Джеймс Чейз - I Hold the Four Aces

‘And madame,’ Hinkle went on, ‘as it is so late, I have booked rooms at the Trois Couronnes Hotel at Vevey for tonight.’

‘Thank you.’ Helga turned to Grenville. ‘It is a five hour drive from Vevey to Castagnola. We shall arrive tomorrow in time for lunch. Hinkle, what about food?’

‘I have given Transel instructions, madame. He will stock the deep freeze.’

Helga sighed and rested her head on Grenville’s shoulder. She relaxed as the Rolls took them along the lakeside and towards Vevey.

At the Trois Couronnes, Helga said good night to Grenville, pressed his hand, her eyes alight with promises, and then was escorted to her room. As soon as he was in his room, Grenville put through a call to Archer at the Hotel de Suisse in Lugano.

‘It’s all arranged,’ Archer told him. ‘There is nothing for you to worry about. In three days, the operation will begin.’

‘I’m not so sure there is nothing to worry about,’ Grenville said, uneasily. ‘This man of hers... Hinkle... worries me.

‘Hinkle?’ Archer’s voice shot up. ‘Is he here?’

‘He’s very much here, and very much in charge. He took one look at me and hated me. I know the signs. These ghastly old family retainers can be deadly.’

‘Yes.’ Archer, in his turn, became worried. ‘Hinkle, like Helga, is nobody’s fool.’

‘Well, it’s your funeral. You work it out.’

‘It’ll work out. Love her, Chris. That’s your job. She will override Hinkle once she is sure you want to marry her. I’ll look after the rest.’

‘Just as long as you do,’ said Grenville, who was now in a surly mood.

‘Be careful how you handle Hinkle,’ Archer went on. ‘Be nice to him: flatter him. Don’t overdo it, Chris, but pour oil.’

So the following morning, Grenville came from the hotel to where Hinkle was dusting the Rolls.

‘Hello, Hinkle,’ Grenville said in his smoothest manner. ‘That’s really a beautiful car. Tell me about it.’

‘I would say, sir, it is the best car in the world,’ Hinkle said coldly.

‘An entirely new line. The Silver Shadow doesn’t compare with it. I always prefer a two-door job.’

‘The body work is of the master stylist, Pininfarina. This model is the first to use the latest Lucas Opus electronic ignition.’

Not knowing what Hinkle was talking about, Grenville wandered around the car.

‘I suppose it eats petrol?’

‘When one is fortunate to own a car like this, sir, one must expect it to use petrol,’ Hinkle said, still cold and aloof.

‘Yes.’ Grenville turned on all his charm. ‘Madame Rolfe tells me how well you look after her, Hinkle. I too want to look after her.’

Hinkle regarded him, his fat face expressionless.

‘Yes, Mr. Grenville.’

Trying again, Grenville said, ‘I want to make her happy as I know you make her happy.’

That didn’t get him anywhere for Hinkle opened the boot of the car and put away the feather duster.

Grenville realized he had a problem on his hands. Hinkle was definitely hostile.

Then Helga appeared.

‘Do we go?’ She went up to Grenville and kissed him lightly on his cheek. ‘Hinkle? No problems?’

‘The luggage is in the boot. We can leave when you wish, madame.’

‘Then let’s go. Chris! I can’t wait to show you my Swiss home!’

Some ten years ago, Herman Rolfe had bought the villa at Castagnola, just outside Lugano, from an American movie producer.

The villa had everything that an imaginative and rich movie producer could devise: an indoor heated swimming pool, an outdoor swimming pool and a vast terrace overlooking Lugano and the lake. There were four bedrooms, each with deluxe bathrooms; sauna baths, servants’ quarters, a tiny elevator that conveyed logs from the cellar to the big fireplace, two chair lifts that took you to the main highway if you wanted to go for a walk and didn’t want to descend the hundred and fifty steps through the garden which was floodlit at night. There was a kitchen with its push-button miracles, fully equipped to produce dinner for some twenty people. The stereo radio and gramophone could produce music in every room if you pressed the right button. Every room had a colour TV set. There was a deep freeze cabinet run by its own generator so electrical cuts didn’t matter. Speaker-boxes wired to every telephone throughout the villa allowed you to talk to anyone in any city in the world without moving from your chair, so finely tuned you could hear someone breathing in Tokyo or anywhere else in the world. There was also a movie projection room with twenty plush seats and a vista-vision screen.

Grenville was fascinated as Helga happily showed him around.

They had had lunch on the way. Hinkle had gone to the kitchen. The rooms were ready.

Helga led Grenville to her bedroom.

It was a beautiful room with apricot-coloured leather-padded walls, mirrors, a fitted white wool carpet and fumed oak fittings. The king-sized bed dominated the room.

‘Chris, darling!’ Helga said. ‘Hinkle understands. We sleep here!’

Grenville, feeling a little stifled by so much luxury in spite of what he had been used to, asked if he could take a swim.

‘The pool, Helga! It’s marvellous. Could I?’

‘You are free to do what you like, Chris. This is your home!’

She left him, humming under her breath, and went into the kitchen where Hinkle, wearing a white coat, was preparing dinner.

‘Hinkle! I’m so happy!’ she exclaimed. ‘Isn’t he wonderful?’

‘He would appear so, madame,’ Hinkle said in his lower tone.

Helga laughed.

‘Oh, Hinkle! I want to marry him! But you will always be with us.’

‘I trust so, madame.’

Laughing, she caught hold of him and whirled him away in an old-fashioned waltz. Without touching her, Hinkle followed her steps and they danced around the kitchen, then she kissed his cheek and left him. His fat face sad, Hinkle began to cut up a chicken.

In her bedroom, Helga threw off her clothes, put on a bathing cap, covered her nakedness with a wrap, and ran down the stairs to the bathing pool.

Grenville was lazily floating, his eyes closed.

Helga dived in, swam under him, surfaced and then dragged him down under the water. Startled, Grenville broke free, spluttering to see Helga, naked, swimming with the ease and speed of a dolphin. He saw at once he was way out of her class so he moved to the side of the pool and watched her.

What a magnificent swimmer! he thought as she did four lengths at a speed that made him envious, then she came to him and entwined her arms and legs around him. Her mouth found his and his hands slid down her body, pulling her hard against him.

Later, they sat on the terrace, watching the sunset. As the sky turned to a fierce furnace red, Helga took Grenville’s hand.

‘I have always hoped to find someone like you, Chris,’ she said.

‘But it’s no good, darling,’ Grenville said, moving into his act. ‘It is marvellous now, but for how long?’

‘What do you mean?’ She looked searchingly at him.

‘You and I.’ Grenville wondered how many times he had made this speech. ‘It is not possible, Helga. This moment of loveliness will go. If you weren’t so rich...’

She took her hand from his and turned to look directly at him. That direct stare bothered him.

‘Explain yourself, Chris!’ The snap in her voice warned him he wasn’t dealing with some stupid old woman.

‘Surely, Helga, it is obvious. If you weren’t so rich, I would ask you to marry me. That would give me the greatest of all happiness, but Englishmen just don’t live on their wives.’

‘I’ve never heard such nonsense!’ Helga said. ‘Who said you had to live on me? You have many talents. You and I, working together, could make a terrific combination.’