In her luxury suite at the Eden hotel, Helga had just finished dressing for dinner when the telephone bell buzzed.
She looked at the telephone for a brief moment, frowning. She wasn’t expecting any calls. With Larry still on her mind, anything unexpected made her uneasy. As the buzzer sounded again, she crossed the room and picked up the receiver.
“Is that you, Helga?”
Her eyebrows lifted. She would know that booming voice anywhere. There was a time when Jack Archer went in for amateur theatricals. He had often said that only two men in the world had real actor’s voices: Sir Laurence Olivier and himself.
“Why, Jack… this is a surprise. I’ve only been here an hour.”
“How are you? Did you have a good run from Bonn?”
“Not bad… a lot of snow. Where are you, Jack?”
“I’ve just blown in. I’m in the bar.”
“You mean you’re in the hotel?”
“That’s it. I flew in from Lausanne yesterday. You said you would be arriving today… remember?”
She now did remember she had written to him from Paradise City giving the date of her arrival, but she had forgotten. She stiffened, thinking what an escape she had had. Suppose he had come to the villa in search of her and had walked in when she and Larry were there!
“I was planning to drive over to Lausanne tomorrow and see you,” she said, forcing her voice to sound casual.
“I have other business here, Helga, so I thought I’d save you the trip. Are you alone?”
“Of course.”
“Well, how about dinner together?”
“Yes… lovely.” She looked at her watch, noticing her hand was a little unsteady. The time was 20.35. “I’ll come right down.”
“In the bar.”
She hung up and stood motionless for some moments. Every six months she went to Lausanne and she and Archer checked through Rolfe’s investments. Their intimacy had died abruptly on the day Helga had married. Neither of them ever referred to it. They had now an easy friendship and a good business relationship. Archer had a flair for investment Sometimes he was a little reckless, and it was then that Helga put the brakes on, but this seldom happened, and when she refused one of his more reckless suggestions, he would grin at her, shrug and say, “Well, eventually it’ll be your money. If you don’t want to speculate that’s okay with me.”
She found him sitting at a corner table, away from the sprinkling of people in the bar. He stood up and waved to her as she came in.
She thought a little sadly that age never helps anyone. Five year ago, Archer had been one of the handsomest men she had seen off the movies. Now his straw-coloured hair was thinking and receding. He had put on too much weight. Standing over six feet, powerfully and heavily built, he still made an impressive figure, but she could no longer call him handsome. He must be five years older than herself, she thought as she smiled at him, taking his hand.
He had already ordered her a double vodka martini, knowing her drink, and he began asking her questions about her trip as he led her to the table.
She felt relaxed in his company. He had a soothing manner and a lot of charm: one of his major assets when dealing with the very rich. She skirted around her journey, not mentioning she had stayed at the Adlon hotel in Basle. She told him about the new car.
“And what news of Herman?”
She lifted her shoulders.
“The same… always busy.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, his bright blue eyes a little probing.
“No regrets, Helga?”
“Don’t let’s go into that.” She finished her drink. She was not going to remember that it had been Archer who had arranged the marriage. She had put enough business his way to reward him. She was certainly not lifting the curtain on those exciting moments in his office when he used to lock the door and they had had those “quickies’ on the settee. “Let’s eat… I’m starving.”
The dinner of finely cut smoked beef with pickled cucumbers followed by a pheasant was impeccable.
While waiting for the dessert trolley, she said, “I didn’t know you had other clients in Lugano, Jack.”
“A couple of old fossils.” He grinned. “I have to see them about every eighteen months. I thought it would be a good idea - save you the trip too - if I came over and did our business and theirs at the same time. Feel like working after dinner?”
She nodded. She had nothing else to do but to worry and brood so she welcomed having him for the rest of the evening.
“I have all the papers in my suite,” he went on. “Let’s go up after coffee… okay?”
She hesitated. Was it wise to go to his room? Would eyebrows be raised? He saw her hesitation and immediately read her thoughts.
They have a small boardroom here. Let’s use that,” he said. The table will make it easier to spread the papers on.”
She smiled at him, nodding. That was another thing she liked about Archer.
He was highly perceptive, tactful and always had a solution.
After the dessert, he said, “Meet me in the lobby in five minutes. We can have our coffee in the boardroom.”
Half an hour later, the table strewn with papers, the coffee pot empty, Archer paused to light a cigar.
That about wraps it up, Helga,” he said. “Not a very good six months, but these Euro-dollar bonds are sliding. Nothing to worry about. They’ll come back. At least, they pay a hefty interest. The equities are down… but the Dow Jones has been shot to hell. Still, it could be worse. Would you like me to explain about the losses to Herman or will you do it?”
“I’ll do it. He can’t expect to win all the time. I’d like to look at the prices to compare them with last month’s figures. How much are we down, Jack?”
He regarded the glowing end of his cigar and lifted his heavy shoulders.
“A damn sight less than most investors.”
She regarded him.
“I’m not in the least interested in other investors, Jack. How much are we down?”
“Oh… around ten per cent. It’ll pick up on the next half year.”
“Ten per cent!” She sat upright. “But that’s about a two million dollar loss!”
“Yes… about that, but there’s twenty million in the kitty.” He smiled. “My two old fossils are in the hole for a thousand.” He shook his head. “In comparison, they are worse off than Herman… a lot worse off.”
“Let me see the stock list.”
He shrugged, opened his briefcase and took out a file.
“Sure you want to run through all this? Could take couple of hours.” He glanced at his watch. “You must be tired.”
“I’m all right’ She took the file from him and put it on the table.
“To save time, you might initial each page as you go. I’ve initialled my copy already.” He handed her a gold Parker pen and then began to gather up the papers strewn on the table.
Helga lit a cigarette, picked up the pen and began to go through the list of holdings. She had an excellent memory but there was such a mass of holdings she couldn’t remember the exact price of each stock or bond as it had stood six months ago, but she remembered a number of them.
Admittedly the prices of the bonds were down, but only by two or three points. She had been expecting something much more dramatic. She turned the pages, her eyes darting down the neatly typed columns of prices.
Archer sat in an easy chair, watching her, his cigar burning evenly.
“There’s a page missing, Jack,” she said finally.
“No… you have it all there.”
She looked up sharply.
There’s a page missing. There are at least four Eurobonds not listed: Mobile, Transalpine, National Financial, Chevron. There are equities missing too. Calcomp. Hobart.” She paused to look at the list, then went on, “CBS.”
He smiled.
“Whata wonderful memory you have. It’s really remarkable. Yes, they are missing. You slipped up on one: General Motors.”
She put down the stock list.
“Then let me have the missing page… what is this: a memory test?”
“Do you think Herman would miss them from the list?”
She frowned, staring at him.
“Why, no. You know he never looks at all this. You check it… I check it… and that’s it.” She looked more closely at him. “What is all this about, Jack?”
“Have you initialled the sheets?”
“No, and I’m not going to until I get the missing page.”
He stared at his cigar for a long moment, frowning slightly, then he looked up, staring at her, his pale blue eyes hard.
“You’re not getting that, darling.”
She leaned back in her chair.
“Why not?”
“Because they don’t exist any more.”
She felt suddenly cold and a little sick. She had been in the jungle of finance long enough to sense what he was trying to tell her.
“All right, Jack… explain.”
“One of those things, I’m afraid,” he said and lifted his shoulders. “That Australian nickel thing… I went into it heavily… the bubble burst… and that’s it.” “You went into it heavily… what do you mean?” He made an impatient movement which he checked immediately.
“Oh, come on, Helga! There was a great chance… a chance of a lifetime! I got in on the ground floor at $10… imagine! I held on too long… it happens. I could have got out at $120, but I just couldn’t resist hanging on. I swore I’d get out at $150 and I would have done. Then they found there was no nickel and… that was that.”
“But where did the money come from?”
“Where do you think? I sold these missing bonds and stocks. Now look, Helga, Herman needn’t know about this. You know he never checks anything. He’s far too busy. You initial all this stuff and he accepts it. I’m asking you to help me out of a hole. After all he’s worth around sixty million… he’ll never miss two, will he?”
“You sold bonds and stocks?” Helga sat forward and stared at him. “But you couldn’t have! We have joint signatures on the account! What are you talking about?”
Again he regarded the burning end of his cigar, then he looked at her, then away.
“I always did say, Helga, you had rather an unformed signature.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Are you drunk?”
“I wouldn’t mind being drunk.” He smiled his charming, sincere smile. “I’m sorry… I admit it’s a mess, but messes do happen.”
“Are you telling me you forged my signature?”
He hesitated and for a moment, his heavy face darkened.
“Sounds hellish, doesn’t it? But that’s what I did.”
“You must be out of your mind!”
He lifted his hands.
“I suppose I was then, but it looked so certain. I could have cleaned up three million.”
She put her hands to her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at him. There was a long, heavy silence, then he broke it by saying, “I’m sorry. It seemed so certain.”
She snatched her hand away and her eyes snapped as she said furiously. “All weak, stupid, greedy, dishonest fools say that! Don’t give me that crap! You’ve broken a trust! Worse… you’ve proved yourself a thief and a forger!”
He flinched.
“Yes… I deserve that.”
“How could you, Jack! How could you have done such a thing?”
He stubbed out his cigar.
“A mad moment… don’t you have mad moments?”
She felt her heart skip a beat.
“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”
“Yes… what are you going to do?”
“What is there to do? I must tell Herman. There is nothing else I can do. I won’t be party to this. You have done it and you must take the consequences. I’ll try to persuade Herman to accept what has happened… I’ll do that.”
“Herman is an unforgiving, ruthless sonofabitch,” Archer said quietly. “He’s sure to prosecute. Look, Helga, for old times’ sake, won’t you give me a hand? After all we were lovers… I did fix your marriage… don’t you feel you owe me something?”
“No, and you know it! You wanted me married to Herman to be sure of his account!”
“Just try leaning over backwards a little. Look, suppose you tell him I suggested investing in Australian nickel. You agreed. The stock began to rise so we plunged two million into it. Suppose you tell him we were gambling on his behalf. Do you think he would buy that?”
She hesitated. She realized she couldn’t send this man to prison: even now the memory of those ‘quickies’ was too strong. Yes, she thought she could convince Herman this had been a bad speculation that hadn’t come off. She would be contrite and promise him it would never happen again. He was certain to give her a tongue lashing but if she ate enough humble pie he would still leave her in control of his affairs, but only if she got rid of Archer. She would have to do that. From now on she would have to deal with some firm like Spencer, Grove amp; Manly, stuffy people, but highly respectable and their integrity unquestionable. She could no longer work with Archer. She could no longer trust him.
She lit a cigarette in the effort to steady her nerves.
“All right, I’ll persuade Herman to buy it,” she said quietly.
“But I am going to tell him to move the account to Spencer, Grove amp; Manly. I can’t work with you in the future. You understand that?”
“You really think Herman will buy it?” Archer sat forward, relief on his face.
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“Then why close the account, Helga? There’s no need to. If you’re sure he’ll buy it we are back on square A.”
She regarded him as if he were a stranger.
“As soon as Herman arrives I will have a letter for him to asking you to transfer all his holdings and files to Spencer, Grove amp; Manly.” She picked up the list of securities and got to her feet “I don’t ever want to see you again,” and she walked to the door.
“Helga.”
She paused and turned. He was lighting another cigar.
“Well?”
“Is that your last word?”
“Yes,” and she reached for the door handle.
“Don’t run away,” he said, a bite in his voice. “We still have things to talk about.” He paused, staring at her. “How did you find Larry? He’s quite a character, isn’t he?”
The Dean of the School of Law where Helga had taken her doctorate had said among many other things that there was a time to bluff and a time to be intelligent enough to know when not to bluff.
Helga had accepted this wisdom during her Law years. When she had bluffed, she had bluffed with a finesse of an expert poker player but when the situation was such she always accepted the inevitable.
The fibre of steel in her would not allow Archer to see the shock his words had on her. Her face expressionless, she turned around, came away from the door and sat down.
“What else is there to talk about?” and even she was surprised how steady her voice sounded.
He regarded her and genuine admiration showed in his eyes.
“I always thought you had guts, Helga, and now I know it for sure. You took that sucker punch like a champion.”
“What else is there to talk about?” she repeated woodenly.
“Me and you.” He leaned back in the armchair and drew on his cigar. “You see, Helga, I can’t let the account get away from me. You don’t imagine I would forge your signature and take all that money from Herman unless I was in a desperate fix? I’ve not only lost Herman’s money, but I have lost my own. Things are bad at the office. The fact is so many of the old fossils have died recently, so many accounts have come to a grinding halt since the new US. tax laws that we’re scarcely ticking over. Herman’s account is about the one thing that keeps us solvent.”
“You should have thought of that before you turned thief and forger,” Helga said harshly.
“I had no alternative. I was in too deep. It was either sink or swim… I’m not the sinking type.”
“That I can believe.”
“The fact is I don’t intend to lose the account. You and I are going to continue in partnership, and I’ll tell you for why. We are both cheats: I am a thief and forger and you are a whore. Neither of us would get any mercy from Herman. If he found us out, we wouldn’t survive. You would lose sixty million dollars and I’d go to jail. That’s why we are going to remain partners.”
She sat very still.
“What are you threatening me with?” she asked.
He studied her, then nodded his approval. He reached for his briefcase, opened it and took out an envelope.
“This,” he said and flicked the envelope on to the table. It skidded across and landed in her lap.
Her hands, still steady, took the envelope and lifted the flap. She drew out a glossy photographic print that was still a little damp. She studied it, keeping her expression under control although she felt as if ice water was running down her back.
In the photograph, she was lying on her bed, naked, and exposed, her hand on Larry’s trouser zip, while he appeared to be tearing off his jacket. In spite of her control, she felt the blood draining out of her face. She returned the print to the envelope and put the envelope on the table
“Thief, forger… and now blackmailer,” she said unsteadily. “At last, I’m getting to know you.”
He smiled: a thin smile, but a smile.
“I’ve already called myself all those names, Helga. I have now got beyond shame. I’m just not going to sink, and I have persuaded myself the end justifies any means. After all, you yourself are no saint, are you?”
“How did you get this photograph?”
“Do you really want to know?” He sank lower in his chair. “It was a long term operation and a technical achievement. A week ago I went to the villa… you remember I have a key… and I concealed a camera in one of the window recesses. The camera was focused on the bed. I had an electrician with me. He worked on the sun lamp switch by the bed. Larry had only to touch the switch to set off the camera shutter, the flash light and trip the fuses. It was quite a performance.”
She drew in a long, slow breath, trying to control her rising fury.
“You mean you hired an electrician to make this blackmail trap?”
He lifted his hands.
“My dear girl, you don’t imagine I’m clever enough to do a job like that? But don’t worry. He was very well paid. He just thought I was eccentric… you know the Swiss.”
“And you got someone to process the photograph?”
“Now, come, Helga, I’m not stupid. I hired a dark room of a local photographic store. I did the processing myself. I’m rather good with a camera.”
She sat for a long moment absorbing what he had told her, then she said, “And Larry?”
“He’s quite a character, isn’t he?” Archer drew on his cigar and stared up at the ceiling. “I knew for certain I would have trouble with you. When the money went down the drain, I knew I had to find a means of controlling your first impulse to rush to Herman and tell him what had happened. I also knew Herman would prosecute. Everyone has a weakness that can be exploited in one way or another. We have known each other now for some ten years. I know your weakness.” He looked at her. “You have been married to an impotent cripple for four years… a little more. You will inherit sixty million dollars so long as you behave yourself but I was certain you weren’t living like a nun. I decided to bait a hook for you. Frankly, Helga, with any other woman I wouldn’t have attempted it: the trouble, the money spent, the rushing here and there would have been too long odds, but with you, I felt it was worth a try. I knew you were arriving in Hamburg to pick up the car. Two days before you arrived I flew to Hamburg and began to look around. I wanted to find a virile, presentable young man without scruples. Not an impossible task in Hamburg where the dregs of the world come together. I found Larry. In the Reeperbahn, if you look hard enough, you are certain to find someone to do anything no matter how disreputable so long as the money is right.” He paused, then went on. “Larry was trying to persuade a young whore to take him home for nothing. She slapped his face and spat at him. I followed him into the street and we got talking. He asked me for money. He has beguiling warmth, hasn’t he? I am a man and you are a woman. I saw through this hick act of his whereas you fell for it as I was sun would. I told him I had a job for him. We went to a bar and I told him I wanted him to seduce an attractive woman so I could blackmail her. I offered him one thousand dollars to do the job. I felt quite safe telling him this. I was unknown to him: a man who had picked him up in the street. If he refused, then I could walk out and leave him, but, of course, he didn’t refuse.” He leaned forward to tap his ash into the ashtray. “I wasn’t sure where you would stay the night in Hamburg, but I knew you were seeing Schultz on business in Bonn and I knew where you always stayed there. I hired a car and drove Larry to Bonn. The more I talked with him, the more I was convinced that you would fall for him; but I wasn’t absolutely certain, and I had to be certain. So as a second line of attack, I dreamed up this passport gimmick. In any case, Larry had to have a new passport. He had deserted from the Army and had got mixed up in some riot. The German police and the U.S. Army police were hunting for him. I felt, if played on your generosity, you would fix him up. It was all a gamble, of course, but I knew you well enough to make the odds acceptable. Before I left Bonn I bugged your car. There is a new electronic eavesdropper on the market now that is fantastically efficient. The bug is the size of a thimble and has an impressive range. I then pointed you out to Larry as you arrived at the Konigshof hotel. Once I knew Larry had made contact with you and when he told me you wanted to take him to Switzerland, I knew you had swallowed the bait. It remained to be seen if the hook caught hold. I knew your hour of departure and I went on ahead. I was about a half a kilometre ahead of you all the time and I overheard your conversation. I speeded up and called on Friedlander who Larry had told me about. It was easy to bribe him. He promised that his assistant would take photographs of you and Larry when you arrived at his apartment. I have a good photograph of you passing Friedlander three thousand francs. Herman might well ask you why you paid such a sum unless the boy involved, was your lover. Not a strong card, but something. I really pinned my hopes on you taking Larry to the villa. I was driving ahead of you when you left Basle and I heard you telling Larry you wanted him to see your home. I knew my gamble had come off.” He smiled. “Larry nearly broke my ear drums with his whoop of triumph. He had assured me you would take him to your home and I had betted him another five hundred dollars he wouldn’t pull it off.”
Helga stubbed out her cigarette and lit another. She remembered Larry’s exuberant cry: “Boy! Am I lucky! Boy! Boy! Boy!” She remembered she had wondered about that: so this was the explanation.
“Of course it was still a gamble,” Archer went on. “You could have raped him in the sitting-room, but I know your style. When there is a bed handy, you use a bed. Anyway, I have a photograph and so we are partners.”
“You certainly value your skin, don’t you?” she said.
“I told you: I’m not the sinking type. Well, Helga, you now know the situation. Are you running to Herman?”
“I get nothing in return?”
“If you mean you don’t get the negatives… you don’t. But you can forget them. They’ll be completely safe. After all, Helga, if you fall, I fall too: we’re partners for as long as Herman lives.”
“Where are the negatives?”
He smiled.
“Winging their way safely to my bank in an envelope marked to be opened only in the event of my death. You are a dangerous woman, Helga. I’m taking no chances. I don’t say you would try to murder me, but I don’t want you to have the slightest temptation to do so. I must admit you nearly gave me a heart attack when you let off that gun.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So it was you I heard?”
“That’s right. While you were hunting for Larry I was getting the camera. You very nearly caught me at it. Incidentally, you had better get an electrician to re-fix the sun ray lamp if you intend to use it.”
“So the negatives will be lodged in your bank,” Helga said. “The envelope is to be opened in the event of your death. If you die what do you imagine the manager of the bank will do when he sees the contents?” She was probing for information and she regarded him with a contemptuous smile. “He will destroy the photographs.”
“No, he won’t. When he opens the envelope he will find inside another sealed envelope with instructions to send this envelope to Herman. I don’t trust you, Helga. I repeat you are a dangerous woman.”
“You’re not being fair to me, are you? You live too well. You have become fat and soft. You could drop dead: men of your age are continually dropping dead through overindulgence. You fly a lot in these little planes. They are not oversafe. You could he killed in a crash. You could have a motoring accident. You could cease to live any time from tonight. You are striking a hard bargain.”
“Put like that I suppose I am, but I would rather be safe than murdered, Helga. You must hope that I keep alive.” He looked at his watch. “I have a busy day tomorrow. It’s my bedtime. Will you please initial the stock list?”
“When are you leaving?”
“Sometime tomorrow afternoon… why the interest?”
“I want to think about all this,” she said and got to her feet “I’ll give you my decision at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”
He sat upright and his heavy face became set. For the first time since she had known him she saw him without his smooth charm.
“Decision?” There was a harsh note in his voice she had never heard before. “What do you mean? You have no choice! I have you where I want you! Initial those pages at once!”
Her lips moved into a stiff smile.
“I agree, Jack… you have me where you want me, but I too have you where I want you. I am facing the loss of sixty million dollars: you are facing at least ten years in a Swiss prison. From what I hear the Establissement de l’Orbe isn’t a convalescent home.”
His eyes turned vicious.
“You are in no position to threaten me! I know what money means to you! Now, cut this out! Initial those pages!”
She shook her head.
“I have a decision to make. I have to convince myself that all that money is worth being landed with a partner who is a thief, a forger and a blackmailer. I’m not convinced. If I give up sixty million dollars, I will still have my freedom, but you won’t. You’ll be in jail… and God! how you will hate that.” She picked up the stock list. “I’ll let you know my decision at three o’clock tomorrow. Give me a telephone call at the villa,” and she went out of the room.
Back in her bedroom, Helga walked over to the window and drew back the drapes. She stood for several minutes looking at the lights of Cassarate, the red sign that spelt out B-R-E, the outline of the mountain and the headlights of the cars coming down from Castagnoia. Snow was beginning to fall: something unusual in Lugano. The lake, glittering in the moonlight, looked like a black mirror.
She was surprised at her calmness and how evenly her heart was beating. She had absorbed the shock. She had been manoeuvred into a trap, and now, she had to consider what she was to do.
Turning away from the window, she undressed and put on pale blue pyjamas. With a pack of cigarettes and her lighter in her hand, she got into bed. She settled herself, turned on the reading light and the room lights off. She lit a cigarette, then relaxed. It was in bed with a cigarette that she always did her best thinking.
First, she asked herself how important was it to her to remain the wife of one of the richest men in the world? To make a comparison, she thought back and considered how she had lived while acting as her father’s personal assistant and then later, as Archer’s. She had earned reasonable money; she had had a lot of fun, freedom and sex. Against this, she had lived in a tiny, rather dreary apartment She had always had snatched meals and no car of her own. She liked clothes but could never afford the clothes she wanted. When on vacation she had to stay at the less grand hotels and she remembered envying those who could afford the best hotels. She had to queue for a cinema or a theatre seat, not being able to afford the best seats. She ate at a good restaurant only when dated. She never had any jewellery until she married and she liked top class jewellery: especially diamonds. She didn’t know until she married the joys of skiing, of tearing through the water in her own high speed motorboat nor owning a Mercedes 300SEL. She thought of her various homes and the servants who gave her constant attention. She thought of the flattering V.I.P. treatment she received at the airports, hotels and luxury restaurants of the world as soon as the name of Rolfe was mentioned.
She finally came to the conclusion that she must cling to her position even if it meant accepting Archer as a partner.
But did she have to accept him?
I would rather be safe than murdered, he had said.
She shook her head.
No! This was stupid and untidy thinking. She knew she could never take a life: even the life of a creature like Archer.
So what was the solution… if any?
She thought about this for some time. For her, she finally decided, the ideal solution would be if her husband dropped dead. Men of his age - he must be nearly seventy - were always dropping dead. What a marvellous and fantastic solution to her problem it would be if the telephone bell rang at this moment and Hinkle broke the news to her that Herman had suffered a heart attack. By dying, Herman would free her from this blackmail threat. She would automatically inherit the estate: no doubt, he would leave his daughter something, but if he didn’t, she could afford to be generous with all that money. But that wasn’t the real magic of Herman’s death. The magic of his death would mean she would have Archer in her power as he now had her in his power. She imagined letting him wait until three o’clock the following day, then she would ask him to come to the villa. “Something I want to discuss with you, Jack,” she would say. “No, not over an open line. Besides, you want the stock sheets, don’t you?” He would come, cautiously perhaps, but triumphant, knowing she had surrendered. She would play with him as a cat plays with a mouse until it would dawn on him he was not going to get the stock list. Then she would listen to his threats and bluster and she would laugh at him.
She paused in her thinking, her eyes narrowing.
I would rather be safe than murdered.
Archer had said that and Archer was also dangerous.
No, before she had her showdown with him, she would have to alert Spencer, Grove amp; Manly. She had already met Edwin Grove, a tall, dried up looking man at a cocktail party in Lausanne. She would telephone him before Archer arrived, telling him the facts and asking him to take all the necessary action; that Archer would be at her villa in two or three hours, and would he alert the police?
Then when she had finished her tongue-lashing, the police would arrive and take him away.
All this… but only if Herman dropped dead.
She stubbed out her cigarette and stared up at the ceiling. She knew instinctively that Herman was going to live for at least another ten years. He had a daily visit from his doctor. He took the greatest care of himself. She remembered the doctor telling her that Herman had a heart of a young man.
She moved restlessly under the sheet.
Dreams!
She forced her mind to become realistic. She was trapped and she might as well admit it. At any rate she would make that fat swine sweat until three o’clock tomorrow, then she would tell him to come to the villa and she would hand him the initialled stock list.
She had been asking for trouble these past four years and now it had arrived. Accept the inevitable, the Dean of the School of Law had once said in one of his dry lectures.
She would have to do that, but that wouldn’t stop her hating Archer and hoping something horrible would happen to him… but he mustn’t the.
She reached for her sleeping pills, took three of them, swallowing them 97
without water with practised ease, then with a little shiver of self-disgust, she1 reached up and turned off the light.
At 10.00 the following morning, Helga telephoned down to the concierge’s desk.
“Is Mr. Archer still in the hotel?”
“No, madame: he left about twenty minutes ago.”
“Thank you… it’s not important.”
She felt sure Archer would have gone out by now, but she wanted to check. She couldn’t have borne running into him in the lobby to see his smirking, fat face and his questioning eyes.
She slipped on her mink coat, glanced in the mirror, adjusted her hat, then picking up the briefcase holding the stock list, she left her suite.
She had the stock lists for the previous month at the villa and she wanted to check the prices against the prices Archer had given her. She wanted to be certain just how much money he had stolen. He had said glibly two million dollars, but she wanted to know the exact sum.
The doorman opened her car door with a flourish. She nodded to him, started the engine, then joined the traffic crawl along the lake.
Drugged by the pills, she had slept heavily and she still felt heavy headed and irritable. The day after tomorrow, she thought, she would have to drive to Agno to meet Herman’s plane. She wondered in what mood she would find him. Usually, after a plane trip, he was testy and difficult. She would have to get something out of the deep freeze ready for Hinkle to cook. Herman was faddy about his food. One of his favourite dishes was breaded veal with spaghetti: this Helga never ate. She had the middle-aged woman’s horror of getting fat. There would be filets of veal in the freezer. She would get them out tomorrow.
She stopped at the Migros store at Cassarate and bought onions, a tin of peeled tomatoes and a tin of tomato puree. She knew there would be packets of spaghetti in the store cupboard. She bought a dozen eggs and a litre of milk. Hinkle was a genius at making an omelette which she could always eat. She paused for a moment thinking, but could think of nothing else to buy. With her purchases in a paper bag, she got into the car and drove up the twisting road to Castagnola. She stopped at the Post Office and collected some dozen letters. The girl behind the counter gave her a friendly smile.
“Will you be staying long, madame?”
“Till the end of the month. Please have the letters delivered tomorrow.”
She drove up to the villa. The snow plough had been at work and the road was clear but there were high banks of snow either side of the road and once when she pressed too hard on the gas pedal, the back wheels of the car slipped, a slip she quickly corrected. The private drive to the villa had also been cleared and the roadman had put down grit. The fifty francs she gave him each February was an investment that produced dividends when snow and ice made the drive difficult.
The garage doors, controlled by an electronic beam swung up and she drove in, parking beside Hinkle’s 1500 Volkswagen. Collecting the mail, her briefcase and the paper bag, she walked along the underground passage to the villa. She remembered she had left the door from the cellar to the villa unlocked and she frowned at her carelessness. Shrugging, she opened the door, shut and locked it, then walked up the stairs and into the big entrance hall. She put the mail on the table and took off her coat and hat which she left in a recess. She carried her purchases to the kitchen, then she looked at her watch. The time was now n. 15. Time for a drink, she told herself, then she must get down to work. It would take her an hour or more to check through all the stock lists… but first a drink.
She walked briskly into the big living-room and then came to an abrupt standstill, her heart missing a beat.
Standing awkwardly by the big picture window, his peak cap in his hand, was Larry.