The Case of the Kidnapped Angel: A Masao Masuto Mystery (Book Six) Read Online Free PDF

cottage—grass rug, wicker furniture with bright blue upholstery, good prints on the walls. Masuto stood staring, captivated. Two of the prints were askew, a lamp was knocked over and smashed, a chair was turned over, and the grass rug was pulled out of place.
    â€œI want you to see the bedroom,” Cominsky said.
    â€œIn a moment.” He was trying to recreate a struggle in his mind and to fit it into what had happened in the room. Beckman, who knew him well, watched with interest. “All right,” Masuto said.
    â€œThere are three bedrooms.” Cominsky led the way. “This is the master.”
    The bedclothes were rumpled, a nightgown on the floor. As Masuto studied the scene, Cominsky walked over and touched a switch next to the bed. Above the switch, a red light glowed.
    â€œThis is the alarm switch. The light’s on when the switch is off.”
    â€œI should think it would be the other way,” Beckman said.
    â€œNo, this makes sense. You put out the lights, and then the red light reminds you about the alarm.”
    â€œWhat time did she leave the party?” Masuto asked.
    â€œAbout one P.M. When they all live in the Colony, the parties tend to run late.”
    â€œBut it was a weekday. Most of them would have to be in the studios very early.”
    â€œYeah. She was one of the last to leave.”
    â€œAnd Barton got the call at three A.M. That leaves two hours. Unless they were stupid enough to make the call from here, they had to break in and take her somewhere. If they were watching her, why didn’t they intercept her? Why break in at all? And if she went straight to bed, why didn’t she reach out and turn on the alarm?”
    â€œYou tell me,” Cominsky said.
    â€œAnd if she wasn’t asleep, why didn’t she reach out and turn on the alarm when she heard the door go?”
    â€œWas the bedside lamp on?” Masuto asked.
    â€œIt was.”
    â€œYou had the place dusted?”
    â€œEarly this morning. We don’t look for anything there.”
    â€œCan I use the phone?”
    â€œBe my guest.”
    He called Beverly Hills and got through to Wainwright. “It’s one o’clock,” Masuto said. “What do you hear from Barton?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œDid he pay the ransom?”
    â€œAccording to Ranier he got the call from the kidnappers over an hour ago and left just before noon, taking the million dollars with him.”
    â€œNever said where he was going?”
    â€œNot a word.”
    â€œDid Ranier listen in on an extension?” Masuto asked.
    â€œHe says he didn’t. He’s there with McCarthy, waiting for Barton to show. Where are you?”
    â€œAt Barton’s beach house.”
    â€œDid you find anything?”
    â€œConfusion. I’d like to talk to Netty Cooper while I’m out here.”
    â€œWhy not? Aside from the confusion, you got any ideas, Masuto?”
    â€œToo many. If you want me, you can call the Malibu station. They’re right outside the Colony.”
    He put down the phone and turned to Cominsky, who asked him if he had seen enough.
    â€œI think so.” He picked up the nightgown and looked at it—white silk, white lace. He put it to his face to smell it. Cominsky grinned. Beckman said, “I never knew you went in for that, Masao.”
    â€œOnly lately.”
    Cominsky padlocked the cottage door again.
    â€œIf the system is turned on with the bedside switch,” Masuto said, “then what happens when you open the door from the outside?”
    â€œThere’s a switch in the lock that turns it off. It’s not foolproof, but it’s a damn hard lock to pick.”
    â€œDoes your screen at the police station tell you when the alarm systems are on or off?”
    â€œYes. The officer on duty says it was off.”
    â€œHere on this part of the old road,” Masuto said, “what kind of people live