James Chase - Mission to Siena

“Why shouldn’t she be here?” he demanded. “Come on; spill it before I knock your teeth down your throat.”

“She’s double-crossed us,” Willie panted, tears of pain starting from his eyes. “She’s sold us out.”

Felix lifted his clenched fist, then stopped. His face had turned the colour of snow.

“You lying rat!” he said viciously.

“I heard her,” Willie gasped, trying to grind himself into the wall to get away from Felix. “She said she wanted to quit the organization. She wanted money. She said she would get Micklem out for two hundred and fifty grand.”

Felix remembered what Lorelli had said: You and I have to get out of this racket before it’s too late. Sooner or later the police are going to get on to us. We’ve got to get out!

The crazy little fool! She was committing suicide.

He stepped away from Willie.

“You heard her say that?”

Willie put his hand to his face and wiped off the lather.

“Yes. You’ve got no right to hit me…”

“Shut up!” Felix snapped. “Let’s have it. Every scrap of it.”

Willie told him how he had seen Lorelli enter the villa and how he had gone after her in case she ran into trouble.

“I did what you told me,” he said, his voice snivelling. “There were three of them in the room: the guy who got away the other night, a fat old bloke they called Cherry and this girl Rigby. She said she would go to New York right away.

Then Lorelli said she was going to tell them something she wasn’t supposed to tell them. She said Micklem would never be released and we were after all his dough. She said if they promised to pay her two hundred and fifty grand, she would get him out.”

“Did they agree?” Felix asked.

“Of course they did, but it’s my bet she’ll never see the dough. She said she would work out a plan how to get him out.

She’s going to see them again Thursday night. She’s going to show them where the alarms are and tell them about the guards.”

Felix leaned forward. There was sweat on his face.

“Listen, Willie, if you’re lying, I’ll kill you,” he said in a low vicious voice.

Willie flinched and cringed back.

“I’m giving it to you straight’,” he whined.

Felix took out his handkerchief and wiped his face.

“What are they going to do — tell the police?”

“No. Lorelli made them promise to keep the police out of it.”

Felix moved away from Willie.

“You haven’t told anyone about this?” he asked.

“No,” Willie said.

“You didn’t tell Jacopo?”

“Of course I didn’t. It’s not his business.” Willie began to feel a little more sure of himself now that Felix seemed to have got over the shock. He picked up his safety razor and began to scrape the stubble off his chin. “The old man ought to be pleased when I tell him. I’m going to ask him for a raise. He ought to come across.”

Felix scarcely heard him. This was the end of Lorelli, he thought. Alsconi would hand her over to Englemann. The thought turned him sick. He suddenly realized just how much Lorelli meant to him; the realization came as a shock.

This might be his end too. Alsconi might not believe he hadn’t anything to do with it. He might even think he had put Lorelli up to asking for the money. Fie glanced over at Willie who was now washing his face. There was nothing he could offer Willie that would make him hold his tongue. He knew that. Willie was a rat, and he’d be mad to trust him.

He would take everything he was offered, and still go to Alsconi. If he was to save Lorelli, Willie had to be fixed, and he was suddenly determined to save her.

As Willie began to diy his face on a grubby towel, he said, “What do you think will happen to her? Think Englemann will work on her?”

Felix shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said, forcing his voice to sound harsh, “and I don’t care. She’s asked for it and she’ll get it.”

Willie nodded.

“That’s the way I figured it,” he said. “It’s nothing to do with me what happens to her. Think I could ask the old man for a bonus?” He opened a drawer and took out a clean shirt. “There’s a car I saw in Florence the other week. If the old man shells out, I might be able to buy it.”

“He’ll give you something,” Felix said and wandered over to where Willie’s gun was hanging. He got between Willie and the gun. “Don’t press him. If he doesn’t offer you anything, I’ll have a word with him.”

Willie’s face brightened.

“You will? That’s fine. It’s time I had a bit more money. I work hard enough for what I get.”

Felix’s hand went behind him, his fingers closed around the butt of Willie’s gun and gently eased it out of the holster. He let the gun slip through his fingers until he was holding it by its barrel.

“You’d better hurry,” he said. “The old man won’t give you anything if you keep him waiting much longer.”

Willie shook the shirt out of its folds and slipped into it.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve been too long already.”

He turned to the mirror and began to comb his thin, greasy hair. He saw in the mirror Felix had moved forward. Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror. The expression he saw on Felix’s face suddenly turned him cold. He saw Felix’s hand flash up. He opened his mouth to shout, but he knew he had left it too late. Then the butt of the gun smashed down on the top of his head and he fell limply forward, bouncing against the toilet basin. His dying body slid to the floor.

About ten minutes after Englemann had gone, Don unlocked the bracelet around his ankle and got to his feet. He knew he was taking a risk of being discovered, but he couldn’t continue to sit and do nothing. He couldn’t resist the temptation to explore.

He crossed the cave and stood at the mouth of the tunnel, peering into the darkness. Luck favoured him. His sharp eyes caught the glint of metal high up against the wall, and taking out his cigarette lighter, he thumbed the flame alight. In a bracket attached to the wall was clipped a long, chromium-plated flashlight; probably put there, he thought, in case of an electric power failure. The beam of the light, when he pressed down on the button, was powerful and told him the battery was comparatively new. He set off down the tunnel, passing the ramp on his left and continued on for some fifty yards before he came to a steel door that blocked any further progress. There was a rubber-covered button near the door, but although he pressed it several times, there was no response,.and baffled, he stepped away from the door to examine it from head to foot in the light of his torch. It was set flush with the rock face, and when he pushed against it, it was immovable. He made his way back to the ramp, and climbing it, he reached the door he knew led into the corridor where Englemann’s surgery was as well as the control room if what Lorelli had told him was correct. He pressed on the rubber-headed button he found by the door, heard a faint click and the door moved inwards. He peered into the brightly lit corridor. It was a temptation to go forward, but he resisted it. At least he knew he could get to the control room when he wanted to, but this wasn’t the time. He would wait until Lorelli contacted him that night. He took hold of the steel rail on the door and pulled the door shut, then he went down the ramp to the tunnel again.

Having nothing better to do, he began a careful examination of the walls of the tunnel and he quickly made a discovery.

Let into the stone wall at eye level and roughly about twenty feet apart were a number of small steel plates with small knobs in the centre of them. He took hold of one of the knobs and found the plate slid back, making a peep-hole that looked directly into a room equipped as an office. There was no one in the room, and Don closed the plate. He went along to the next plate and moved that aside. He found himself looking into Lorelli’s bedroom.