Джеймс Чейз - I Hold the Four Aces

‘And suppose it is no?’

So she was going to bluff, and his uneasiness increased.

‘That is up to you,’ he said. ‘Grenville is in the hands of vicious people. I regret having to deal with them. If you refuse to pay the ransom, they will cut off one of his ears, and will force me to deliver it to you. This is a terrible situation for me. I am in the same trap as Grenville. I assure you, Helga, if you want him back, you must pay.’

Still regarding him from behind the shield of her sun goggles, she said, ‘You are in a trap?’

‘I’ve explained that to you. I didn’t know I was dealing with the Mafia,’ Archer said. ‘They are utterly ruthless. I am forced to do what they tell me.’

‘How sad for you,’ Helga said.

He flushed.

‘We are wasting time! What is it to be? Yes or no?’

Again Helga moved like a cat stretching, then she reached for her drink and finished it.

‘What do you know of a man called Timothy Wilson?’ she asked.

Startled, Archer stared at her.

‘Timothy Wilson? I am not interested in any Timothy Wilsons! I am asking you: is it yes or no?’

Helga reached for a cigarette and lit it.

‘There was a time when I thought you had brains, were shrewd and clever. Since you turned embezzler, forger, blackmailer, and now a creature of the Mafia, I have come to regard you as beyond contempt.’

Archer clenched his fists.

‘Now listen to me! I have had enough of your insults! If you want your lover back, you will arrange to pay ten million dollars into an account in Geneva! If you don’t want him back, then say so!’

Helga’s lips moved into a bitter smile.

‘Poor, shabby Archer,’ she said. ‘How stupid can you be! Let me tell you about Timothy Wilson. His father was a badly paid golf pro who, at least, taught his son to play good golf. This boy had looks, and a burning ambition. Although he claims to have gone to Eton and Cambridge, actually he left home when he was sixteen, and went to Paris as an apprentice at the Crillion Hotel. There he learned French, but his work was unsatisfactory. He then went to Italy, where he was a waiter in a small restaurant in Milan, but he did learn Italian. His work was never satisfactory. His main interest in life was women. From Italy, he went to Germany, and became a waiter at the Adlon Hotel, and learned German. A rich, elderly woman fell for him, and offered him marriage. They married, and for two years he lived on her, doing nothing, then he got bored with her. He found another rich old woman who offered marriage, and he married her. Again he tired of her demands, and married yet another rich old woman. Before all this happened, Timothy Wilson changed his name to Christopher Grenville.’

Archer felt a shock run through him. He began to say something, but Helga went on, her voice steely, cutting him short. ‘I have Grenville’s or Wilson’s police dossier,’ she said. ‘He is wanted by the German police for bigamy.’

As Archer slumped down in his chair, sweat beading his face, he heard the telephone bell ring in the living-room.

‘Do you still like the look of your four aces?’ Helga asked. ‘That was what you said? You held the four aces?’

Hinkle came out onto the terrace.

‘Excuse me, madame, Mr. Grenville is on the telephone, asking to speak to you.’

As Helga shook her head, Archer’s last shred of hope vanished.

‘I have no wish to speak to him,’ she said.

‘Very well, madame.’ Hinkle returned to the living-room. In the heavy silence that followed, Archer heard Hinkle say, ‘Madame has no wish to speak to you.’

Then Helga took off her sun goggles and stared directly at Archer. The blazing fury in her eyes frightened him.

‘Get out! I don’t believe one word you have said to me! The Mafia! That is a crude joke! You and this despicable bigamist dreamed up this ridiculous plot to get money from me! You told me you didn’t know him, you cheap liar! I have police proof that you two have been seen together! Get out of my sight! You haven’t even the intelligence to bluff! Go away!’

Archer looked as if he were about to have a heart attack. He clawed at his collar as he struggled to breathe.

Helga watched him, her face a stone mask.

Finally, gasping, Archer said, ‘Helga, you must listen to me! You must believe me! I will tell you the truth. Grenville and I did concoct this plan for you to think he had been kidnapped. I had a shady contact in Geneva, and stupidly, I asked him to get me two reliable men to fake the kidnapping. I swear I am telling you the truth! Once they got Grenville, it turned into a genuine kidnapping. They have taken my passport! They forced me to come to you. Doesn’t Grenville mean anything to you?’ He waved his hands in despair. ‘You loved him! Unless you pay this money, they will disfigure him! They are utterly ruthless and vicious! Helga, you must do something to help him!’

Helga lit another cigarette, and Archer saw her hands were steady.

‘Yes, I did love him,’ she said quietly, ‘but now that is finished. How could any woman continue to love a cheat and a liar: a man so degraded, he will marry time and again, old women, so he can live in luxury?’ Her voice turned strident and leaning forward, her face alight with fury, she screamed at him, ‘I don’t believe one word of your Mafia lies! You were always a cheap bluffer! Get out! You can consider yourself lucky I don’t hand you and your bigamist over to the police, but I warn you, if you ever come near me again, you will regret it! Now get out!’

Hinkle appeared on the terrace, and touched Archer on his shoulder.

Almost crying, Archer staggered to his feet.

‘Helga! I swear I am telling you the truth!’ he cried. ‘These people...“

With surprising strength, Hinkle caught hold of Archer’s arm, turned him and pushed him off the terrace and to the front door.

Archer stumbled down the drive and slumped into his car. Hinkle watched him drive away, then returned to the terrace.

Her fists clenched, her lips trembling, Helga said shakily, ‘Pack, Hinkle. I will leave tomorrow.’

‘That would be wise, madame.’

He gave her a brief glance, his expression sad, then he went into her bedroom and took her suitcases from the closet.

Helga put her hand across her eyes. Timothy Wilson! Not only a cheat, but a bigamist! And how she had loved him! A man, according to the police, who preyed on old women! She didn’t believe a word Archer had said about the Mafia. He had tried to bluff her in the past, and she had called his bluff. He and Grenville had hoped this stupid Mafia threat would have frightened her to pay. To hell with both of them!

She drew in a long deep breath. Men seemed fatal to her. Somehow, she must rid herself of this nagging sexual urge that continually got her into trouble. She closed her eyes, and her mind re-created those marvellous moments when she had been lying in Chris’s arms. Had he been a thief, or even a murderer, she could have forgiven him, but being a despicable calculating bigamist... no!

She got to her feet, and went to her bedroom where Hinkle was carefully packing her clothes.

‘It’s a mess, isn’t it, Hinkle? she said, forcing a smile. ‘I’ll be glad to leave.’ She touched his arm. ‘Thank you for being such a good and loyal friend to me.’

Hinkle looked sadly at her.

‘You have courage, madame, and with courage, there can be no defeat.’

As Archer drove back to Paradiso, he felt like a panic-trapped mouse. As Helga had refused to speak to Grenville, Bernie would have guessed she wouldn’t pay the ransom. What would Bernie do? He would either turn Grenville free or become vicious.

Whatever he did, Archer wanted no part of it. He decided he would pick up his suitcase and drive fast to Geneva. He would tell the U.S. Consulate that he had lost his passport.