James Chase - An Ace up my Sleeve

Three days!

To have this boy to herself for three days turned Helga hot It was a risk. They would arrive at the villa at 14.00. But since Herman and she came only to Castagnola for a month in the year they had no social life nor did they know anyone in the district. It was only a slight risk, she assured herself. There was no one to raise eyebrows or to gossip.

Now was the moment, she thought as she drove down the narrow, twisting road that led directly to the lake, to alert Larry. She would have to handle him gendy. He was such an odd mixture. She thought of the two girls. They could have drained him of all sexual desire. He might think a woman older than himself undesirable in his present mood… she doubted that. A man of his build must have a lot of resilience, but she must be careful.

“Tell me, Larry, what are you plans?” she asked abruptly.

He gave a little start as if startled to find her by his side.

“My plans, ma’am?” He chewed for a long moment. “I I’ll look for a job.”

“Do you think you’ll get one?”

“Oh, sure… I’ve got jobs before. Yeah, I’ll get one all right.”

“But you’ll need a work permit, Larry.”

He glanced at her, then lifted his heavy shoulders.

“Is that right? Weil, I guess I’ll have to get a work permit then.”

She restrained her exasperation with an effort.

“I don’t think you know really what you are saying,” she said as gently as she could. “Work permits here are difficult to get. Now listen, Larry, I want to help you. I know you’re against accepting money, but I would like to make you a loan. You must have some money while you try to get a work permit. You can always pay me back later.”

He shook his head.

“Thanks, ma’am, but I’ll manage. I appreciate the offer. My old man would flip his lid if he knew I was taking money from anyone.”

“But your father won’t know unless you tell him,” Helga said as if speaking to a child.

He remained silent for so long she looked sharply at him. He was staring blankly at the car ahead of them, chewing, his face screwed into an expression of thought. She decided not to hurry him and she waited as she drove into the thick traffic and into the centre of Lugano.

Finally, he said, “Well, ma’am, I appreciate it. You’re right about my old man. I needn’t tell him, but it bothers me that I might not be able to pay you back. I’ve cost you enough already.”

“Suppose you let me bother about that?” She was now happy, realizing at last she had broken through the crust of his obstinacy and was reaching him. You see, Larry, money doesn’t mean a great deal to me. I have it, and when I can help people, it makes me happy to do it.”

He took a little time to consider this, then he nodded.

“Yeah… I guess I would feel the same way too, ma’am, if I had money.”

They were now driving along the lake at a crawl. The traffic along the lake was always slow and congested.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” she said.

“It sure is, ma’am.” He looked at the lake glittering in sudden pale sunlight and at the distant hills, with the snow covering the trees. “What do they call this place?”

“This is Lugano. We are now going to my home. I’d like you to see it. It’s not far from here.”

“Your home?” He turned and looked at her, his jaw moving as he chewed and he smiled his warm smile that set her blood on fire. “I didn’t expect to be taken to your home.”

She laughed.

“Why not? You can stay the night… there’s plenty of room, then I will see what I can do for you tomorrow.”

“You mean you are asking me to stay the night in your home?”

“Why not?”

He slammed his big hands down on his knees with such violence she was sure he had hurt himself.

“Boy!” he exclaimed. “Am I lucky! Boy! Boy! Am I lucky!”

Helga looked sharply at him. There was just too much exuberance in his voice to ring true. She had a moment of doubt, even fear, but as he swivelled to look at her, his smile so warm and friendly, the doubt and the fear went away.

“I’m glad you’re pleased, Larry.”

“You don’t know what this means to me, ma’am,” he said. “I was getting scared. I couldn’t see myself sleeping rough in a place like this. I couldn’t think where I was going to sleep.”

You’ll sleep with me, Helga thought as she said, “Don’t worry about that, Larry.” She smiled at him, resisting the urge to put her hand on his. “Don’t worry about anything.”

Helga lay on the king-size bed, her nakedness covered by her black chiffon wrap, her arms and legs spread wide in total relaxation. She looked around her big bedroom contentedly.

It was a beautiful room with apricot-coloured leather padded walls, mirrors, a wall-to-wall fitted white wool carpet and fume oak fitted furniture. A mirror, facing the vast bed, told her she looked sensually beautiful and fifteen years younger than she was.

She and Larry had stopped in Castagnola at a small restaurant and had the expected greasy Swiss meal of pork chops and chips, then she had driven him up the St. Moritz highway to the villa.

She had been pleased by his reaction to the villa. His stunned expression as she unlocked the heavy oak, nail studded front door and took him through the lobby and into the vast living-room gave her an excited lift until she remembered her own astonishment when she had first walked into the room.

“Gee!” He stood staring around. “This is really something! It’s just out of the movies!”

“It is… it was once owned by a movie director. Take your coat off. Look around.”

Together they explored the house. At first, he made exclamations of surprise as the luxury of the place unfolded before him. He gaped at the indoor, heated swimming pool, looked through the double-glazed windows at the outdoor swimming pool and the big terrace and the distant view of Lugano. He began to grow silent as he stood in the movie projection room with its twenty plush seats and the vista-vision screen. He just stood, saying nothing as she showed him the four bedrooms, each with their deluxe bathrooms. Then she began to realize that so much luxury and comfort was making a bad impression on him. There were other things to show him: two sauna baths, the tiny elevator that conveyed logs from the cellar right to the big fireplace, the two chair lifts that would take you down to the main highway if you wanted to go for a walk and didn’t want to descend the hundred steps through the garden. There was the kitchen with its push button miracles, fully equipped to produce a dinner for twenty people, the stereo radio and gramophone that could produce music in every room or in any room provided you pressed the right button. Also the colour TV set in every room, me deep freeze cabinet, the speaker-boxes hooked to the telephone which allowed you to talk to anyone in any city in the world without moving from your chair: tiny loudspeakers so finely tuned you could hear someone breathing in Tokyo… so many other things but she saw now that like a child fed too many chocolates, he was turning sour, perhaps even sick at so much luxury.

She broke off the sight-seeing tour and said, “I’ll show you your room. It’s just across the way.”

She opened a door and led him through a covered passage to another door. She unlocked it, mounted stairs and into a narrow passage with three doors leading from it. The first door led to Hinkle’s room. The next door led to a bathroom. The third door led to a small room which was seldom used. She opened the door.

“Make yourself at home, Larry. Use the bathroom. I want to unpack and change. I’ll telephone you in an hour or so. If you want to wander around, go ahead. Be at home.”