator Stanton had backed off, to make sure of her safety.

He looked at her steadily for a moment through his tinted wire-rimmed glasses, as if to make certain she was real and not a mirage.

“The Senator’s daughter was kidnaped just before he was due to make his speech,” Dark said. “No speech or else. He had no choice.”

“And the girl?”

“Home, safe and sound.” Dark described his brief visit with Liz Stanton.

“How awful for the Senator — and for the child’s mother,” Sharon said.

“The Senator is a widower,” Dark said. “He lives quite simply. A cook-housekeeper and young Michael Braden, his aide and secretary, are the entire household.”

“Make you a drink?” Sharon asked.

“Not just yet,” Dark said. He walked over to the windows and looked down at the river. “Let me try something on you for size.”

She came over to stand beside him, her arm linked through his. He looked at her, smiling faintly. “There are only a very few people in the world who can’t be bought. There’s you, and me, and at the moment I can’t think of who else.”

“Thanks for including me.”

He touched her bright gold hair. “This was a tricky business, Sharon. It had to be handled very precisely. Given time to think about it, the Senator’s reaction might not have been predictable.”

“I don’t follow.”

“If Liz Stanton had been kidnaped hours before, or a day before, the Senator might have considered calling in the F.B.I., or some other course of action. But this is how it happened. The Senator got up at his usual time, had breakfast with his daughter as always, then went to his office in the Senate building. Just as he was about to go into the Senate Chamber to make his speech he got a phone call. ‘No speech or else!’ He had no time to think, to weigh one action against another. He acted out of instinct, out of love.”

“So?”

“This was terribly important to Quadrant and the others. Their plan wouldn’t have been haphazard. They had to know exactly what the Senator planned to do. Would he make a speech in support of the Wilson-Strohmeyer Bill? It didn’t matter how he voted, only if he planned to make the speech that would sway other votes. They had to know for sure — and they did. Then there was the time pressure. They had to know exactly where Liz Stanton would be so they could snatch her. They couldn’t risk her wandering off somewhere, or going to visit some unknown friend. They had to know exactly where she would be at the critical moment.”

“How could they know that?”

“From someone in the household,” Dark said. “Someone who knew that on Thursday mornings a special tutor came to the house to help Liz make up school work she’d lost because of a bout with measles. She had to be at home.”

Sharon’s eyes widened. “The housekeeper? The Senator’s secretary?”

“I think we can eliminate the housekeeper,” Dark said. “The person who told them — I think we should call them the ‘enemy’ — also had to know that the Senator was definitely going to make the speech. I can’t see any reason for the Senator to confide in his cook. That leaves us with young Mr. Michael Braden, the secretary.”

“He was an accessory to the kidnaping?”

“It would have to be proved,” Dark said.

“How?”

Dark walked over to the desk in the corner of the room and wrote something on a plain sheet of paper. He handed it to Sharon. “See that this is delivered to Mr. Braden at breakfast time tomorrow morning.”

Sharon glanced at the message. It read: “Come to the cottage at once. Urgent.”

“If he ignores that we’re barking up the wrong tree,” Dark said.

At a quarter past eight the following morning Michael Braden hurried out of Senator Stanton’s house, went to the garage, and backed out his personal car. Gravel spattered against the fenders as he drove out onto the main highway. He looked around nervously. He saw the blonde girl in the parked car across the way, but she meant nothing to him. He had no reason to think he might be followed or that the blonde girl might be the follower.

Dark’s plan was simple enough. If Braden took the bait he would drive to the “cottage by the ocean” where Liz Stanton had been held. There were some “ifs,” of course. He might check out the message with someone by phone and discover it was a fake. But it was unlikely he would make such a call from the Senator’s house. The Senator still hadn’t gone to his office. Besides, the message itself would imply that a phone call was risky.

If he took the bait and drove to the cottage, Braden would have inadvertently confessed his guilt and Dark would learn who owned the cottage and where it was. Sharon was assigned the job of following because Braden knew Dark by sight and would instantly suspect something if he got a glimpse of him.

Dark waited by a pay phone about a block from the Senator’s house.

Sharon, driving a rented car, followed Braden’s car. It was difficult only because Braden drove so fast. Most of the traffic was coming into Washington. Braden was headed east, across Maryland, toward the ocean.

Checking her wrist watch, Sharon began to wonder if they could possibly reach their destination in less than an hour. Liz Stanton had been delivered safely home in just under an hour. Ahead, Braden’s car turned off the highway. He drove up a small side road toward a high point of land. Sharon was puzzled, because this was nowhere near the ocean. Then off to the left she saw a large inland lake.

Up ahead Braden turned into a private driveway. Sharon drove straight on past the drive, catching sight of a name on an RFD mailbox. CARTER CLEAVES.