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inquiries.”
    Radnitz stared down at his spade shaped finger nails. There was a long pause, then he said, “This must be handled quickly. Make Rossland tell you what he discussed with Dorey. I don’t care what you do to him. He’s expendable.”
    Thomas nodded and got to his feet.
    “I’ll be waiting here,” Radnitz said. “Be quick about it.” He reached for his drink as Thomas made his way quietly out of the bar.
    On the Avenue, Thomas walked to where a black Citroen was parked. The driver, a short, heavily built man with a round fat face and cruel little eyes looked at Thomas inquiringly as he opened the car door and slid into the front seat.
    There was another man sitting in the back of the car. He was tall and thin and dark. His lean hatchet shaped face was as expressionless as a mask. His very stillness gave him an extraordinary look of menace.
    “The boss wants us to talk to Rossland,” Thomas said. “He has an apartment on Rue Castiglione.”
    Borg, the driver, grunted, started the engine and pulled away from the kerb.
    It took them ten minutes to reach Rossland’s apartment block. Thomas and the tall man, Schwartz, got out and Borg drove away in search of parking space.
    “We can handle this without Borg,” Thomas said.
    “You mean I can,” Schwartz said with a sneer.
    Thomas looked sharply at him. He was getting worried by Schwartz’s undisguised contempt, but he decided this wasn’t the time for a showdown. They entered the lobby, moving quickly past the concierge’s window and reached the lift. Pressed close together in the small cage, the two men were drawn up to the top floor.
    They got out, closing the lift door silently.
    Thomas pointed to the tiny spy-hole set in the panel of the front door which allowed anyone inside to have a view of the caller outside.
    Schwartz nodded and stood aside. Thomas took from his overcoat pocket a .38 automatic. He screwed a small, but efficient silencer to the barrel, then he rang the front door bell as Schwartz put his hand over the spy hole.
    There was a long pause, then they heard the sound of heavy footfalls.
    Rossland was drunk enough to be careless. He didn’t even bother to use the spy-hole. Unlocking the door, he jerked it open.
    Thomas lifted the automatic and pointed it at Rossland’s paunch.
    “No fuss,” he said quietly. “Walk backwards and keep your hands still.”
    As Schwartz appeared behind Thomas, Rossland’s face sagged and turned grey. He walked slowly backwards into the living-room. Thomas followed him while Schwartz closed the front door and locked it.
     
    Girland ran up the flights of stairs to his apartment. He had time to take the girl, waiting for him, to the little bistro across the way, he thought as he reached the top landing. After dinner, he would bring the girl back here, persuade her to wait for him again, and then see this woman at the ‘Allo Paris’ club. When he was through with her, and after calling Rossland, he would return to his apartment. The girl and he would have fun together for the rest of the night. It was typical of the confidence he had in himself that it never occurred to him that the girl might not be co-operative.
    He unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped into the lighted room, then he paused, frowning. There was no sign of the girl.
    “Tessa?” he called, raising his voice.
    Only silence greeted him.
    He looked into the shower room, then satisfied that she had gone, he sat on the bed.
    In disgust, he thought, well, she certainly had me for a sucker. She must have gone as soon as I. I really thought I was on to a sure thing. Then he frowned. But why? Why did she come back here and give me the treatment if she didn’t intend to play? His eyes became alert and he got to his feet. He looked around the big room. Everything seemed to be just as he had left it.
    He crossed the room to the big wardrobe and looked at the three drawers in the wardrobe. The lower drawer which he didn’t use was