James Chase - This Way for a Shroud

From under his coat he produced a long coil of silk rope that he had wound round and round his thin body. At one end of the rope was a rubber-covered hook, and at the other end a heavily padded ring.

He stepped out on to the window sill and looked up. Above him was the balcony of one of the bedrooms on the tenth floor. He tossed up the hook which caught in a stone projection and held.

He climbed up the rope as effortlessly and as quickly as a monkey runs up a tree. He reached the balcony, swung himself over the balustrade and dropped on to hands and knees.

He peered through the window into an empty room, then he looked over the balustrade and stood watching the activity below until he had satisfied himself no one from the ground had seen him.

He climbed up on to the balustrade and looked up at the perpendicular roof some twenty feet or so above him. A stout rain gutter ran the length of the roof, and he tossed up his hook again. The hook caught in the gutter, and he pulled, testing the gutter’s strength. It neither bent nor creaked under his persistent pulling, and without more ado he launched himself into space and went swarming up the rope until his claw-like hands got a grip on the gutter.

He pulled himself up as far as his waist above the gutter, shifted his handholds, got one leg up and along the gutter, his foot in the gutter. There he remained while he adjusted his balance.

The steep roof towered above him. Far below, the bright floodlights, the blue water of the swimming-pool and the continual arrival of cars, looked like a child’s toy laid out on a green carpet.

Ferrari began to lean forward very slowly, and at the same time he drew up his other leg and got that along the gutter. He was now balanced only on his hands, and the slightest error of judgment would pitch him backwards into the black gulf below.

He was quite calm, but he knew his danger.

When he had told Maurer he believed he was the only man in the world who could do this job he had been sincere. This moment of balancing was the hardest task he had ever attempted. He wasn’t frightened, but he did wonder if he hadn’t overestimated his skill.

He leaned forward a trifle, then began to draw his legs along the gutter towards him. As he began to bend his knees he suddenly felt his balance go, and for a split second the weight of his body swayed outwards.

His fingers dug into the cold hard guttering, and he dropped his head down on to his chest. The shifting weight of his head corrected his balance, bringing him slightly forward again.

He remained motionless for over a minute while sweat ran down his face and his breath came from his emaciated chest in great rasping gasps. He had been but a heart-beat away from death, and he was momentarily shaken.

When he had recovered sufficiently he again leaned forward and keeping his head down, he again began to draw up his legs. This time he succeeded in getting his feet under him, his knees bent up to his chin. He looked like a tiny black ball perched precariously on the edge of the gutter. Then still leaning forward, he slowly straightened his legs, thrusting his body forward and upright. He had to let go of the gutter, and his hands reached out and flattened on the tiles of the roof.

He was standing upright now, his toes in the gutter, his body flat against the roof, his head still bent down. He remained in that position until his breathing had returned to normal.

Then he slowly freed the rope which he had hung around his neck and tossed the hook upwards towards the apex of the roof.

He had to make four casts before the hook caught, and once in his anxiety to make a better cast he again nearly over-balanced.

But as soon as he was satisfied the hook had a hold, he was once more his confident self. Taking hold of the rope in both hands and leaning well out, he walked up the perpendicular roof and got astride the apex.

He could now look down at the sea, calmly washing over the rocks some two hundred feet below him. Somewhere just below the edge of the roof was Frances’s room.

He could see the reflected lights from the windows just below, and could hear music from a radio. He fixed the ring at the end of the rope around his ankle, then holding on to the rope he lowered himself down until his heels wedged into the gutter. On this side, the roof was much less steep and he had no difficulty in sitting against the tiles.

Silently he lowered himself over the edge of the roof, turning upside down as he did so. He released the rope and swung head downwards, held only by his ankle. His head and shoulders came just level with the open window and he looked into a big, airy bedroom.

For a moment he couldn’t believe his good luck. He had hit on Frances’s room at his first attempt!

There were three people in the room. Two police women and Frances.

The two police women were sitting away from the window; one was reading, the other was knitting.

Frances sat before a dressing-table. She was brushing her hair.

He hung upside down in the darkness and watched her. After a minute or so, she laid down the hair-brush and stood up. She was wearing a pale-blue silk wrap that accentuated her paleness. She wandered over to an armchair near the window and sat down.

Ferrari swung himself upwards, catching hold of the rope and hauling himself back on to the gutter. He looked at his watch. The time was now half-past nine. He had half an hour to wait.

He waited.

Conrad looked up as Forest came into his room.

Forest had had dinner and had taken a stroll around the grounds before coming up to Conrad’s room. He sank into a deep armchair with the air of a man both relaxed and satisfied.

“That wasn’t a bad dinner,” he said. “They do you well here, don’t they?”

“Oh, sure,” Conrad said indifferently. He hadn’t even noticed what he had had for dinner. “Well, sir, what do you think of her?”

“A nice girl; a damned pretty girl, too,” Forest said, stretching out his legs. “I had a long talk with her and I think I’ve persuaded her to sign the statement. Of course she’s scared of Maurer. Weiner did a good job, putting the fear of Maurer into her, but she promises to let me know one way or the other tomorrow morning.” He looked up. “I put in a word for you, Paul.”

“You did? How did she react?” Conrad asked, sitting forward.

“She seems a little stunned that you should want to marry her. She’s got a lot of complexes, and that’s not to be wondered at. You’ll have to be patient, Paul. It may take a long time. I told her if she will sign the statement, we’ll finance a trip to Europe for her and you and Miss Fielding for a couple of months immediately after the trial. She seemed to like the idea.”

“Did she? That’s pretty good of you, sir. How about the financial angle? The Treasury won’t finance her, will it?”

“Not a hope,” Forest said, and laughed. “That’s up to you, Paul. I’ll give you leave for a couple of months, but you’ll have to stand the racket.”

“I’ll stand it. Did she say where she would like to go?”

“I made a suggestion,” Forest returned, rubbing the side of his nose and looking artful. “I told her she should see Venice. If you can’t cook up a little romance in a gondola, then you’re not the man I think you are. Ever been to Venice? I took my wife there on our honeymoon. No place like it in the world.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Conrad said, smiling. “Well, that’s something to think about for the future, but right now we’ve got to think of getting her safely over the trial. What do you think of my precautions?”

“Excellent,” Forest returned. “I’m as satisfied as you are they can’t get at her here now I’ve seen for myself. This is a good spot, Paul. What are your plans for taking her to the courthouse?” He glanced up sharply. “That plane sounds damned low.”