James Chase - You Can Say That Again

‘Hold it, please, Mr. Stevens.’

There was a long pause, then the man said, ‘Yes, Mr. Stevens. A sum of seven thousand dollars was credited to your account yesterday by telex. It’s all in order.’

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Who . . .’

Mazzo’s big hand broke the connection.

‘That’s it, Mr. Ferguson. Happy now?’

Well, at least, I now knew I had seven thousand dollars waiting for me if I could get out of this nightmare place.

‘Oh, sure,’ I said. ‘Now, I want to talk to Mrs. Harriet.’

‘Yeah. I heard you the first time.’ Mazzo grinned. ‘You’ll talk to her. She’s not so young. She gets up late, but you’ll talk to her. I’ll fix it. How about some exercise?’

‘Not right now. I’ll wait.’

‘Okay.’ Mazzo shrugged. ‘Want anything special for lunch?’

‘I want to talk to Mrs. Harriet!’ I practically shouted at him. ‘To hell with lunch!’

‘Take it easy, Mr. Ferguson. I’ll talk to the Chef.’ He went into the bedroom, wheeled the trolley out to the door. ‘Just take it easy, huh?’

He left, shutting the door behind him. I heard a faint click that told me the door had been locked. It wasn’t until an hour later that Mrs. Harriet, carrying her poodle, came into the living room. She was wearing a black trouser suit with a dark red collar and cuffs. Her wig was immaculate. A button of glittering diamonds ornamented her ensemble.

‘Good morning, Jerry dear,’ she said, smiling at me. ‘Mazzo tells me you wanted to talk to me.’ She moved to a chair and sat down. ‘I do hope you are satisfied. I do hope you are no longer unhappy. Mazzo tells me you called the bank. You now know, don’t you, the money we promised you has been paid.’

I sat opposite her.

‘The money owing to me was only paid by telex yesterday,’ I said. ‘I was promised one thousand dollars a day. It is only because I warned you I wouldn’t cooperate, you arranged to pay the money you owe me. That doesn’t give me confidence, Mrs. Harriet.’

She gave a chuckling little laugh.

‘Dear Jerry! You don’t really understand finance, do you? Let me explain. To pay you a thousand dollars a day would be a loss of money to me. Money earns money. Even one thousand dollars can earn money: not much, but a little, and a little money amounts to big money in time. You would have been paid in a lump sum when your job is finished. I assure you of that. The Fergusons always meet their commitments. However, you have no need to worry, Jerry dear. Every day you remain here, one thousand dollars will be credited to your account. At the end of the week, you may telephone the bank and make sure of that.’ She fondled her poodle’s ears, smiling at me. ‘Happy now?’

There was nothing I could say to this. I shrugged.

‘So glad.’ She continued to smile. ‘Mazzo tells me you tried to run away. Wasn’t that rather silly of you? You see Jerry we are relying on you. Perhaps, it was a sudden nervous reaction?’ Her dark little eyes suddenly hardened. ‘You won’t try to run away again, will you?’

‘I would if I could,’ I said. ‘I make no promises.’

‘Dear Jerry! How unfortunate! Why do you want to run away when you are making so much money?’

‘The reason why I asked to talk to you,’ I said, ‘is to tell you that Loretta is planning to have you murdered.’

She lifted her eyebrows.

‘You think that?’

‘Mrs. Harriet, this is a nightmare house! Loretta told me that she can persuade Mazzo to creep into your bedroom while you are asleep and smother you with a pillow. She has seduced Mazzo and she tells me she is sure he will do what she tells him to do. Can you wonder why I want to get away from this goddamn house? I’m telling you, you could be murdered and I too could be implicated!’

‘How kind of you, Jerry. How kind of you to think of me.’ Her fingers continued to fondle the poodle’s ears.

‘Do you understand what I am saying?’ I demanded.

‘Of course, Jerry dear, of course. What else did Etta say to you?’

I stared at her. I had imagined when I told her Loretta planned to murder her, there would have been some reaction, but there she sat, fondling the poodle, smiling, completely at ease.

‘Are you and Loretta out of your minds?’ I asked, my voice shooting up. ‘Don’t you understand that any night, you could be murdered?’

She gave a trilly laugh that grated on my nerves.

‘Poor Jerry! I do appreciate your loyalty. Nothing like that will happen. Please don’t worry about it.’

I found I was sweating.

‘Right! I’ve warned you! If you think you won’t be murdered, that’s your goddamn funeral! I’ve told you!’

‘Of course, Jerry dear. It is sweet of you. Did Etta tell you that my son is mentally ill?’

I clenched and unclenched my hands.

‘Yes, and he is in the left wing of the house, supervised by a nurse.’

‘And did she tell you, Jerry dear, she isn’t married to my son?’

I gaped at her.

‘You know that?’

‘She told you?’

‘Yes.’

Again the trilly laugh.

‘And did she tell you she was arranging with a priest to come here with a register and you should forge my son’s name?’

‘So you know about it? Then there’s the will.’

‘Of course. Poor Jerry! What a turmoil you must be in. You are doing a marvelous job substituting for John who is out of the country. You have been so loyal to me. I am going to be quite, quite frank with you.’ She leaned forward and patted my knee. ‘I am going to tell you the sad truth in strict confidence. I am afraid Mr. Durant wouldn’t approve, but never mind. You have earned the right to know the truth.’

I sat still, staring at her.

‘Now, Jerry dear, please give me your promise to say nothing about what I am going to tell you.’ Her dark little eyes probed mine. ‘Will you promise?’

I had to know. This situation was driving me crazy.

‘Yes, I promise,’ I said, and waited.

‘So glad, Jerry dear. You see, it has all happened before. Etta told the same sad story to Larry Edwards and he, worried as you are, came to me. I suppose she offered you two million dollars to forge my son’s will?’ She nodded. ‘Yes, of course, she did. She made the same offer to Larry. I tried to reassure him, but he no longer wanted to cooperate.’ She gave me a steady stare. ‘I paid him off.’ She shook her head, her eyes sad. ‘Rather a nice young man. Such a shame he had that accident.’

My mouth turned dry. The threat was there.

‘You must be worrying and wondering, dear Jerry,’ she went on. ‘Of course, Etta is John’s wife. They were married two years ago. I’m not asking you to accept my word. I can give you proof.’ She put down the poodle and getting up, walked across to a cabinet which she opened. Then she returned, carrying a large envelope. ‘See for yourself. Here are the photographs of the wedding. It is quite a social occasion,’ and she laid the envelope on my knees.

I took out a collection of press photographs. Loretta, looking radiant, wearing a white wedding gown with a veil, held onto the arm of John Merrill Ferguson. They were surrounded by people: Mrs. Harriet, Durant, a number of faces that meant nothing to me. I flicked through the other photographs: Loretta cutting the cake. She and John Merrill Ferguson toasting each other with champagne, and so on and so on.

I returned the photographs to the envelope, then looked at Mrs. Harriet.

‘Then why did she tell me she wasn’t married to your son?’ I asked, my voice unsteady.

‘That, of course, is the sad secret my son and I have been concealing for the past year,’ Mrs. Harriet said quietly. ‘We need your cooperation, dear Jerry. You have shown you are loyal. You are entitled to know. You have given me your promise to say nothing once you leave here. I accept your promise.’ She reached out and patted my knee. ‘Loretta is mentally ill.’