Джеймс Чейз - I Hold the Four Aces

‘I want to tell you about this deal, Chris,’ she said, sitting by his side. ‘You will be handling it. It is going to be big and the French government are trying to be greedy. Let me begin from the beginning...’

For the next hour, Grenville nearly went crazy with boredom while Helga talked figures, costs, loans, interest rates and so on. Somehow, he managed to keep an intelligent expression and nod from time to time, but the crunch came when she paused and said, ‘Now you know the setup, Chris. What is your opinion?’

Grenville flinched. He had no opinion because he had scarcely listened to what she had been saying and even if he had been listening, all this financial talk meant nothing to him.

‘Before expressing an opinion, Helga,’ he said carefully, ‘I would like to study the papers and the figures. Would that be possible? I’ve warned you I’m green about finance, but I think I could be a bit intelligent if I had a couple of hours looking at the plans and the figures.’

Helga, looking disappointed, nodded.

‘All right, Chris. I’ll get Winborn to fly copies of the contract and figures down here right away. I can see your point.’

She reached for the telephone at her side and called Paris as Hinkle arrived with a shaker of vodka martini and glasses.

Grenville thought, At least, I’ve gained time!

As Hinkle poured the drinks, Helga spoke to Winborn’s secretary and told her to send copies of the Versailles contract and the figures immediately.

‘I want it by tomorrow,’ she snapped and hung up.

‘Will you be dining in, madame?’ Hinkle asked.

‘Let’s go out, darling,’ Grenville said hurriedly. He felt he had to get away from the villa and away from financial talk. ‘Isn’t there somewhere amusing where we could eat?’

‘Of course. That’s a good idea. We will go to Huguenin: it is simple, but good. No, Hinkle, we will go out.’

When Hinkle had left the terrace, Grenville, anxious to get Helga’s mind off business, began asking questions about her Paradise City home. Helga was happy to give him a description of the house and time moved swiftly. A little after 20.00, she went to her bedroom to change and Grenville remained on the terrace. Another twenty-seven hours, he thought.

After a good Italian-style dinner, they wandered, hand in hand, along the lakeside. Helga was now relaxed, her mind at ease. This man was going to be her husband! She kept looking at him, admiring his tall, lean figure and his handsome face. She thought of the excitement of the wedding preparations. What a surprise it would be for Loman and Winborn! She wondered when she should tell them. She decided it would be wise to hold back the news until they had met Grenville and until she had told them that he would be a senior partner. She imagined they wouldn’t be happy about this, but there was nothing they could do about it! She was in complete control of the corporation, holding seventy-five per cent of the shares. The other directors would also raise their eyebrows, but to hell with them! It was a little disappointing that this tall, handsome man hadn’t shown any real interest in the corporation as yet, but she mustn’t rush him. Working with him, she was sure she could ignite his interest.

She realized she was neglecting him so she asked about his game of golf.

Grenville too had been wandering along, thinking of tomorrow night’s kidnapping, still a little uneasy about the results. He began to tell her about his game of golf with the pro, and like most golfers, he gave her a blow-by-blow account of his game, which rapidly bored Helga who thought golf a complete waste of time, but she simulated interest and said, ‘Bravo!’ when Grenville concluded by saying he had thoroughly beaten the pro.

Returning to the villa, they found Hinkle waiting up for them.

‘Now, Hinkle,’ Helga said firmly, ‘in the future, after dinner, you must go to your room. I know you like TV. If there is anything I want, I will ring for you, but I do not want you to wait up for us. Is that understood?’

Hinkle inclined his head.

‘Very well, madame, if that is your wish.’

‘Mr. Grenville will lock up. So after dinner, please relax.’

Listening to this, Grenville drew in a sigh of relief. Maybe Archer was right when he had said everything was going their way.

Grenville came awake soon after 07.00. Helga, by his side, was sleeping.

This was the day, Grenville thought, but he had to get through twenty-two hours before he was liberated. He was sure those awful papers and accounts would arrive in a few hours. Then Helga would expect him to study them and then express an opinion. This he couldn’t face. His only escape was to feign illness. This was nothing new to him. Time and again, when he could no longer bear the company of his various old women, he had pleaded migraine. It was a certain winner.

He lay still until Helga began to move, then he released a little moan. Over the years he had perfected this sighing moan that was very convincing.

Helga came awake and sat up.

‘Chris? What is it?’

‘Nothing.’ He put his hands over his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just the usual damn thing.’

She leaned over him anxiously.

‘Are you in pain?’

‘Pain? It’s migraine. Once in a while I get these attacks.’ Grenville suppressed a moan. ‘Look, darling, just leave me be. If I stay still, it’s not all that bad.’

‘Migraine! My poor darling!’ Helga slid out of bed. ‘I’ll get you something.’

‘No, please don’t. I always ride it out.’ He managed to sound brave. ‘I’m sorry about this, but just leave me. Even talking hurts.’

‘Of course, Chris. Would you like some tea? Can’t I do anything for you?’

‘No... nothing. It’ll probably go away in an hour or so.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Helga hesitated, then as he continued to remain still, his hands covering his eyes, she went into the bathroom, took a hasty shower, then moving silently, she dressed.

Watching her between his fingers, Grenville now and then released his little moan.

‘Chris, darling... let me call a doctor.’

‘No doctor has ever cured migraine,’ Grenville said. Then with an obvious effort, he took his hands from his face. ‘I’ll be all right. Just leave me here, please, and darling, don’t fuss.’ Then he closed his eyes.

Worried and upset, Helga went onto the terrace where Hinkle was watering the flowers. Seeing her, he turned off the hose and came over to her.

‘You are early, madame. Is something wrong?’

‘Mr. Grenville has an attack of migraine,’ Helga said. ‘We mustn’t disturb him.’

Hinkle’s fat face became expressionless.

‘Yes, madame. It is a disagreeable ailment. Will you have coffee on the terrace.’

‘Yes, please.’

She drank the coffee while she worried about Grenville. As Hinkle came to take the tray away, she said, ‘You wouldn’t imagine a man such as Mr. Grenville could be a migraine victim, would you, Hinkle?’

Hinkle lifted his eyebrows.

‘I believe it is a nervous complaint. No, madame, you wouldn’t have thought so.’

Helga felt an urgent need to confide in him.

‘Don’t go away Hinkle. I want to talk to you. Please sit down.’

‘I would prefer to stand, madame,’ Hinkle said with a slight bow.

She laughed.

‘Oh, Hinkle! How correct you always are, and yet I regard you as my best friend. Please sit down.’

‘Thank you, madame, and very well, madame.’ Hinkle perched himself on the edge of a terrace chair.

‘I must tell you! Mr. Grenville and I are going to get married,’ Helga said. ‘He has agreed to become a senior partner of the firm.’ She drew in a happy breath. ‘We plan to marry next month.’