James Chase - Mission to Siena

“Yes?” Alsconi asked.

“Mr Felix wants you, boss.”

“Does he? Tell him I’m busy,” Alsconi said. “I’ll talk to him tomoiTow morning and not before.”

“Yes, boss,” Carlos said, his thick lips coming off his teeth in a delighted grin. He got back to Felix. “Sorry, Mr Felix, but the boss says he’s busy. He’ll talk to you tomorrow morning.”

Felix slammed down the receiver. Sweat ran down his face as he turned to look at Lorelli.

“You clever little…” The word he used made Lorelli flinch. “We’re trapped down here. Alsconi’s on to us. He’s cut the current off, and there’s no way out. I hope you’re pleased with yourself and your bright ideas.”

Lorelli collapsed into a chair. She held her head between her hands.

Felix went out of the room at a run and into his room. He flung back the door and entered, not looking at Willie’s body that lay half under the toilet basin. His .45 automatic lay on the top of his chest of drawers. He snatched it up, and as he was about to push it into the shoulder holster he wore under his coat, he paused. The weight of the gun in his hand told him it wasn’t loaded, and yet he knew an hour or so ago, before he had killed Willie, he had checked the gun, making sure it was loaded.

With shaking hands, he pulled out the clip and found it empty. He turned swiftly, jerked open a drawer in the chest for the box of cartridges he always kept by him. It usually rested in the right-hand comer under a pile of shirts. When he moved the shirts, he saw the empty hollow where the box had been, but the box itself was no longer there.

He had used Willie’s gun when he had hit him over the head. He had dropped the gun beside Willie’s dead body. Now he looked for it, but couldn’t see it. He kicked Willie’s body aside, but the gun wasn’t there.

He stood still, his heart pounding, his hands clenched at his sides. Someone — probably Carlos — had been in his room while he had been wasting time talking to Lorelli and had unloaded his gun, taken his slugs and also Willie’s gun.

Well, at least he had Lorelli’s gun, he thought. It was only a toy, but it was better than nothing. He could guess what would happen. When Alsconi was ready he would tell Carlos to move in and take him. Felix knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against Carlos unless he had the .25 which would slow Carlos down if it didn’t stop him.

He went back to Lorelli’s room.

She was still holding her head in her hands. He scarcely looked at her. He went to the dressing table for the .25. He had left it there with the seven bullets arranged in a neat row beside it and he could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw it was no longer there.

“Where’s your gun?” he said, his voice off-key.

Lorelli started and looked up.

“Where’s the gun?” he repeated.

“Why? What do you…?”

She jumped to her feet when she saw his vicious expression.

“Where’s the gun?” he snarled, moving towards her.

“Don’t look like that at me!” She backed against the wall. “Keep away from me!”

Felix came up to her. He grabbed hold of the front of her dress with his left hand and pulled her against him.

“Where is it?”

“I gave it to Micklem.”

“You-what!”

“He asked for it. I wasn’t thinking. I — - He…”

“Micklem? Are you crazy? What are you yammering about?” Felix shook her. “I want the gun! Where is it?”

“There was an opening in the wall. Micklem was…”

She broke off and screamed as Felix’s open hand struck her on the side of her face, jolting her head back.

“Where’s the gun?” he shouted. “You little fool! Someone has unloaded my gun. Carlos can move in now and take us.

How do you think either of us can stop that black ape without a gun? Where is it? Do you hear? Where is it?”

Lorelli’s eyes rolled back and she sagged against him in a faint.

Don had seen and listened to this scene. He now quietly closed the slot. He had the gun, and he was now on equal terms with anyone who tried to stop him. Lorelli would have to look after herself for the moment. He told himself he would do something about her later. He paused only long enough to load the gun, then he set off down the tunnel to the ramp, climbed it and when he reached the steel door, he pressed the rubber-headed button. The door moved inwards, and holding the .25 in his hand, the safety catch back and his finger on the trigger, he stepped into the lighted corridor.

He looked to right and left, then he shut the door, having first made sure he could open it by another rubber-headed button on the corridor side of the door.

Opposite to where he was standing was the door leading to the bathroom; the door further up led to Englemann’s surgery. The door opposite must be the control room door. At the far end of the corridor was the steel door that led to Alsconi’s room. Moving quickly and silently, Don made his way down the passage to this door, pressed on the rubber-headed button, but nothing happened. He tried once more, then gave up. He returned to the control-room door and paused to examine it. The door was of solid steel. There was no handle nor bolt to it. Don decided not to rush his fences.

He would make his bid to escape that night. It would be easier to get through the grounds under cover of darkness than now.

He looked down the corridor. There were three more doors to his left. Carlos would be in the control room. Englemann should be in his surgery. He went over to the door on the left-hand side of the bathroom, listened, then hearing nothing, he turned the handle and eased the door open. The room beyond was in darkness. He entered and closed the door.

Turning on his flashlight, he sent the beam around the small room which was furnished as a bedroom. He found the light switch and turned on the light. From the books in the bookcase that ran the length of one wall, he guessed this must be Englemann’s bedroom.

The telephone on the bedside table caught his eye. He went over to it, and lifted the receiver. His face lit up with a delighted grin as he,heard the dialling tone that told him he was connected to an outside line.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the .25 in his left hand, he dialled the number of the Trioni villa.

The villa’s bell had scarcely begun to ring when there was a click on the line and Harry’s voice growled, “Ullo? Who’s that?”

“Scarcely a respectful way to address your lord and master,” Don said softly. “Can’t you do better than that?”

He heard Harry gasp.

“Is that you, Mr Micklem?” he bawled.

“Sure, it’s me,” Don said, jerking the receiver away from his ear. “Pipe down: you nearly deafened me.”

“Where are you, sir?” Harry said, slightly lowering his voice. “Blimey! We’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I’m still underground, but I’ve managed to gain a little freedom, and I’ve been lucky to find a telephone, but I’m a long way from getting out.”

“We’re going to fix that, sir,” Harry said excitedly. “It’s all laid on for tonight. Giuseppe is coming with a bunch of his pals. That red-head’s sold the gang out. Miss Rigby…”

“I know all about that, but it’s come unstuck,” Don broke in. “A character named Willie was listening to your plans.

He’s given her away. At the moment she’s trapped down here with me, the negro and another character called Felix.”

“Oh!” Don could hear the excitement drain out of Harry’s voice. “So what do we do?”

“You’ll have to leave it to me to find my own way out,” Don said. “How many men is Giuseppe bringing?”

“Six.”

“Fine. Now listen, Harry, your job is to take care of the four guards and the dogs, so once I’m out of the house I’ll have a clear run. The dogs will take a bit of handling. I’ll leave it to you to work out how you’re going to fix them. I don’t think you have a hope of breaking in here. The doors are of three-inch steel and they’re electrically controlled. I’ll make my attempt to break out at half-past one tonight. Get your men outside the walls by then. Give me twenty minutes and then move in. I’ve got a gun. If you hear shooting, break into the house. If nothing happens by two-fifteen, you’ll know I’ve come unstuck.”