James Chase - An Ace up my Sleeve

She sat down. She was sipping the brandy when the telephone bell rang. The sound so startled her she slopped some of her drink. Hastily putting down the glass, she crossed to the telephone and picked up the receiver.

It was the Reception Manager of the Eden hotel.

“Madame Rolfe… a telex has just come in for you. Would you like me to send someone up to you with it?”

Now what? she wondered, flinching.

“No… no… please read it to me.”

“It’s from Mr. Rolfe. It says: “Have instructed expert to fix central heating. He promises action this night. No wish to cancel my flight. Telephone me when fixed”.”

Helga turned cold.

“Would you like me to repeat that, madame?”

“No, thank you. I have it. Thank you for calling,” and she hung up.

The grandfather clock that had cost Herman Rolfe more than six thousand dollars began to chime.

Helga glanced at her watch. The time was 21.25. The Grandfather clock was a collector’s piece and wasn’t expected to keep faithful time.

Since Herman’s telex, Helga had sat with a blank mind, waiting for the central heating engineer. She was now beginning to think he wasn’t coming. Inhere had been no sound from Archer. Her threat seemed to have cowed him. She had smoked innumerable cigarettes and she had drunk another brandy. She was feeling slightly light-headed, but in spite of the heat from the radiators, she felt cold.

She had pulled up the shutter covering the smaller of the three windows and had pulled back the drapes. The distant lights of Lugano and the two red warning lights on the TV and radio masts on top of the mountain helped against the growing feeling of claustrophobia.

Then she heard the noisy engine of an approaching car. She went to the window. She saw a Volkswagen, snow on its roof, pull up by the front door and a man get out. He leaned into the car and took from it a heavy tool case which he slung over his shoulder.

She braced herself and went to the front door just as he rang. As she opened the door, an icy blast greeted her, making her shiver. She had had no idea it had turned so cold and her mind flew to Larry.

“Schroder… heating engineers,” the man said in Italian. She could see the puzzled expression in his eyes as he felt the warmth coming from the hall. “You have trouble here, madame?”

“Come in.” She couldn’t bear the cold for a moment longer. The freezing air cut into her like a knife.

He stepped into the hall and she closed the door.

“I’m sorry Mr. Rolfe called you,” she said. “When I arrived, I couldn’t get the heating to work. I was being stupid. It’s working perfectly now. I’m so sorry.”

The Engineer, a middle-aged, heavy-faced Swiss, smiled cheerfully.

“That’s all right, madame. The great thing is it’s working. My boss was worried. He didn’t want you to freeze up. Mr. Rolfe was threatening to sue us.”

Helga forced a smile.

“Mr. Rolfe is always threatening to sue someone… he never does.”

“While I’m here, madame, I’ll check the motor. My boss wants to send a telex back to Mr. Rolfe.”

“No… don’t bother.” It would be far too dangerous to let him down to the cellars. She spoke hurried. “It’s working perfectly. I - I was just being stupid. I forgot to press the right button. I can’t think why I forgot’

The Engineer shifted the sling of his bag.

“It’s no bother… it’s my job.” Then she saw a puzzled look come into his eyes. He was looking at the chest pulled across the door to the cellars. She knew he had been here before and knew the geography of the villa.

“I’m sorry,” she said firmly. “It is not convenient. I am very tired and I was just going to bed when you arrived. Wait a moment.” She went quickly to her bedroom and with shaking hands, she opened her purse and took out a fifty franc note. Then as she was leaving the room, she heard the heavy thudding sounds from the cellars.

Archer, she thought, panic seizing her, must have heard the front door bell ring and with new courage, was attacking the door again.

When she regained the hall, she found the Engineer was examining the chest. The thudding sound from below created such a din that it set Helga’s teeth on edge. Somehow she kept her face expressionless.

Please take this. Thank you for coming. I’m telephoning my husband. There is no need for you to go to the expense of sending him a telex. I’ll explain everything… it is entirely my mistake.”

His eyes opened wide when he saw the fifty franc note.

“Thank you, madame… thank you very much.” His eyes went to the cellar door. The thudding sound was now alarmingly loud.

“A friend of mine… he’s making something,” Helga said huskily and opened the front door.

“Well, madame, if you’re sure…”

“Yes. It’s working perfectly!”

He moved out into the cold.

“Good night, madame, and thank you.”

As she closed the front door, she heard a sudden sound of splintering wood and then a crash as the cellar door slammed open and banged against the wall.

She clenched her fists.

He was out!

Her breath rasping in her throat, she looked at the heavy chest against the door. Would that be enough to stop him forcing the door open? Then as she heard Archer come pounding up the stairs she also heard the engine of the Volkswagen whirr into life and the car drive away.

She leaned against the wall, staring at the door. She could hear Archer’s laboured breathing, then she saw the door handle turn.

“Jack! Get away from that door!” she cried. “This is your last chance! Get away from that door or I’ll call Larry!”

“He’s not here,” Archer panted. “I know! You can’t bluff me! I heard the car and I know where he’s gone… he’s gone to Basle! Open up or I’ll break the door down! Do you hear? Open the door!”

She stared at the door. How could she make it safe? Then she remembered a scaffolding pole the builder had forgotten that was in the garage.

She ran to the front door, opened it and stumbled down the steps to the garage. The cold bit into her, but she ignored it. She opened the garage doors, found the pole and caught hold if it. It was heavy and clumsy to handle but she carried it back up the steps and into the hall.

She paused to stare at the door. The lock was now broken and the door was open an inch, but the chest was holding it. She could hear Archer’s heavy breathing as he paused for his final effort. Would the pole be too long? Her own breathing was laboured. She wedged one end of the pole against the skirting of the opposite wall, then lowered the other end against the door. She gave a little sob of relief as she saw it was a fit. She jammed the pole down, forcing the door shut.

Archer made his effort and she heard his body thud against the door. The pole held the door solid and she heard his gasp of pain as his shoulder crashed against the door which didn’t yield.

She heard him curse. The step at the door wasn’t wide enough to give him much purchase. He wouldn’t be able to use his foot, she thought. He would soon get tired of bruising his shoulder.

“You bitch!” Archer snarled. “Open the door!”

She went into the kitchen to where the tool chest was kept. Herman was a great believer in having tools in all his homes. He never used them himself but expected Hinkle to cope with any small emergency. She found a heavy, wooden mallet and with that, standing on a chair, she hammered the pole more securely into place.

While she was working, Archer called her every obscene name that came to his mind.

Dropping the mallet, now sure the door was safe, she went unsteadily into the sitting-room. Again she looked at her watch. She had still three - possibly four - hours before Larry returned.