An Ace up my Sleeve

CHAPTER THREE

From a drugged sleep, Helga came awake at 08.00. She turned on the bedside lamp and then lay still, staring up at the ceiling. Thank God, she thought, for sleeping pills!

Making the effort, she picked up the telephone receiver.

“Coffee, please. Please tell my chauffeur I will be leaving at nine o’clock. Have my account ready,” and she replaced the receiver.

As she got out of bed she thought what a fool she would look if they called back to tell her her chauffeur was missing. It was possible Larry had walked out on her… he might even have taken her car! Then she told herself to be realistic. She had his passport. Anyway, why should she doubt him? Last night had been her fault. She hadn’t given him the slightest hint she wanted him to make love to her.

She hated the sight of herself as she looked in the bathroom mirror, but she wasn’t dismayed. She was an expert at repairing damage.

After drinking two cups of coffee and after using every guile in her make-up box, she again looked in the mirror and this time she nodded her approval.

There came a tap on the door. She slipped on her mink coat, picked up her hat and opened the door.

The manager of the hotel, behind him a porter, bowed with a smile.

“Your car is waiting, madame.”

Together they went in the elevator to the reception lobby. Because she knew it was expected of her, she said how well she had slept and how pleased she had been with the room.

Beaming his pleasure, the manager escorted her to the desk and a bowing clerk slid the account across the polished wood. After glancing at the total, she paid. As the clerk was changing her Travellers’ cheques she looked more closely at the bill.

An item caught her eye.

“What is this? A call to Hamburg?”

The clerk looked at the account, then at her and his expression became worried.

“Yes, madame. Your chauffeur made the call.”

Fifteen francs! It must have been a long call, she thought.

“Of course… I was forgetting.”

She picked up her change, shook hands with the clerk, saying she would see him next year, then, escorted by the manager, watched by a group of tourists, waiting for their bus, she went out into the cold where the Mercedes was parked.

Larry was standing by the car. She looked quickly at him. He gave her his warm, friendly smile as he opened the offside door. The porter put her bags into the boot and she tipped him. The manager, his nose now blue with the cold, still managed to keep a bright smile on his face. She shook hands with him, slid into the passenger’s seat while Larry ran around the car and got in under the wheel.

There were more bows, then Larry moved the car into the traffic.

“Morning, ma’am,” he said, his voice cheerful.

“You turn right at the end of the street, then straight ahead,” Helga said, her voice cold and hostile.

“Sure, ma’am, I know the way, I got it all figured out on a map.”

“That was very clever of you.”

The snap in her voice wasn’t lost on him and he looked quickly at her.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

“I have a headache. Would you please keep quiet?”

“Sure, ma’am… is there anything I can do?”

“Just keep quiet.”

She knew she was behaving badly and she realized looking at him, that her petulance had made no impression on him. She saw him give a slight shrug, then he concentrated on his driving. She was irritated that he was so efficient, getting them through the Basle traffic with ease and then on to the autobahn to Zurich. She had always hated this part of the drive and often she had made a mistake.

Determined to sulk, she smoked cigarette after cigarette in silence, staring at the broad road as it came towards her. She had done this run so often, it bored her. But finally, as they approached the outskirts of Zurich, she said, “Do you know the way through the City?”

“Sure, ma’am,” he said calmly. “Right ahead, forking left at the traffic lights, through the tunnel and on to the Chur bypass.”

“That’s right.”

She looked at him. He was chewing gum and his face was completely relaxed. She looked at his big hands on the steering-wheel and again her body melted in desire for him.

It wasn’t until they had begun to climb the twisting road to Chur that she began her probe.

“Where did you go last night, Larry?” she asked abruptly.

He whipped the Mercedes past a Peugeot 504, then stormed up the road with the speedometer needle at 180 k.p.h.

“Last night, ma’am?”

“You are driving too fast!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” and the needle drifted down to 130.

“I asked you where you were last night.”

“In the hotel, ma’am.”

She clenched her hands into fists.

“Don’t lie to me!” She was shocked to hear how shrill her voice sounded. She paused, then controlling her voice, she went on, “I wanted to speak to you. They told me you had gone out. Where did you go?”

He shot the car past a Jaguar. The driver tapped his horn as a protest at the speed of the Mercedes.

“You are driving too fast, Larry… stop it!”

“Yes, ma’am,” and the speed of the car slackened.

“Where were you last night?” she persisted.

“I went for a walk.” He glanced at her, then away. “Des that bother you, ma’am?”

The gentle rebuke was like a slap in the face to her. She was losing her head about this boy, she told herself. Why shouldn’t he go for a walk if he wanted to? Because she had longed for him and still longed for him, she realized she was making a drama out of everything he did.

“No… it didn’t bother me,” she said, steadying her voice. “I just wondered where you were.”

“I took a look at the town.” His jaws moved rhythmically as he chewed. “It’s not much. I got cold. I was glad to get into bed.”

“Yes.” She had a feeling he was lying but she wasn’t sure.

They drove for the next hour in silence and it irritated her that he seemed quite happy to drive and not to have to listen to anything she might say. When they came to the entrance to the Bernadino tunnel and he flicked on his dipped headlights, she remembered the call to Hamburg.

She said, “The hotel charged me for a call to Hamburg. They said you had made it.”

She was watching him, but his face remained relaxed and he continued to chew.

“That’s right, ma’am. I made the call. I wanted news of Ron. Excuse me if I did wrong.”

She drew in a long, slow breath. His constant ‘excuse me’s’ were gnawing at her nerves.

“How is Ron?”

“He’s okay, ma’am.”

“Have the police released him?”

His eyes shifted to her and then away.

“Yeah.”

“So what is he doing now?”

Watching him, she had a feeling she had dropped salt on a snail. He retreated into a shell. His blank expression, his gum chewing told her it was a shell she wasn’t going to penetrate.

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

“Didn’t you ask him?”

“I didn’t speak to him. I spoke to one of his friends. He just told me Ron was out.”

She shrugged. He didn’t want to confide in her… after all, why should he?

The run through the tunnel took some minutes.

“The road ahead is tricky and dangerous, Larry. I know it well. I will drive,” she said when she saw they were reaching the end of the tunnel.

“Just as you say, ma’am.”

She looked at the gas gauge.

“There’s a service station not far from the end of the tunnel. We’ll change there.”

“Okay, ma’am.”

Ten kilometres beyond the tunnel they came to the service station and Larry stopped the car by the pumps.

He got out and she slid under the driving wheel as the attendant came out of his shelter.

She told him to fill the tank.

Larry came around and got in the passenger’s seat.

“Pay him,” she said. “It’ll be thirty francs.”

“What was that, ma’am?”

At the sound of the startled note in his voice, she looked sharply at him. He immediately shifted his eyes.

“I said… pay him thirty francs!” she snapped.

He shifted uneasily.

“Excuse me, ma’am… I haven’t thirty francs,” he said and she saw his face was now beetroot red.

She lifted her hands, then dropped them on her mink covered lap.

“All right, Larry.” She opened her bag and paid the attendant twenty-seven francs and gave him a franc tip. Then she shifted into gear and drove out on to the broad mountain road. When they were out of sight of the gas station, she drew in against the side of the mountain and stopped the car. She turned off the engine, took out her cigarette case and lit a cigarette.

“I would like to get this straight, Larry,” she said.

He looked furtively at her.

“What was that, ma’am?”

“I want an explanation. I gave you three hundred marks in Bonn. The meal couldn’t have been more than twenty marks so you had a balance of around two hundred and eighty. I then gave you fifteen hundred francs to get clothes. You told me you had something over from that. You also told me twice that you do not accept money. Now you can’t even find thirty francs… did you lose what I gave you?”

He rubbed the side of his jaw as he hesitated, then he nodded.

“Yeah… I guess I did.”

She stared at him.

“But how did you lose all that money, Larry?”

He chewed on his gum and she could see sweat-beads forming on his forehead.

“I guess I just lost it, ma’am.”

“Do you expect me to accept such a stupid answer?” The angry snap in her voice stiffened him. He remained silent, staring through the wind shield at the falling snow.

“It’s a lot of money to lose,” she went on, softening her voice when she saw he wasn’t going to reply. “How did you lose it?”

Still he said nothing. If he were wearing his cap she was sure he would be pulling at the peak.

“Larry! Will you please answer my question! Did some woman get it from you last night?”

He moved uneasily, then he nodded.

“I guess that’s how it happened, ma’am.”

She thought of the previous evening. The terrible letdown when she had been told he had gone out. She felt so frustrated she couldn’t speak for several seconds. Finally she said, her voice unsteady, “You wanted a woman and you went out in the snow to look for one… is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She closed her eyes, her hands turning into fists.

There was a long silence, then she said, “Tell me about it.”

Again he shifted uneasily.

“There’s nothing to tell, ma’am… excuse me… I’m sorry.”

“Tell me about it!” Her voice was ugly and harsh.

Startled he looked at her, then away.

“Larry!”

He slumped down in the car seat as if defeated.

“Well, ma’am, if you must know… I went to a cafe. There was this girl on her own. We got talking.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe you can understand. I wanted her. We went to her place. She had a girl friend there.” He stared through the wind shield, frowning. “I guess they took me to the cleaners. When I got back to the hotel I hadn’t five francs left.”

Two girls! Helga drew in a shuddering breath. You stupid, beautifully built fool! You could have had me for nothing and in comfort!

“You seem to have bad luck with your girls, don’t you?” she said and shifted 63

the gear lever into Drive.

“You could say that, ma’am. I guess I’m not so hot with women.”

Looking at him, seeing him slumped in depression, she felt a pang of pity for him.

She drove along the mountain road and began the difficult descent towards Bellonzona.

Herman Rolfe liked to spend a month, during the winter, in Switzerland. The snowcapped mountains and the clean blue sky had a fascination for him. He had bought a four-bedroom villa at Castagnola, overlooking the lake of Lugano, had finished it and made use of it during the month of February.

The villa had been built by a successful movie director some fifteen years ago when land and building were at a reasonable price. The villa was rather special as it hung from the mountain side, was screened by eight foot high walls, had two hectares of land and had an unrivalled view of the lake and the tiny villages around the lake. It had a heated swimming pool, a glassed-in patio, a games and movie room, plus all the luxury gimmicks a movie director at the height of his success could dream up. There was also a garage for four cars with staff quarters over the garage.

Each February, Helga came to Switzerland to get the villa ready for her husband’s reception.

He would eventually arrive with Hinkle who acted as his nurse, his valet and his chef. Hinkle had been in Rolfe’s service for some fifteen years. He looked like a benign English bishop: rotund, bald, with white wisps of hair to soften his florid complexion. He was as smooth as silk in his manner, spoke only when spoken to and was unbelievably efficient in everything he did. Although looking older than his fifty years, he was also athletic and surprisingly strong.

Helga had come to admire him. She quickly realized he tolerated nothing but the best. Anything that was less than best was instantly condemned by him. At first she had been afraid of him. During the first two months of her marriage, she knew he was observing her, judging her and he made her horribly nervous. Then he seemed to accept the fact that she was as efficient in her job as a hostess and as a personal secretary and as a wife as he was in his various jobs. She realized this when flowers began to appear in her bedroom and then other things happened to make her life much easier and she knew this was Hinkle’s way of telling her she was accepted. He still remained aloof, but when their eyes met, his expression was benign.

In three days from now, she thought as she drove towards Lugano, her husband and Hinkle would be arriving at the villa. From Bonn she had already alerted the cleaning agency in Lugano to put the villa in order and to turn on the heating. She always stayed at the Eden hotel in Lugano while this was going on. When the villa was ready, she drove to the tiny airport at Agno to meet her husband’s private plane and then drive him to the villa.

But now she had Larry with her, she didn’t intend to stay at the Eden hotel. The cleaning would be done. The heating would be on. Food was no problem. The deep freeze cabinet was always kept well stocked for an unexpected arrival.

Three days!

To have this boy to herself for three days turned Helga hot It was a risk. They would arrive at the villa at 14.00. But since Herman and she came only to Castagnola for a month in the year they had no social life nor did they know anyone in the district. It was only a slight risk, she assured herself. There was no one to raise eyebrows or to gossip.

Now was the moment, she thought as she drove down the narrow, twisting road that led directly to the lake, to alert Larry. She would have to handle him gendy. He was such an odd mixture. She thought of the two girls. They could have drained him of all sexual desire. He might think a woman older than himself undesirable in his present mood… she doubted that. A man of his build must have a lot of resilience, but she must be careful.

“Tell me, Larry, what are you plans?” she asked abruptly.

He gave a little start as if startled to find her by his side.

“My plans, ma’am?” He chewed for a long moment. “I I’ll look for a job.”

“Do you think you’ll get one?”

“Oh, sure… I’ve got jobs before. Yeah, I’ll get one all right.”

“But you’ll need a work permit, Larry.”

He glanced at her, then lifted his heavy shoulders.

“Is that right? Weil, I guess I’ll have to get a work permit then.”

She restrained her exasperation with an effort.

“I don’t think you know really what you are saying,” she said as gently as she could. “Work permits here are difficult to get. Now listen, Larry, I want to help you. I know you’re against accepting money, but I would like to make you a loan. You must have some money while you try to get a work permit. You can always pay me back later.”

He shook his head.

“Thanks, ma’am, but I’ll manage. I appreciate the offer. My old man would flip his lid if he knew I was taking money from anyone.”

“But your father won’t know unless you tell him,” Helga said as if speaking to a child.

He remained silent for so long she looked sharply at him. He was staring blankly at the car ahead of them, chewing, his face screwed into an expression of thought. She decided not to hurry him and she waited as she drove into the thick traffic and into the centre of Lugano.

Finally, he said, “Well, ma’am, I appreciate it. You’re right about my old man. I needn’t tell him, but it bothers me that I might not be able to pay you back. I’ve cost you enough already.”

“Suppose you let me bother about that?” She was now happy, realizing at last she had broken through the crust of his obstinacy and was reaching him. You see, Larry, money doesn’t mean a great deal to me. I have it, and when I can help people, it makes me happy to do it.”

He took a little time to consider this, then he nodded.

“Yeah… I guess I would feel the same way too, ma’am, if I had money.”

They were now driving along the lake at a crawl. The traffic along the lake was always slow and congested.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” she said.

“It sure is, ma’am.” He looked at the lake glittering in sudden pale sunlight and at the distant hills, with the snow covering the trees. “What do they call this place?”

“This is Lugano. We are now going to my home. I’d like you to see it. It’s not far from here.”

“Your home?” He turned and looked at her, his jaw moving as he chewed and he smiled his warm smile that set her blood on fire. “I didn’t expect to be taken to your home.”

She laughed.

“Why not? You can stay the night… there’s plenty of room, then I will see what I can do for you tomorrow.”

“You mean you are asking me to stay the night in your home?”

“Why not?”

He slammed his big hands down on his knees with such violence she was sure he had hurt himself.

“Boy!” he exclaimed. “Am I lucky! Boy! Boy! Am I lucky!”

Helga looked sharply at him. There was just too much exuberance in his voice to ring true. She had a moment of doubt, even fear, but as he swivelled to look at her, his smile so warm and friendly, the doubt and the fear went away.

“I’m glad you’re pleased, Larry.”

“You don’t know what this means to me, ma’am,” he said. “I was getting scared. I couldn’t see myself sleeping rough in a place like this. I couldn’t think where I was going to sleep.”

You’ll sleep with me, Helga thought as she said, “Don’t worry about that, Larry.” She smiled at him, resisting the urge to put her hand on his. “Don’t worry about anything.”

Helga lay on the king-size bed, her nakedness covered by her black chiffon wrap, her arms and legs spread wide in total relaxation. She looked around her big bedroom contentedly.

It was a beautiful room with apricot-coloured leather padded walls, mirrors, a wall-to-wall fitted white wool carpet and fume oak fitted furniture. A mirror, facing the vast bed, told her she looked sensually beautiful and fifteen years younger than she was.

She and Larry had stopped in Castagnola at a small restaurant and had the expected greasy Swiss meal of pork chops and chips, then she had driven him up the St. Moritz highway to the villa.

She had been pleased by his reaction to the villa. His stunned expression as she unlocked the heavy oak, nail studded front door and took him through the lobby and into the vast living-room gave her an excited lift until she remembered her own astonishment when she had first walked into the room.

“Gee!” He stood staring around. “This is really something! It’s just out of the movies!”

“It is… it was once owned by a movie director. Take your coat off. Look around.”

Together they explored the house. At first, he made exclamations of surprise as the luxury of the place unfolded before him. He gaped at the indoor, heated swimming pool, looked through the double-glazed windows at the outdoor swimming pool and the big terrace and the distant view of Lugano. He began to grow silent as he stood in the movie projection room with its twenty plush seats and the vista-vision screen. He just stood, saying nothing as she showed him the four bedrooms, each with their deluxe bathrooms. Then she began to realize that so much luxury and comfort was making a bad impression on him. There were other things to show him: two sauna baths, the tiny elevator that conveyed logs from the cellar right to the big fireplace, the two chair lifts that would take you down to the main highway if you wanted to go for a walk and didn’t want to descend the hundred steps through the garden. There was the kitchen with its push button miracles, fully equipped to produce a dinner for twenty people, the stereo radio and gramophone that could produce music in every room or in any room provided you pressed the right button. Also the colour TV set in every room, me deep freeze cabinet, the speaker-boxes hooked to the telephone which allowed you to talk to anyone in any city in the world without moving from your chair: tiny loudspeakers so finely tuned you could hear someone breathing in Tokyo… so many other things but she saw now that like a child fed too many chocolates, he was turning sour, perhaps even sick at so much luxury.

She broke off the sight-seeing tour and said, “I’ll show you your room. It’s just across the way.”

She opened a door and led him through a covered passage to another door. She unlocked it, mounted stairs and into a narrow passage with three doors leading from it. The first door led to Hinkle’s room. The next door led to a bathroom. The third door led to a small room which was seldom used. She opened the door.

“Make yourself at home, Larry. Use the bathroom. I want to unpack and change. I’ll telephone you in an hour or so. If you want to wander around, go ahead. Be at home.”

He looked into the room, his jaws moving as he chewed.

“I guess you must have a lot of money, ma’am,” he said and she was aware of a sullen note in his voice.

“My husband has… I haven’t.” She smiled. “We’ll have a picnic tonight. There s plenty of food in the deep freeze,” and moving around him, she walked back to the villa.

She had unpacked, taken a bath and then dropped on to the bed.

The time was now 1745 and it was dark. The San Salvatore mountain with 69

its twin radio and TV masts was obscured by cloud. The lights of Lugano showed dimly through the haze. The amber light in the big bedroom emphasized the apricot coloured walls and was kind to her reflection in the mirror.

Now was the time for love, she thought and her body melted with her desire. She lifted the telephone receiver and pressed button 10 which connected her with Larry’s room. There was a long pause and her heart contracted. Surely he was there? Then just when she was getting into a panic, his voice came over the line.

“Yeah, ma’am?”

“Come and see me. Follow the blue lights. They will bring you to me.”

“What was that again, ma’am?”

She moved impatiently, closing her legs tightly together.

“When you leave your room, you will see blue lights in the ceiling, Larry,” she said, controlling the impatience in her voice. “If you will follow the lights, they will lead you to my room.”

“Sure, ma’am. I’ll do that,” and he hung up.

She reached for the battery of buttons built into the side of the bed and pressed the blue button, then she waited. She looked a little anxiously at her reflection in the opposite mirror. Suppose he turned shy? Suppose… no! He was a young animal. He had admitted to her he had this sexual urge. Again she looked at the reflection in the mirror and she was satisfied.

She waited, and as she waited, she heard him coming up the stairs. She hoped he wasn’t chewing gum. There was a long pause, and then a tap came on the door.

Instinctively she pulled the wrap around her, suddenly worried it might be too transparent.

“Come on in, Larry,” she called, and now she wanted him as she had never wanted any other man before.

He came in.

Could it be possible? she thought as she forced a smile. He was still wearing his dark suit, his white shirt and black tie!

When he saw her lying on the bed, the black chiffon wrap scarcely concealing the whiteness of her body, he stiffened and stepped back.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said awkwardly and began to back out of the room.

“Oh, come on in, Larry!” Even to her, her voice sounded waspish. “Shut the door!”

He shut the door, remaining still, his eyes shifted to her, then shifted away.

“You’re not shy of me, are you?” she said, thinking: God! if this flops, I’ll kill myself!

“I guess not, ma’am.”

“Come here.”

He moved slowly to the bed, then he stood over her, looking down at her.

“Gee! You’re beautiful! I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful!”

It was a spontaneous outburst that set a flame to her body. She held out her hand. He took it and she pulled him down on the bed.

“You’re over dressed, Larry,” and her fingers pulled his tie loose.

“Is it all right, ma’am? You’re sure it’s all right.”

“For God’s sake! You’re not a kid, are you?”

Her frantic fingers began to unbutton his shirt

He pulled away from her.

“I’ll do it, ma’am. May I see you… may I look at you?”

She opened her wrap, revealing her nakedness.

“Oh, ma’am.”

He was gazing at her as she found the zip of his trousers.

As she pulled, he began to struggle out of his jacket. His hand slipped and banged against the row of buttons which controlled the lights, the TV set and all the other gimmicks in the villa. There came a blinding flash and then complete darkness. She had his fly open. She felt him jerk away from her. She lay still, her heart hammering, her eyes blinded by the flash and the darkness.

“What’s happened?” she asked, her voice husky.

“I touched something,” Larry said out of the darkness. “I guess I’ve tripped a fuse. I’ll fix it. You wait here.”

“To hell with the fuse! Larry!” She lifted herself up and stared into the darkness. “Larry!”

“I’ll fix it.”

From the sound of his voice he was already out of the room and she heard his footfalls as he stumbled down the corridor.

I don’t want you to fix it, you goddam, stupid fool! she thought as she lay back on the bed. Who the hell cares about a fuse! Come back! I want you to love me!

She waited a long moment, hearing him blundering about somewhere in the darkness, then she got off the bed. Pulling her wrap around her, she groped her way to the door. She could see nothing in the darkness.

“Larry!”

She heard a door open and then slam shut.

“Come back!” she screamed. “Larry? Do you hear me?”

She stood in the darkness, listening. The silence and the darkness weighed down on her.

She made the effort and controlled her frustrated anger. God! what a hick this boy was! Somehow he had blown a fuse and he had this stupid inferiority complex that he had to mend it immediately! She groped her way back to the bed. The distant lights on the highway made a small light in the room and she could see the outline of the bed. She sank on to it.

She felt cold and she was shaking. The fool had blown a just when she had been offering herself to him. Yet he had left her to go down to the cellar to mend the fuse! Was she so undesirable? Or was there something wrong about him? Perhaps he was only excited by very young girls. Hot tears rose to her eyes and spilled over. Maybe he wasn’t the young, sexual animal she had thought he was.

She waited. Nothing happened and silence brooded over the villa, then she thought of him groping around in the blacked out cellar, trying to mend a fuse. He could kill himself! She remembered there was a flashlight in one of the many drawers built in by her bed. She had to scrabble through three drawers before she found it. She switched it on. Its bright beam was comforting. She searched for and found her pantie briefs and slipped them on, then picking up the flashlight, she went quickly from the bedroom, down the short corridor, past the living-room to the stairs that led to cellars.

At the head of the stairs, she paused and called, “Larry!”

Silence greeted her and a wave of cold panic ran over her. The fool couldn’t have killed himself? Had he electrocuted himself in the dark? She stood motionless. Suppose he had? Suppose he was lying dead before the fuse boxes? What would she do? How would she explain what he had been g here to get himself electrocuted?

Cold and shaking, she started down the stairs. Ahead of her was the door leading to the fuse boxes and the central heating apparatus. She could hear the motor roaring behind the heavy steel door. The door was shut. She hesitated before opening it, then pushed down the steel lever and forced the door open.

“Larry?”Except for the violent beat of the electric motor, she heard nothing. She hesitated to go further, then bracing herself, she lifted the beam of the flashlight and shakily moved the beam into the big-hot room.

There way no sign of Larry. She moved into the room and played the beam on the fuse boxes. She saw the green button was out and the red button was in. After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed the green button home. The light in the boiler roam came on. Turning, she moved into the corridor turned on the switch and the three overhead lights in the corridor came on.

Puzzled and frightened, she hurried back up the stairs to her bedroom. The defused light above her bed was now on. She whirled around and ran along the corridor, down the stairs, turning on the switches as she went until she came to the corridor leading underground to the garage and the staff quarters. Holding her wrap around her, she opened the door, turned on the light and hurried along the corridor, up the stairs until she reached the three rooms reserved for the staff. She went to the end room and threw open the door to find the small room empty.

She stood in the doorway, her heart beating violently, looking around. She remembered Larry had left the cheap plastic suitcase by the bed. It had gone. The bed was undisturbed. She turned around, flicked up the light switch and walked to the bathroom and then to Hinkle’s room. Both rooms were empty. She paused for a moment, then walked with shaking legs back to her bedroom.

In her bedroom, she paused.

Where was Larry? What had happened to him?

She pressed her cold hand against her forehead as she tried to think. There must be some explanation. He had either panicked and had run away or he had met with an accident while groping around in the dark. He could have fallen in the pool, down some of the many stairs… anything!

She must get some clothes on! She dressed swiftly and as she slipped on her shoes, she began to feel calmer. There was a fibre of steel in her that always supported her in emergencies and she drew on it now.

Bracing herself, she went through all the rooms in the villa. Then not finding Larry, she returned to her room, put on her mink coat and gloves and went down to the garage.

The Mercedes was where Larry had parked it. She even opened the boot to make certain he wasn’t playing some fool practical joke on her. She went to the outdoor swimming pool and shone the beam of the flashlight over the blue water, half expecting to see Larry’s submerged body, but only the glittering water met her eyes.

It was bitterly cold and the frosty air nipped at her.

Where was he… damn him!

She looked with despair at the dark garden spread out below her, now lit by the rising moon. She had to be sure he hadn’t stumbled down the steep steps and hurt himself. She had to be sure.

She started down the steps, moving the beam of her flashlight, and every now and then, she stopped and called, “Larry!” It wasn’t until she reached the wrought iron gates that led directly to the St. Moritz highway that she convinced herself he wasn’t on the estate.

The fool! The hick! The damn, stupid, juvenile jerk!

Seeing her half naked must have panicked him. This stupid, clumsy act that had fused the lights had been an excuse to run away from her. He was incapable of loving a matured woman. All he wanted was some giggling, stupid, undeveloped teenager! She felt so frustrated and furious that she raised her clenched fists above her head and shook them.

She rode back in the chair lift to the villa.

Back in her bedroom, she stripped off her mink coat and let it drop on the floor. She pressed her hands against her cold face, then she looked in the mirror, opposite the bed. She stiffened. Was this white-faced, gaunt, desperately old looking woman her? Could it be her?

Damn him to hell!” she said, half aloud, staring at her reflection. “I must be going out of my mind! A gum-chewing little bastard like that! I’ve got to stop this! I’ve got to control myself! If I go on like this, I’ll be found out, then my life as I know it, as I like it, will be finished! I’ve got to stop it and I’m going to stop it!”

Aware she was trembling, she stood motionless, drawing in slow, deep breaths, then when she felt steadier, she left the room and went along to the sitting-room. She stood in the vast room, looking around: its vastness and loneliness crushed her.

She couldn’t spend the night here, she told herself. She must have contact with other people. She would call the Eden hotel. They would have a room for her. She would have a lonely, but good dinner in the grill room, then sleeping pills would give her release until the morning but first she had to have a drink.

She crossed to the well stocked bar and poured a heavy slug of vodka into a crystal tumbler. She added ice from the refrigerator and a dash of martini, then she carried the drink to one of the big settees. She sat down, sipped her drink and lit a cigarette.

She stared through the picture window at the distant view, the haze and the lights. She refused to let herself think until she had finished the drink, then getting up, she made another and then returned to the settee.

She was now calmer and her shrewd mind began to regain its keenness. She was suddenly appalled at the risk she had taken. To bring an unknown boy to her home as she had done had been utter lunacy! Her sex urge must be stamped out! She drew in a long shuddering breath. Well, he was gone! Thank God he had been a hick, and thank God the sight of her nakedness had frightened him away!

She stubbed out her cigarette and immediately lit another.

Never again!

If she had to have a man she must look for an hotel servant in an hotel in which she wasn’t known… something like that.

But at the back of her mind there was a growing feeling of uneasiness. The gum-chewing boy had taken a lot of money from her. The passport alone had cost three thousand francs. Might he not come back for more? Might he not consider her an ideal subject for blackmail?

Helga had been trained in law, had worked with ruthless business men and she was well aware of the dangers of blackmail.

She felt her hands turn moist as she sat, thinking.

But after a little thought, stamping down on her panic, she began to relax. No, he wouldn’t dare blackmail her. He couldn’t! She knew his passport was faked. Of course she had more to lose than he, but in a showdown, she had a weapon she could and would use.

She finished her drink.

Fortified now by two cocktails, she felt much more relaxed. She remembered his warm, friendly smile. A boy who could smile like that couldn’t be a blackmailer nor could he have anything bad in him. Then she remembered his quiet words to that little pansy: What would it cost you if you got your hands crushed in a door? She felt a chill run up her spine. But he was bluffing, she assured herself. He had told her he fed on the violence of television. That had been the threat of a small boy… no, it was all right: he was a hick, and that was that. She could put him out of her mind.

It had been a moment of madness… now she must forget it.

She went across the room and telephoned the Eden hotel.

The Reception manager’s welcome flattered, soothed and pleased her.

“Yes, of course, Madame Rolfe. I have your usual suite. Only too delighted. And how is Mr. Rolfe?”

She said her husband was fairly well, that she would be arriving in about half an hour and would he reserve a table for her in the grill room?

She hung up and went to her bedroom. Taking a small suitcase from one of the many closets, she packed what she would need for the night. As she was closing the lid of the suitcase, she paused and stiffened.

Had she heard something? She listened again, hearing only the beating of her heart. Moving silently, she went to the bedroom door and opened it. She stood in the open doorway, looking along the lighted corridor, tense, her ears straining. She now could only hear the muffled roar of the motor, driving the central heating and then the slight whirr from the deep freeze cabinet in the kitchen. She frowned, annoyed with herself for imagining odd sounds, then as she was about to turn back to her room, she again paused and stiffened.

She was sure now she had heard a sound. A footfall? A door shutting? A door opening? Some sound that didn’t blend in with the expected sounds of the villa.

She listened but could hear nothing now.

Had Larry come back?

She moved into the corridor, her heart thumping, her breathing a little laboured. She waited, listening, then she heard the sound again: a door closing softly. There could be no mistaking that sound. All the doors in the villa were of heavy oak. It was impossible to close them silently. Every one of them gave out a little clicking sound no matter how carefully they were shut.

There was someone in the villa!

Was it Larry?

Panic surged through her until she got hold of herself. She turned swiftly back into her bedroom, ran across to one of the closets, opened the door, slid open a drawer and her hand dropped on a.22 automatic pistol: a tiny, but vicious weapon she had often carried in the streets of New York when a woman with her looks had to have protection after dark. The gun gave her a feeling of security, and with this feeling of security, she began also to feel angry.

She went to the open door of the bedroom.

“Who’s there?” she called, pitching her voice high.

Silence greeted her. She hesitated only for a moment, then lifting the gun, she aimed it at the door at the far end of the corridor and squeezed the trigger.

The bang of the gun sounded very loud in the stillness of the villa. A tiny hole appeared in the woodwork of the door and splinters flew.

At least, she thought, whoever it was in the villa now knew she had a gun. Bracing herself, she went down the corridor and threw the door open. There was nothing to see: only the lights, the thick royal blue carpet and the corridor leading to the front door. Again she paused to listen, but although she remained motionless for several nerve-racking minutes, she heard nothing to alarm her further.

Still holding the gun, she went back to the bedroom. She put on her coat, her hat and gloves. She was fighting off a growing panic as she paused to look at her pale, drawn face in the mirror. Then holding the gun in her right hand and the suitcase in her left hand, leaving all the lights on, she walked warily down the corridor, opened the front door, hesitated for a moment, then switched on the lights to the garage. She put down her suitcase and locked the front door. Turning, she walked swiftly to the security of the Mercedes.