Джеймс Чейз - Believe This... You’ll Believe Anything

Shocked, I stared at her.

‘Be careful when you leave,’ she went on. ‘Make sure there’s no one outside.’

I was dressed now. As I bent to kiss her, she pushed me away.

‘No... please go! We’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘When tomorrow?’ The panic in her eyes made me uneasy.

‘When he goes. I don’t know. Wait for me in the lobby. As soon as he goes.’

‘Oh, Val... I can’t believe this has happened. I...’

‘Please go! Suppose he walked in...’ She shivered.

I went to the sitting room door, opened it silently and peered out into the long corridor, then drew hurriedly back as I saw a man and woman moving towards the elevators.

‘What is it?’ She had come to the bedroom door, still naked. Her whisper was loaded with fear.

I raised my hand to silence her, then peered out again. Aware that my heart was now thumping. Her fear had communicated itself to me. The couple entered the elevator. Without looking back, I moved into the corridor as the elevator doors slid shut. I walked quickly down the corridor to the stairs and down then to the third floor and to my room.

I went immediately to the bathroom and stared at myself in the minor. There was a smudge of lipstick by my mouth. I stared at my pale, excited face. There was a different look about me that was hard to define. Could it be I now looked younger and was that guilty fear in my eyes?

I ran cold water and bathed my face, then going into the bedroom, I opened the french windows and stepped out on to the balcony.

The night air was hot and humid. The big moon rose high above the distant city lights. I could hear the soft strains of the dance band and somewhere under the palms, a girl laughed.

With unsteady hands, I took out my pack of cigarettes and sat down in the lounging chair. I lit the cigarette and stared up at the moon.

Now drained of desire and alerted by Val’s warning, I realised that I had been crazy to have given way to that overpowering sexual urge. Val had been crazy too. Both of us were to blame. We had completely lost control of ourselves.

I remembered what she had said, you don’t know what he is like. If he found out, he would ruin you. He is so vindictive and vicious . It had been the frightened tone of her voice more than her words that sent a chill up my spine. I knew from past experience that Val wasn’t easily frightened. I had seen enough of Vidal to know she hadn’t been talking heedlessly nor as an alarmist. Those arrogant, confident eyes told me as nothing else could that if he ever found out about us, he would exact a vicious revenge.

Then my mind switched to Rhoda. If she ever found out! I was sure she would be nearly as vindictive as Vidal. She would never forgive me for preferring another woman.

My conscience was now tormenting me. I thought of tomorrow. Should I make an excuse, say I was ill, say anything to avoid spending the next five days with Val, knowing the danger of giving myself away when with her to some sharp eyed onlooker? Could I spend whole days with her with Rivera at the wheel without alerting his suspicions that she had taken me as her lover?

I pulled myself together.

This was stupid, panicky thinking. It had happened and it mustn’t happen again. It had been, I told myself, an explosive madness and it was now over. But even as I told myself this, even after loving her but an hour ago and drained of desire, I knew it wasn’t and couldn’t be over. No matter how great the risk, if she wanted me, I knew I wouldn’t and couldn’t resist her.

So I sat on the balcony, unaware of the passing hours, thinking of her.

Val! Married to Vidal! It was unbelievable. How had they met? Then I remembered Olson had told me that Vidal was once a client of his. Maybe she had met Vidal when she had been working with Olson.

But why had she married this balding dwarf? According to Olson, at that time, Vidal was far from rich. She couldn’t have married him for his money. Then what had induced her to prefer him to me?

That was something that disconcerted and hurt me far more than finding her tied to this now wealthy tycoon and so obviously frightened of him.

I took these thoughts to bed with me. I scarcely slept and when the waiter brought me coffee at 07.30 I was glad to get up.

I went down to the lobby at 08.30. The hall porter bowed to me.

‘Roberto is waiting, señor, ’ he said.

‘I’ll have a word with him.’ I paused, then asked, ‘Is Mr. Vidal in the hotel?’

‘ Señor Vidal left at eight.’

I went out to where Rivera was lounging in the shade. He came over to me, smiling, his gold teeth flashing in the sun.

‘Good morning, Señor Burden. Beautiful morning. You had a fine night?’

‘Thank you. Where is the car?’

He pointed. I went over and inspected it. He had had it cleaned and it now looked reasonably presentable.

‘Much hard work,’ Rivera said mournfully. ‘Very big car.’

‘I’ll see if Mrs. Vidal is ready.’

Returning to the lobby, I picked up one of the telephones and asked to be connected to suite 7.

Val came on the line almost immediately. The sound of her voice again made my nerves tingle.

‘Good morning, Mrs. Vidal,’ I said, aware the hall porter was listening. ‘The car is waiting. We can leave whenever you are ready.’

‘Thank you. I will be down in a few minutes.’

I hung up and wandered over to the kiosk where I bought a pack of cigarettes.

Val appeared from the elevator ten minutes later. She was wearing a blue and white flowered shirt, white stretch pants and her hair was caught back with a white bandeau. She looked breathlessly beautiful.

‘Good morning, Mr. Burden,’ she said brightly. Her eyes were impersonal and her smile remote. ‘Where are we going this morning?’

‘Would you step over here for a moment, please? I would like to show you the schedule.’

I moved to an isolated settee and she followed me. We sat down, out of earshot of the hall porter and the reception desk.

As I took the schedule from my pocket, I said, keeping my voice low, ‘There’s a complication, Val. We have a chauffeur. It’s my own damn fault. I didn’t know it would be you. It would be dangerous to get rid of him. He might talk.’

I saw the disappointment in her eyes, but she kept her face expressionless as she said, ‘So what do we do?’

‘He doesn’t want to work in the afternoons. He says it would be too hot. We could meet in my room after lunch. I must talk to you, Val!’

She thought about this, then she nodded.

‘All right. Let’s go now. Where are we going?’

‘To see the Izalco volcano. He’ll tell you about it. I’ll sit up front with him. Be careful Val. He’s a Maya and no fool. Don’t make any slips.’

Together, we went out into the sunshine. Seeing us come Rivera scrambled out of the car and opened the rear door, sweeping off his sombrero as he did so.

‘Good morning, señora. A beautiful day. We go on a beautiful excursion. Very, very interesting. I tell you the history as we go.’

Val thanked him and got in the car. I went around and got in beside Rivera.

I don’t think either Val nor I heard more than a few words of Rivera’s drone. All I could think of was the coming afternoon when we would be alone together. The drive to the volcano was long, dusty and tortuous. Parts of the road were so bad we had to crawl.

Eventually we arrived at Hotel de Montana which stands empty but from which Rivera assured us, we would have a fine view of the crater. At any other time, the perfect shaped cone, dark grey in colour, would have been an impressive sight to me, but my mind was too occupied with the thought of the coming afternoon to be anything but impatient as Rivera praised its magnificence. He was sharp enough to see that neither Val nor I were showing sufficient interest.