James Chase - An Ace up my Sleeve

“When did you call him?” Helga asked.

“When you went to the village. I just had to tell him… I was stupid.” He stared miserably at her. “But I didn’t think he would do anything. He often got wild, but he never did anything. I never thought he would call you and tell you all those lies. I heard him tell you to call the cops. That’s what he wants. If they come here, they’ll find out I’m AWOL. Ron knows if they pick me up, I’ll be sent back to Hamburg and after I come out of the Stockade, he will be waiting for me. The fact is, ma’am, Ron likes me more than I like him. He can’t live without me… I know he can’t. That stuff about me being in the papers was all jealous lies… lies to make you call the cops.”

Helga drew in a long, deep breath. She had had many dealings with homosexuals. Her hairdresser in Paradise City was one. The Captain of Waiters at her favourite New York nightclub was another. Her Couturier in Paris and the simpering little artist who had decorated this bedroom… dozens of them in every walk of life who she loathed and despised and who she knew could be viciously jealous, envious and unpredictably spiteful to each other and yet, at times, so marvellously gentle and kind.

“Yes, she could believe this story. She relaxed back on her pillow. God! How terrified she had been! The Hamburg Strangler! How stupid to have believed such a malicious story, let alone allow it to have frightened her so!

“You do believe me, ma’am? You won’t call the police?”

So he was one of those! It was hard to believe as she looked at him, but where had she heard some all-in wrestler, wearing a cloak and a top hat, had been a pansy?

She suddenly hated the sight of this big, hulking boy. She wanted to scream at him to leave the villa this very moment, but then she remembered those awful moments when Archer had escaped. Larry had to remain here to control Archer until the photos arrived. With a sinking heart, she thought of the long day and the long night ahead of her before the photos did arrive.

“Yes, Larry, I believe you,” she said. “I didn’t understand… I do now.”

“You don’t know what hell it is in the Army when you’re like me,” he said, half to himself. “I couldn’t stand any more of it.”

She didn’t want to hear: he was a neuter thing to her now and he bored her. All right, Larry… now go to bed.”

He got reluctantly to his feet.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t want you to know. You’ve been so good to me.”

Yes… go to bed!” She could scarcely conceal her impatience to get rid of him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He walked to the door, hesitated, looked hopefully at her, then went out, closing the door gently behind him.

She lay still listening to his receding footfalls, then she put her hands to her face and began silently to laugh.

What a joke against her!

She had picked up this lump of maleness, longing to take him into her bed. She had spent money on him, fed him, dangled her charms before him, risked her reputation, risked sixty million dollars, had been blackmailed because of him and had had to listen to glib lies from another of his beastly breed who had terrified her as she had never been so terrified… and for what? For trying to inveigle a loutish, immature, brainless queer into her bed!

What a goddamn joke!

Finally, her bitter laughter ceased. She got out of bed and locked the door. Going into the bathroom, she swallowed three sleeping tablets, then she got back into bed.

She thought of Nassau and its miles of golden beach.

There would be lots of men there… real men. She would have to be careful, of course, but during the day, Herman would be fully occupied.

There would be opportunities… there were always opportunity

She reached up and turned off the light. She lay still in the darkness, willing herself not to think while she waited for the tablets to send her to sleep.

It wasn’t until 10.25 the following morning when Helga emerged from her bedroom. She had slept heavily, but dreamlessly. She had a slight headache and she was in an irritable mood.

While she had bathed and dressed, she had thought of Larry and the desire grew in her to get rid of him as quickly as was safe.

“Coffee, ma’am?”

Larry was standing in the kitchen door. His expression was downcast and he avoided meeting her eyes.

“Thank you: that would be nice,” she said briskly and impersonally as if talking to a servant. She went to the front door and checked the mail box. There were several letters and she returned to the sitting-room, flicking through them. There were two letters for her from women friends back home and the rest were for Herman.

She was reading her letters when Larry brought in a tray with toast, marmalade and coffee.

“Nothing to eat,” she said without pausing in her reading. “Thank you. Just put it down.”

He hung around like a child in disgrace, for some moments watching her reading, then as she paid no attention to him, he returned to the kitchen. She drank her coffee, completed reading the letters which were full of the latest ‘Who-is-now-sleeping-with-whom’ scandals and other gossipy items. After she had readdressed her husband’s letters to Nassau, she went into the kitchen.

Larry was sitting on a kitchen chair, his big fists resting on his knees while he stared at the floor.

“I’m going now to the American Express to get your ticket,” she said. “Also to the bank to get your money. I have other things to do in Lugano. I may be late back.”

She had no intention of spending the day with him. The time would go much faster watching a movie.

He looked up.

“Okay, ma’am.”

“How is he this morning?”

He rubbed the side of his jaw. “He’s okay.”

She was now utterly sick of Archer and utterly sick of Larry. “Don’t answer the telephone nor the front door.”

“No ma’am.”

She went into the hall and put on her coat. As she was struggling into her snow boots, he came to the kitchen door.

“You - you won’t tell the cops, ma’am?”

She looked around impatiently.

“Oh step fretting! You will be flying to New York tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You have plenty of food. I may have dinner out… if I do I won’t be back until ten-thirty tonight. You have the television to amuse you.” She opened the front door. “And don’t do anything stupid down there… like last time.”

“No, ma’am.” His hangdog expression bored her.

“Just be careful.”

She went down the steps into the cold sunshine.

What a relief to get out of the villa and away from this poor creature, she thought as she opened the garage doors. One more night and the nightmare would be over. She backed the car out of the garage and drove down to the main road.

She had trouble finding parking in Lugano, but eventually, after circling patiently for twenty minutes, she saw a car pull out from a parking meter. By fast driving, she managed to foil an Alfa whose driver had also been circling for some time. He scowled at her as he drove on. She put a twenty centime piece into the meter, then walked to the American Express office. There, she booked a Tourist class ticket for Larry on the following day at 14.00 and for herself first class on the same day but at 22.05 for New York. She had no intention of flying to New York with Larry. She would drive him to Milan airport and make sure he left, then she would leave the car with a garage with instructions it was to be returned to Gastagnola and left in the garage at the villa. She would spend the time until the flight at the Principe e savoia hotel where she was known and where she would be pampered.

She used her American Express Credit card to take care of the two fares, then she walked across the Reforma Square to the Credit Suisse Banque . Here, she asked for $5,000 in unsigned Travellers’ Cheques. While she was waiting, the manager of the bank came from his office to shake hands with her and to inquire after her husband. This kindness and deference she was receiving from the bank manager pleased and flattered her, but she wondered, a little cynically, if, without money, she would have received the same treatment.