James Chase - An Ace up my Sleeve

“No, madame.”

“All right, Hinkle… I’ll be telephoning as soon as I have news. She hung up.

“That was smart, ma’am,” Larry said. “You see… a problem is a challenge… Ron’s right.”

She wasn’t listening. She was thinking now of Archer. Here was another problem: suppose he wouldn’t come to the villa? Suppose he became suspicious that she might be up to something? He held the whip hand. He could refuse to come and insist that she should come to the hotel.

As if following her thoughts, Larry said, “How about Archer? Can you get him up here?”

“I’m not sure… let me think.”

She walked to the window and looked down at the lake, her mind busy. The whole plan would be defeated if Archer refused to come and he might well refuse. She would refuse if she were in his place. Why should he come? He had said she was dangerous. She felt suddenly sure that he wouldn’t come, but he would insist she brought the stock list to the hotel… unless she could trick him into coming.

She moved away from the window, picked up a cigarette and lit it. She was aware that Larry was watching her. She looked at her wristwatch. The time was 12.05. There was a chance Archer would have returned to the hotel for a pre-lunch cocktail. He was expecting her to call at 15.00. She decided the only way to trap him was to bustle him into coming so he would have no time for caution nor to suspect this could be a trap.

A fidgeting movement from Larry broke her concentration. She looked impatiently at him.

“Excuse me, ma’am. I could do with something to eat. Is there anything to eat?”

She pressed her hand to her forehead.

“For God’s sake, don’t bother me… I’m trying to think. Go to the kitchen and help yourself!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

As he left the room she sat down and picked up her drink. She sat still, her mind concentrating on the problem. Finally, after ten minutes of thought, she came up with a possible solution. Considering this solution, she was now fairly satisfied that she could get Archer to come to the villa. But once he was there, would Larry be able to handle him? He seemed certain he could, but suppose Archer refused to sign the letter? He might have more steel in him than he appeared to have. If Larry failed, Archer would take his revenge. Then she remembered the deadly note in Larry’s voice and the remote, cold look in his eyes when he said: He’s soft and fat. That would be no problem.

Sink or swim, Archer had said. Well, she too wasn’t the sinking type.

“It’s all ready, ma’am,” Larry said coming to the door. “Come on… you gotta eat.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Oh, come on, ma’am. We could have a rough afternoon. Have you thought of something?”

“Yes.”

“Fine… let’s eat.”

Shrugging she went with him into the kitchen. He had made a vast bowl of spaghetti, using the peeled tomatoes, the tomato puree and the onions she had bought.

It looked so appetising that she suddenly felt hungry. Together, in silence, they demolished the pasta.

“You’re quite a cook, Larry.”

He gave her his warm, friendly smile. “Yeah… I’m not bad… my Ma taught me.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “When are you getting him up here, ma’am?”

She stood up, pushing the kitchen chair away from her.

“If he’s coming… in about half an hour.”

She went into the living-room for a cigarette. Larry followed her.

“Any idea how he will come, ma’am?”

“He has a hired car.”

As Larry stripped the wrapping from a piece of gum, she lit her cigarette.

“Do you think if I opened the garage door, he’d drive in?”

She looked at him, puzzled.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, ma’am, it would be best if we did the talking in the games room downstairs.” He looked around the elegantly furnished room. “This is a nice room. It would be a shame to mess it up.”

Again she felt as if an icy draught had blown around her.

“You’re not going to… hurt him?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. I hope not.” He smiled. “But some of these elderly finks think they are younger than they are. I might have to smack him a couple of times. I don’t reckon I’ll have to, but if I did and he fell over, the best place for him to fall over would be in the games room, wouldn’t it?”

Suddenly, she felt slightly sick.

“He’s no fool, Larry. I couldn’t persuade him to go down to the games room. He would immediately suspect something.”

Larry chewed and thought about this.

“Yeah… well, that’s okay. I won’t smack him so hard then. If I have to soften him, I’ll take him down to the games room. So maybe we’d better not waste any more time, ma’am. Will you get him up here?”

She hesitated for a few moments. Should she do this? Was she bringing further disaster on herself? Then she remembered Archer’s merciless eyes as he had said: Decision? You have no choice! I have you where I want you!

She went to the telephone and dialled the number of the Eden hotel.

“Is Mr. Archer in the hotel, please?”

“A moment, madame.”

She waited several moments.

“Hello, yes? Who’s that?” Archer’s voice boomed over the line. She could tell by the pitch of his voice that he was on his third cocktail.

“Jack! I have to see you! Something’s happened!” She put urgency in her voice.

“Is that you, Helga?”

“Yes… of course! Will you come to the villa at once?”

“What do you mean? I’m about to have lunch.” All the charm had gone from his voice now. “We have an appointment at three and I’m expecting you here.”

“I’m catching a train to Milan in two hours, Jack. I’m flying back to New York tonight.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She caught an uncertain note in his voice.

“Don’t ask questions, Jack. We’re on an open line. Hinkle has just telephoned. There is an emergency. It’s bad. I’m flying back tonight.”

“Good God! Is it…?”

“Jack!” Her scream cut him short. “Not on an open line. Hinkle says it is touch and go. Not a word, Jack! This could upset the market… it could plunge… will you come?”

“You damn well bet I’m coming! Be with you in ten minutes,” and the line went dead.

Slowly she replaced the receiver: a surge of triumph running through her. It had been an inspired thought and it had worked. She had conveyed to Archer that Herman was either dying or dead. She had mentioned the Stock Market. That would stop him trying to check if it was a lie or not. She knew even the slightest rumour that Herman was ill would send prices plunging. For Archer, this would be the time to sell before the news hit the headlines, men when the market had absorbed the shock, to buy back. He would also realize as he came storming up the St. Moritz highway that with Herman dead, he would lose his power over Helga. He would be in the mood to try to make a bargain.

She looked at Larry.

“It worked,” she said breathlessly. “He’s coming.”

Alone, Helga stood by the window that overlooked the private road leading to the villa, a cigarette burning in her fingers. Her heart was thumping and she felt cold in spite of the heating. She was committed now: there was no turning back. She hated violence. She could never bear to see violence on the movies or the TV screen and yet she knew there would be violence here this afternoon. She knew once Archer realized he had been tricked he would be like a raging, vicious bull. She had no doubt that Larry, a much younger and fitter man could cope with him, but the thought of what was to come sickened her.

Larry had said he would stay out of sight until Archer was in the living-room.