Джеймс Чейз - I Hold the Four Aces

Hinkle’s expression was that of a man who had bitten into a quince, but he instantly assumed a deadpan look.

‘Then may I offer my congratulations to Mr. Grenville,’ he said, ‘and my very best wishes to you, madame.’

‘Thank you, dear Hinkle. Chris is going to make me so happy!’ Helga said. ‘I can no longer continue my life alone. I know you know how lonely I am. It will be marvellous to have him by my side. For me not to worry about going out alone: to be able to come alive after these dreary years with Mr. Rolfe.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Hinkle! Do understand and do approve.’

‘Of course, madame,’ but the disapproving note in his voice remained. He got to his feet.

‘Oh, sit down!’ Helga exclaimed, suddenly angry with him. ‘We will leave for Paradise City at the end of this week. I want you to handle all the arrangements. It will be a big wedding.’

Hinkle remained standing.

‘You may rely on me,’ he said, in his lowest tone.

Helga knew Hinkle. When he was upset, nobody could do anything with him. He had to be given time.

‘As long as I can always rely on you, Hinkle,’ she said gently.

‘Yes, madame. You may always rely on me. Now, if you would kindly excuse me, I have things to do in the villa.’

Helga watched him cross the terrace, his back stiff. If only he had been pleased, she thought, but she must give him time. She must talk to Chris. He must understand how important Hinkle was to her. Chris must make a sincere effort to win Hinkle’s approval. In the past, when she had married Herman, Hinkle had disapproved of her, but she had worked on him, and finally, at the most difficult period of her life, he had proved loyal. [3] See The Joker in the Pack .

Moving quietly, she went to her bedroom, gently opened the door and peered in. Grenville, who was dying for coffee and a cigarette, heard her as she turned the door handle and quickly put his hand over his eyes.

Helga regarded him, then softly shut the door.

God! Grenville thought. What a hellish day this was going to be! But he must keep up this pretence until Archer’s men took him away. He consoled himself by thinking of what it would mean to own a million dollars. For the first time, since Archer had so smoothly outlined his plan for the kidnapping, Grenville began seriously to think about it. He was uneasy about Helga. There was this steel fibre in her that awed and worried him. There was a possibility, in spite of Archer’s glib assurances, that she could turn ugly once she realized she had been conned. Thinking about this, he decided it would be dangerous to remain in Europe once he had got his share of the money. After further thinking, he decided he would fly to the West Indies the moment Archer had given him the million dollars, charter a yacht, find some enthusiastic dolly bird and get lost. When the smoke had settled, he would then return to Europe which was his happy hunting ground.

Then a thought entered his mind that made him stiffen and frown.

Could he trust Archer? he asked himself. What did he know about Archer? They had met by chance in that depressing little hotel in Paris. Was Archer really an international lawyer? Grenville moved uneasily. Could Archer be one of these smooth con men you heard about? Admittedly, he must have known Helga. His knowledge of her proved that. Grenville thought of Archer’s shabbiness. The arrangement was for the ransom of two million dollars to be paid into Archer’s numbered account in a Swiss bank. On the face of it, that made sense, but what claim would he (Grenville) have on the money once it was in Archer’s account? Suppose Archer disappeared?

Grenville began to sweat. Although a wastrel and a gigolo, he had an acute sense of self-preservation. How was he to safeguard himself against a possible con from Archer?

Lying in the semi-darkness, Grenville considered this problem.

At exactly 14.00, Max Segetti, with Jacques Belmont at the wheel of a battered VW, pulled up outside the Hotel de Suisse. Archer, who had already checked out, was waiting for them in his rented Mercedes. He waved to them to follow him and drove through the busy streets of Lugano to the lake front and then on to Paradiso. He kept looking in his driving mirror to make sure the VW was following him.

After a ten-minute drive, he pulled up outside the rented villa. The VW parked by the Mercedes and Segetti and Belmont, carrying shabby suitcases, joined him. They were both wearing dark suits and looked slightly more respectable than when he had first seen them in Geneva.

‘No problems?’ Archer asked, speaking in Italian.

‘No, sir,’ Segetti said and smiled.

‘You have the hoods and the guns?’

‘Yes, sir. We came via Zurich to avoid the Italian customs, No problems.’

‘Well, come in.’ Archer led the way through the small neglected garden, unlocked the front door and entered the living-room. ‘Sit down.’

The two men sat down in armchairs.

Archer began pacing the room.

‘The operation will be at eleven o’clock tonight. You will find the front door of this villa unlocked. Burst in, threaten the man and the woman with your guns and take the man away. You will bring him here and that terminates our agreement. I will pay you, and you will leave immediately for Geneva and forget that it happened.’

Segetti nodded while Belmont sat motionless staring down at the threadbare carpet.

‘And where is this villa, sir?’ Segetti asked.

‘I will take you there in a few minutes. There could be one difficulty. There is a manservant. He could be awkward. If he appears, one of you must take care of him.’ Archer paused, then went on, ‘There must be no violence.’

For the first time, Belmont spoke. With an evil little grin, he said, ‘That’s okay. I’ll take care of him.’

The menacing note in his voice made Archer stare at him.

‘I repeat... no violence.’ He looked at Segetti. ‘Is that completely understood? I would rather the kidnapping failed than to have violence.’

‘It won’t be necessary, sir,’ Segetti said.

‘The man to be kidnapped will offer only a token resistance,’ Archer went on, ‘but nothing more. He wants to convince the woman that he is being kidnapped. You understand?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Segetti said.

‘All right. Now I’ll sum up: at exactly eleven o’clock tonight, you will arrive at the villa, using my car. You will park at the bottom of the drive. You will walk up the drive to the villa. The front door will be unlocked. You will burst in. The man and the woman will either be in the living-room or out on the terrace. As you enter the lobby, the door, leading to the living-room, will face you.’ Archer took a sheet of paper from his wallet. ‘Here is a plan of the villa. Look at it.’

Segetti studied the plan, then nodded.

‘That is fine, sir,’ he said.

Archer produced another slip of paper.

‘I have written down the exact words you are to say to the woman and I want you to memorize these words.’ He handed the slip of paper to Segetti. After reading the words, Segetti smiled. ‘Jacques, this will be your job,’ and he handed the paper to Belmont. Looking at Archer, he went on, ‘Jacques can do this very well.’

‘I don’t care who says them so long as they are said convincingly,’ Archer said. ‘You will take the man to the car and drive him here. That’s it. I will pay you, and you leave for Geneva immediately.’

‘No problem, sir,’ Segetti said.

‘All right. I will now take you to the villa. Let’s go.’

Archer, feeling more satisfied that these two men would do a successful job, drove them in his Mercedes to Castagnola. He drove slowly. From time to time, he asked Segetti, who was sitting at his side, if he could remember the route.