James Chase - A Can of Worms

“Best thing,” I said as I sat down. There were pancakes, sausages, grilled ham and a pile of scrambled eggs.

Jarvis sat by my side as I ate. He talked of his friend, Washington Smith. I listened and did a lot of sad head wagging, but the recital didn’t stop me eating.

“It is something I can’t understand,” Jarvis said. “People who are rich enough to employ servants are unpredictable. To be dismissed after fifteen years’ service! It is quite shameful.”

I said it was, finished the coffee, then patted his arm.

“I can’t see that happening to you, Mr. Jarvis.”

“I trust not, but Mr. Herschenheimer is also unpredictable.”

Taking the tray, he left me. I went down to the tree, climbed it and surveyed the ranch house. Josh Jones was standing in the doorway of the front door, smoking. Around his waist, cowboy style, was a gun belt from which dangled a mean-looking.45. Hidden in the foliage of the tree, I watched him. He remained there, breathing in the warm air, motionless and menacing. I told myself that Coldwell and his men wouldn’t have a picnic when they moved in.

After a while, he stepped back and closed the front door. I waited, but there was no further action. I wondered what was happening to Nancy. Maybe, like the old nut, she was under sedation.

When it was 11.30, I returned to the cottage and waited for Carl to relieve me. As soon as he arrived, I got in the Maser and headed for Mel Palmer’s office.

Palmer’s secretary was a sexy-looking doll with Venetian red hair and a bust line that would make a brigade of guards misstep. She eyed me the way she would eye a roach in her soup.

“Mr. Palmer,” I said, giving her my sexy smile. “Bart Anderson.”

“Have you an appointment, Mr. Anderson?” Cool and distant as the moon.

“Just tell him. I don’t need an appointment.”

She hesitated, then rising from behind her desk, she went into an inner office. She was a tail-wagger: a condition that always makes me horny.

She stood in the doorway and jerked her head.

“Mr. Palmer will see you.”

As I passed her, my right hand strayed, but that had happened to her countless times, and my hand encountered nothing.

Palmer, dwelling behind a big cigar, regarded me doubtfully.

“What is it, Anderson?”

I selected a comfortable chair and sat down.

“Your client, Mrs. Nancy Hamel,” I said. “She is your client?”

“Of course. What about her?” He looked impatiently at his watch. “I have an important lunch date.”

“This is something you will want to hear, and it can’t be rushed. Did you know Mrs. Hamel had an identical twin sister?”

He blinked.

“No, but is that important?”

“The twin is Lucia Pofferi, an Italian terrorist wanted for two murders. Her husband, Aldo Pofferi, is also a terrorist; one of the leaders of the Italian Red Brigade, wanted for at least three murders, and I have proof he murdered Russ Hamel.”

If I had driven a nail into his fat behind, he couldn’t have reacted more. His face flushing, his eyes bulging, he jumped to his feet.

“Are you drunk?” he squealed. “How dare you say such a thing!”

“The FBI have the facts, and they are taking action tonight.”

“Good God!” He sank into his chair and began mopping his face with a silk handkerchief.

“It’s a complicated story,” I said. “You had better hear it from the beginning. When it is finally sorted out, the publicity will be red hot. It can’t do Hamel’s books any harm. Handled right, it should treble his sales, and you’re the man to handle it right.”

That made him take notice as I knew it would. He put away his handkerchief and put on his business face.

I gave him the same story as I had given Lu Coldwell. I concluded by saying, “So the set-up is this: the two terrorists hold Nancy Hamel in her home. The woman who joined you when I found Hamel dead wasn’t Nancy, but Lucia.”

“Damn it! I’ll swear it was Nancy, he muttered.

“Identical twins, and you saw her in half-light and you were naturally shocked. Nancy will certainly be murdered once she has been forced to sign a batch of cheques which will give her sister access to Hamel’s money.”

He sat and thought, then he nodded.

“That would explain it. Only this morning, this woman telephoned me. She sounded hysterical. She told me she couldn’t attend her husband’s funeral and asked me to handle all the details. She asked me to leave her alone. She had to grieve by herself.”

“Sure, that figures. Lucia wouldn’t want to expose herself to a lot of mourners, and she’s not risking seeing you again.”

“Good God!” Palmer began to mop his face again.

“I’m going to make a suggestion to you, Mr. Palmer,” I said, putting on my sincere expression. “I’m going to suggest that you appoint me as Mrs. Hamel’s representative.”

He stopped mopping his face and regarded me suspiciously.

“Mrs. Hamel’s representative? What does that mean?”

“Someone, representing her, should be on the spot when the Pofferis are taken. Someone who can get Mrs. Hamel away before the press move in. Mrs. Hamel will be in shock. She must not be exposed to the press until she has recovered.” I leaned forward and stared hard at him. “You are Mrs. Hamel’s representative. Do you want to be there during the gun battle? The FBI expect to kill both Pofferi and his wife. It will be a battlefield. Do you want to be there or do you want me to be there, acting on your behalf and Mrs. Hamel’s behalf?”

He reacted as I knew he would react. The very thought of putting himself anywhere near a gun battle made his face turn a shiver.

“Yes, yes, I see what you mean. Would you do that, Mr. Anderson?”

I put on my modest expression.

“That’s my job. Leave this to me I guarantee Mrs. Hamel’s safety, and also guarantee the press won’t get near her.”

“How will you do that?” He frowned suspiciously. “How will you get her off the Largo without the press knowing about it?”

I hadn’t battered my brains for nothing. I had all the answers.

“ By helicopter, Mr. Palmer.I have a good friend who owns a chopper. As soon as the battle is over, he will land and we’ll whisk Mrs. Hamel away. I suggest you reserve a penthouse suite at the Spanish Bay. They have a chopper landing pad on the roof. Mrs. Hamel can stay there until she recovers. The hotel won’t let any unauthorised person near her.”

His fat face brightened.

“That is an excellent idea. The Spanish Bay Hotel have a resident doctor and nurse should Mrs. Hamel need medical care. I’ll leave the helicopter arrangement to you Anderson. I will take care of the reservation. I must go now.”

“There are two little things, Mr. Palmer,” I said, giving him my boyish smile. “I need written authority from you that I am acting as Mrs. Hamel’s representative. The FBI might be difficult unless they know I have official standing.”

“Yes, yes.” He called in his tail-wagging secretary and dictated to her the necessary authorization. “Get it typed right away.”

She eyed me as she left the room.

“And the second thing?”

“Expenses. I’ll need two thousand for the chopper and the pilot.”

He stiffened.

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Danger money, Mr. Palmer. There’s going to be a shoot-up. The money will come from Hamel’s estate, so why should you care?”

“Yes, of course.”

The secretary returned with the authorization, and Palmer signed it.

“Give Mr. Anderson two thousand dollars in cash, Miss Hills.” Palmer shook my hand and made for the door. “When will this operation take place?”

“Tonight.”

“I will be waiting at the hotel.” Nodding, he was gone.