James Chase - You Find Him, I'll Fix Him

I sat on the arm of a lounging chair and looked at him.

Frenzi was slightly built, under medium height, dark, handsome with intelligent, shrewd eyes. His usually bright face was grave and he wore a worried frown.

“You must have something to keep me company,” he said “Join me in a brandy.”

“Well, okay.”

While he was fixing the drinks, he went on, “This is a very bad business, Ed. The account only says she fell off a cliff. Have you any details? What was she doing in Sorrento?”

“She was on vacation there.”

He brought the drinks over and, giving me mine, he began to move restlessly about the room.

“It’s straightforward, isn’t it?” he asked, without looking at me. “I mean, it was an accident?”

This startled me.

“Confidentially, there is some doubt about it,” I said. “Chalmers thinks she was murdered.”

He hunched his shoulders, his frown deepening.

“And the police — what do they think?”

“They’re coming around to the same idea. Carlotti’s handling the case. At first, he was sure it was an accident; now he’s changing his mind,”

Frenzi looked at me.

“I’m willing to bet it was murder,” he said quietly.

I lit a cigarette and slid into a chair.

“What makes you say that, Giuseppe?”

“Sooner or later, someone was bound to get rid of her. She was asking for trouble.”

“What do you know about her then?”

He hesitated, then came over and sat opposite me.

“You and I are good friends, Ed. I need your advice. I was going to call you when you called me. Can we talk off the record?”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“I met her at a party about five days after she had arrived in Rome. I was foolish enough to become friendly with her for four-or five days — or rather nights.” He looked at me and lifted his shoulders. “You know how it is with me. She seemed beautiful, exciting and everything a man could wish for. She was also alone. I made my offer and she accepted it, but…” He broke off and grimaced.

“But — what?”

“After we had spent four nights together, she asked me for money.”

I stared at him.

“You mean, she wanted to borrow money from you?”

“Well, no. She wanted money for services rendered: as sordid as that — quite a lot of money.”

“How much?”

“Four million lire.”

“For the love of mike! She must have been crazy! What did you do? Laugh at her?”

“She was serious. I had trouble in persuading her that I hadn’t such a sum. There was a very disagreeable scene. She said if she told her father, he would ruin me. He would get me dismissed from my paper.”

I felt a sudden chill crawl up my spine.

“Wait a minute. Are you telling me she tried to blackmail you?”

“That’s the technical name for it, I believe.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I compromised. I gave her a pair of diamond ear-rings.”

“You didn’t submit to blackmail, Giuseppe?”

He shrugged.

“It is easy to criticize, but I was in a very difficult position.

“Chalmers is powerful enough to get me removed from my paper. I like my job. I’m not good at anything else. It was her word against mine. I haven’t a very good reputation with women. I was pretty sure she was bluffing, but I couldn’t afford to take the risk. The ear-rings cost me thirty-four thousand lire, so I suppose I got off fairly lightly: much lighter than one of your colleagues.”

I was sitting forward now, staring at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t the only one, of course. There was another newspaper man — an American — who she tricked in the same way. Never mind who he is. We compared notes together later. He parted with a diamond collar that cost him most of his savings. Apparently, she specialized in newspaper men. Her father’s influence was more readily felt in that field.”

I felt suddenly sick. If what Frenzi had said was true, and I was sure it was true, then it was obvious that Helen had set a trap for me, and if she hadn’t fallen over the cliff, I also would have been taken for a blackmail ride.

I saw then that if this story of Frenzi’s got out, and the police discovered that I was the mysterious Mr. Sherrard, here was the obvious motive for her murder. They would say she had tried to blackmail me; I was unable to pay, and, to save my new job, I had pushed her off the cliff.

It was my turn now to wander around the room. Fortunately, Frenzi wasn’t looking at me. He remained in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

“You see now why I think she could have been murdered,” he went on. “She might have tried this stunt once too often. I can’t believe she went to Sorrento alone. I’m sure there was a man with her. If she was murdered, all the police will have to do is to find him.”

I didn’t say anything.

“What do you think I should do? I’ve been trying to make up my mind ever since I read of her death. Should I go to the police and tell them how she had tried to blackmail me? If they really think she was murdered, it would give them the motive.”

By now I had got over my first shock. I returned to my chair and sat down.

“You’ll have to be careful,” I said. “If Carlotti passed on what you tell him to Chalmers, you’d still be in trouble.”

“Yes, I realize that.” He finished his brandy, got up and refilled his glass. “But do you think I should do it?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t. I think you should wait until the police are sure it murder. You don’t want to rush into this thing. You can’t afford to. You must wait and see how it develops.”

“But suppose they find out she and I were lovers. Suppose they think, because I had a motive, that I killed her?”

“Oh, talk sense, Giuseppe! You can prove you were nowhere near Sorrento when she died, can’t you?”

“Well, yes. I was right here in Rome.”

“Then for the love of mike, don’t be dramatic.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“You are right. So you think I should say nothing to the police!”

“Not yet. Chalmers suspects there’s a man involved. He’s like a mad bull right now. If you came forward, he would jump to the conclusion that you were the man and he’d go for you. You may as well know the facts: Helen was pregnant.”

Frenzi’s brandy glass slipped out of his fingers and dropped to the floor. The brandy made a little pool on the carpet. I gaped at me, his eyes widening.

“Was she? I swear it wasn’t me,” he said. “My goodness I’m damned glad I didn’t go to the police before I talked to you He picked up his glass. “Look what I’ve done!” He went into the kitchen to find a cloth. While he was gone, I had time to do some thinking. If Carlotti believed and could prove that Helen was murdered, I knew he would make every effort to trace the mythological Sherrard. Had I covered my tracks well enough prevent him finding me?

Frenzi came back and mopped up the spilt brandy. Squatting on his heels, he practically voiced my thoughts by saying, “Carlotti is very thorough. I’ve never known him to fail on a murder case. He could get on to me, Ed.”

He could get on to me, too.

“You have an alibi he can’t upset, so relax,” I told him. “Chalmers has given me the job of finding the man who might have killed her. Maybe you can help me. Could he have been the American newspaper man you were telling me about?”

Frenzi shook his head.

“Not a chance. I was talking to him on the afternoon she died.”

“Then who else is there? Any ideas?”

“No,’ I’m afraid not.”

“There is a man she knew whose first name is Carlo. Do you happen to know anyone of that name?”