Never mind about a missing Air Force officer and his wife, never mind about bombs, never mind even about Betsy Ruysdale, one of us. Where was Chambrun? Why had he broken all his rules, ignored all his regular routines? It couldn’t have happened that way, most of us felt. Somehow the enemy had got to him. The only way they could get Guy Willis released, which they apparently felt was the only way to get Major Willis to talk, was on a direct order from Chambrun. Kidnapping Betsy Ruysdale hadn’t worked. Now they would put the heat on Chambrun himself. How did they get to him? They couldn’t have stormed his office. They couldn’t have dragged him, bodily, out of the hotel. “So he walked into a trap,” Hardy suggested. “That caller suggested a meeting somewhere to talk about Betsy. He fell for it.” “Not the Chambrun I know,” Jerry Dodd said. “He’d never let himself be suckered that easily.” “Who gets to be in charge of the hotel in his absence?” Hardy asked. “Under normal conditions,”
