Джеймс Чейз - I Hold the Four Aces

‘Yes... a present from an Austrian count. I did him a minor service.’ Grenville thought of the dreadful hours he had spent, pushing the fat woman around the ballroom.

Helga looked sharply at him. Was there a mocking expression in the dark brown eyes?

‘And what are you doing in Paris?’ she asked.

‘Business and pleasure.’ He waved his hand in dismissal. ‘I take it you are here to buy clothes. Will you be staying long?’

‘I am also here on business, but I shall also be buying clothes.’

Grenville appeared to be surprised.

‘I can’t believe a woman as beautiful as you, can be in Paris on business. Surely not!’ Then he clapped his hand to his forehead. ‘Rolfe? Of course! The Madame Rolfe! How stupid can I be!’

The oysters arrived in a bed of crushed ice and Claude hovered.

‘They are truly splendid, Monsieur Grenville. I have fed them myself.’

They were splendid.

Grenville nodded his approval, and Claude went back to the kitchen.

Smiling, Grenville said, ‘So you are the fabulous Madame Rolfe. I can’t pick up a newspaper without reading about you. I am flattered. And you are staying at the same hotel as I am, what a coincidence!’

Helga looked straight at him.

‘I happen to be an extremely wealthy woman who finds life often excessively boring, being in my position,’ she said quietly.

Grenville regarded her, then nodded sympathetically.

‘Yes. I can imagine: the prying eyes of the press, no real freedom, gossip and great responsibility.’ He shook his head as he speared an oyster. ‘Yes, I understand.’

‘What is your business?’ Helga asked abruptly. She now wanted information about this exciting man.

‘This and that. Don’t let us spoil a meal with sordid things like business. You have Paris at your feet, and Paris is one of the most exciting cities in the world.’ Grenville then moved into one of his monologues about Paris that was so enchanting, Helga listened, spellbound. He was still talking as the sole cardinal was served and he was still talking without a moment of dullness when coffee was served.

‘I haven’t enjoyed a meal so much nor have been so educated in years,’ Helga said, smiling at him.

Grenville returned her smile, shrugging.

‘Yes, the meal was good. I talk.’ He shook his head. ‘It is when I have a perfect companion that I talk too much. Now, alas, I have to return to business. I have a dreary appointment. Let me drive you back to the hotel.’

He left her for a few moments while he settled the check and had a word with Claude. After handshaking and smiles, they left the bistro and got in the Maserati.

As he started the engine, he said, ‘I wonder if you would feel like repeating this. I’ll try not to talk so much.’ He gave her his flashing smile. ‘There is a little restaurant at Fontainebleau. Would it amuse you to dine with me tomorrow night?’

Helga didn’t hesitate. This man really intrigued her.

‘That would be wonderful.’

He drove her back to the Plaza Athénée Hotel and escorted her to the elevator. As they waited for the cage to descend, they regarded each other.

‘May I call you Helga?.. It’s a beautiful name,’ Grenville said.

‘Of course, Chris.’

‘Then tomorrow night at eight here in the lobby?’

She nodded, touched his wrist and entered the elevator.

Joe Patterson, sitting in one of the alcoves, watched with astonishment. When Helga was whisked out of sight, Grenville strolled over to Patterson.

‘There is no problem, Mr. Patterson... just a few more days,’ then leaving Patterson gaping, he walked over to the concierge’s desk.

‘A card and an envelope, please,’ he said.

‘Certainly, monsieur.’

Grenville wrote on the card: Thank you for your beauty, and your company. Chris.

He put the card in the envelope, sealed it and put Helga’s name on the envelope.

‘Send twelve red roses to Madame Rolfe and charge me,’ he said, then leaving the hotel, he walked to where he had parked the Maserati.

That evening, Archer and Grenville met Patterson in the grillroom of George V Hotel. Patterson was in a good mood and slightly drunk.

‘You’ve picked the right man, Archer,’ he said, after they had ordered. He grinned at Grenville. ‘You’re a real fast operator. You really turned the doll on. She was all over you.’

Grenville raised his eyebrows.

‘It is my profession, Mr. Patterson.’

‘Yeah. Well, you’re a slick operator.’

They waited until the smoked salmon was served, then Patterson went on, ‘I want you to understand this project, Grenville. It can’t miss,’ and he went on to explain about the siting of the holiday camps. Grenville listened politely while Archer, who had heard it all before, attacked his food. ‘Land isn’t easy to come by these days,’ Patterson waved his fork, ‘but I’ve got an option on a slice of land down in the South of France: a very fine position. I reckon I could get it and put a deluxe camp on it for around two million bucks. Your job now is to convince her to put up the money. I’ve got all the papers here and a beautiful brochure for her to see. You study them, and if there is anything you’re not sure about, talk to Archer. He knows.’

Grenville said he would do that.

‘Once you’ve got her on the hook,’ Patterson went on, ‘there are other sites. I’ve got my eyes on a beauty in Corsica. You could mention that to her.’

Archer decided it was time to bring Patterson down to earth.

‘I must remind you, Mr. Patterson, that Helga is a tough business woman. She won’t be content to act as a sleeping partner if she does put money into this project. She is likely to want part control.’

Patterson scowled.

‘I won’t have some goddamn woman messing around with my project.’ He looked at Grenville. ‘Tell her she’ll get twenty-five per cent on her money, but no control!’

Rather to Archer’s surprise, Grenville said smoothly, ‘There should be no problem. I have every confidence I can arrange this to your satisfaction.’

Beaming, Patterson patted his arm.

‘That’s talking. You study all this stuff, and get it set up. How long do you reckon it’ll take to get her money?’

Grenville shrugged.

There was a pause while the steaks were served, then he said, ‘Most unwise to rush it, Mr. Patterson. I would say at least ten days.’ He gave his flashing smile. ‘I have still to get her to bed.’

‘Yeah. Well, that’s okay, but I want you to keep the cost down.’

‘One shouldn’t cut corners when going after two million dollars,’ Grenville said as he cut into his steak. ‘Madame Rolfe has the impression that I am wealthy. I must keep up appearances.’

‘Sure, but watch it, I’m not made of money.’

‘Who is these days?’ Grenville said airily, and then launched into one of his monologues concerning the night life of Paris. He was so well-informed that Patterson became interested.

The meal over, Patterson asked Grenville to write down the address of a high-class brothel he had mentioned.

‘I guess I’ll take a look,’ Patterson said and winked. He called for the check.

‘Ask for Claudette,’ Grenville said gravely. ‘She has just that little extra.’

‘Claudette, huh? Well, fine. Okay, you two. Keep in touch. Go easy on the spending,’ and slightly unsteady, Patterson left the grillroom.

‘What a ghastly little man,’ Grenville said and waved to a waiter. ‘Some brandy and more coffee, please.’

‘Ghastly, yes,’ Archer said, ‘but he provides me with a living for the moment.’

‘You don’t believe for one moment that Helga would fall for this ridiculous project?’ Grenville asked, lifting his eyebrows.