So What Happens To Me?

Nine

I came awake the following morning around 10.00. I was relaxed, my face and arms were returning to normal and I felt pretty good. Room service sent up eggs and grilled ham and I made a leisurely breakfast. This was the way to live, I told myself. I looked out of the window at the sparkling sea and decided I would take a swim, then pick up a dolly bird, take her to lunch and then a drive in the Caddy. If she wasn’t too stupid, I’d take her for a night on the town and bring her back here.

While I smoked my first cigarette of the day thinking of my future, the telephone bell rang.

‘Jack? I wanted to thank you for the roses.’

Hearing her voice did something extraordinary to me. It flashed into my mind that this woman — Mrs. Victoria Essex — could now prove lethal to me. Right now I was Lane Essex’s special pet. I was in charge of his airfield. I was going to supervise the building of a new ten million dollar plane. I was being paid fifty thousand dollars a year for this and he was even paying my income tax. But if he found out I was screwing his wife, all this would explode in my face.

Lying there on the bed the telephone receiver against my ear, it came to me that this job was something I had unconsciously dreamed of: to be an executive with power, working for a billionaire.

A cold sick feeling took hold of me. I knew this woman had to be handled very, very carefully. Everyone connected with Essex Enterprises had warned me she was a blueprint for a bitch. Up to now, she and I had jelled because I had wanted her and she had wanted me, but so far as I was concerned, not now.

‘Vicky! How are you?’ I forced my voice to sound ardent.

‘I’m recovering. My feet still hurt. Lane tells me he has taken care of you. Are you satisfied Jack? You have only to tell me: I can handle Lane.’

A drop of cold sweat ran down the side of my nose and I flicked it away.

‘Satisfied? He leant over backwards, and I have you to thank.’

‘Good.’ A pause, then she said. ‘He’s just left for Moscow. I’m going to the cabin: join me at six,’ and she hung up.

Slowly, I replaced the receiver.

Suddenly my planned day of fun turned grey. I knew every time she and I met, I was putting my new career into jeopardy.

Should anyone see us and send word to Essex, I would have no career, and yet I knew Mrs. Victoria Essex was far too dangerous to refuse.

The relaxed happy hours on the beach with a brainless dolly bird were now a pipe dream! I had to drive to the cabin, risk my future because Mrs. Victoria Essex had beckoned.

I spent the morning and most of the afternoon in my room, brooding. I drank too much. I didn’t feel like eating. Then around 17.00, I went to the garage, got in the Caddy and drove to the cabin.

Sam came out into the sunshine. I nodded to him as he beamed, taking my overnight bag. He could betray me, I thought. A word from him to Essex would leave me out in the very dark cold.

Vicky was lying on the divan, sipping a dry martini.

‘Jack!’

‘How are you?’

She still had a few tiny blemishes from the insect bites on her skin, but they had been skillfully treated. She looked marvellous in a simple red cotton dress that reached to her ankles.

She looked up at me: her big violet eyes full of desire as she finished the martini and set down the glass.

‘Lock the door, Jack. I want you.’

As I turned the key, I again realised the trap I was in, but in spite of knowing this, I wanted her: no man alive wouldn’t want her.

Our lovemaking was fierce. Twice she cried out wildly and I cringed, wondering if Sam was listening outside the door. When she was finally satisfied, she smiled up at me.

‘You’re quite a man Jack. Let’s have a drink.’

So we had martinis, then Sam brought in dinner of lobster soup, grilled salmon steaks, salad and coffee.

She talked: I listened.

‘I must tell you about Lane.’ she said with a laugh. ‘He was really furious with me that I had taken a ride on the Condor. I’ve never seen him so mad. He sacked poor Thompson who let me on. If it wasn’t for my feet, he would have beaten me.’

I couldn’t imagine any man beating this woman.

‘Do you go along with that?’

She laughed.

‘Men have their kinks. I don’t mind so long as it keeps him happy. I smoke a reefer before he begins.’ She laughed again. ‘In a way, it’s quite fun.’

I suddenly felt sickened by this.

‘Vicky... do you think I should stay the night?’ I asked. ‘Don’t you think it’s dangerous?’

Her eyes turned hard as she stared at me.

‘Don’t you want to stay with me Jack?’

Did I hell! One slip and I would lose my future.

‘Of course, but I’m thinking of you. It’s damn dangerous. Someone...’

‘There’s no someone.’ She stretched herself like a beautiful sleek cat. ‘Turn on the telly. Let’s watch the fights.’

So we spent the next two hours watching bums hanging onto each other and hitting the air around each other, then Sam came in to clear the dishes.

‘Carry me to bed Jack,’ she said. ‘My feet still hurt.’

Picking her up, taking her into her bedroom, laying her on the king size bed meant nothing to me. I just wanted to get away, but that, I knew, was something I wasn’t going to do.

‘Undress me Jack.’

I could hear Sam washing the dishes. Reluctantly I undressed her while she lay still, smiling at me. When I had got her into a shortie nightdress, she said, ‘Take a shower Jack.’ The violet eyes had turned hungry. ‘Hurry...’

Around 01.00, we finally fell asleep. She woke me as the dawn light came through the open window and we made love again. She seemed insatiable. I was still in a deep, exhausted sleep when she woke me again.

‘Get up Jack. It’s after ten. Go into the spare bedroom. The doctor’s coming.’

I dragged myself, half asleep, into the spare bedroom. I dropped onto the bed, feeling as if I had been fed through a mincer. I slept.

What seemed minutes later, a gentle hand shook me awake.

‘Lunch will be ready in an hour, Mr. Crane,’ Sam said softly.

I staggered out of bed, took a cold shower, dressed and went into the living room. I was feeling like hell.

Vicky was sipping a dry martini.

‘Hi Jack! Did you rest?’

I forced a grin.

‘Yes, I find you marvellously exhausting.’ I reached for the cocktail shaker. ‘What did the quack say?’

She grimaced.

‘He wanted to shoot me full of antibiotics, but I said no.’

‘You’re right.’ I drank half the martini to give me courage, then said, ‘I have to go to the city this morning. I won’t be long, but I have to go.’

She put down her drink and eyed me.

‘Why?’

Just looking at her, seeing those violet eyes turn glass hard seeing her face tighten into a stone mask told me as nothing else could that I was handling dynamite.

So I told her about Claude Kendrick and Orzoco. She listened, staring at me.

‘I must get Orzoco fixed.’ I concluded. ‘The only way is to pay back the money, then he can’t beef. I have to see Kendrick and tie it up.’

She drew in a long, slow breath.

‘You’ve certainly involved yourself in a mess, haven’t you?’ There was an edge to her voice.

‘I can handle it. You don’t have to worry.’

That was absolutely the wrong thing to have said. She picked up her cocktail glass and threw it viciously across the room. The glass exploded against the wall. She leaned forward, glaring at me.

‘Worry? What the hell do you mean? If you involve me in your sordid hijack, you’ll be sorry you’re alive! Go and fix it! But don’t you dare involve me!’

‘Take it easy, Vicky.’ I was shocked at her viciousness. ‘There’s no need to get angry. I’ll fix it.’

‘You’d better!’

Looking at her as she glared at me, her face like stone, her eyes blazing, she lost the glamour she ever had for me. For the first time I could understand why everyone had warned me that she was a blueprint of a bitch.

As I left the room, she screamed after me, ‘And come back! I want you here before five o’clock!’

Claude Kendrick received me in his room with a wry smile.

‘It’s all fixed, cheri: no problems. I have a document for you to sign. I have talked to Orzoco. He understands. Actually, he isn’t displeased. He has salvaged a lot of expensive items from the aircraft which he gets for nothing.’

‘How about the wreck?’

Kendrick smiled.

‘It doesn’t exist anymore. It’s all right. There’s no problem. Just sign here. This assigns your company to Orzoco.’

I signed with the name I had used to register the company: Jack Norton.

That seemed to be that.

‘I understand Mr. Essex is going to build another Condor?’ Kendrick said looking slyly at me. ‘Maybe we could do another deal?’

‘Not a hope.’

He lifted his orange wig, stared inside it and slapped it back on his head.

‘Yes.’ He squinted up at me. ‘Mrs. Essex owns a number of expensive baubles: particularly a diamond necklace. I would be in the market if you could arrange something.’

‘Get stuffed, fatty.’ I said and left him.

I got into the Caddy. The time by the dashboard clock was 13.30. I wasn’t expected back until 17.00. I decided to return to my apartment. I needed time to think.

I ordered the special for the day and it was served on a trolley. I ate it, then lit a cigarette and sat by the open window.

I told myself that once I began working for Essex, I would be out of Vicky’s clutches. I had to ride for the next four days, but once I reported for work, I would be safe. She would know this and have to accept it. I would be on the move all the time to satisfy Essex. To run the airfield and to supervise the building of the new Condor would give me no time to be in bed with Mrs. Victoria Essex.

I had four more nights of risk and I sweated at the thought. Still. I tried to assure myself, her risk was as great as mine, and if she was satisfied she was safe, sleeping with me, surely I could feel safe too.

At this moment, my front door bell rang.

Without thinking it was anyone but the waiter to take away the trolley, I got up and opened the door.

There is a phrase people use: he jumped out of his skin. An exaggeration, of course, no one can jump out of his skin, but he can do so mentally. He can be so shocked that blood leaves his face, he turns cold, and for a long moment, he becomes breathless. That was what happened to me when I saw Pam Osborn standing in the doorway.

There she was, blonde hair falling to her shoulders in a cascade of gold with her narrow, high cheek bones and her large green eyes. She had on a buttercup-coloured blouse and white stretch pants and her smile was the smile of a panther.

‘Hi Jack!’ she said. ‘Surprised?’

I retreated from her and she came into the room, closing the door.

Pam!

From the moment I had insisted that she shouldn’t fly with us and that she had to wait in Merida, she had gone completely out of my mind. Now here she was: the one fatal link between me and the hijack. I had believed, after talking to Kendrick, that I was clear of trouble. I also believed I could get clear of Vicky. She would soon get bored with me when I couldn’t run when she beckoned. Up to this moment, my future had looked settled, but not now... certainly not now.

I stood watching her as she chose a chair and sat down.

‘I’m so happy Jack, that you are making such a success of your life,’ she said as she opened her handbag and took out a pack of cigarettes. ‘I’ve been talking to Dolly Byrnes: she’s a special friend of mine. So you’re now Essex’s white-headed boy.’ She stared at me: the hatred in those green eyes was chilling. ‘Fifty thousand a year, tax free, this nice apartment, a Caddy and Mr. Big Shot at the airfield. How marvellous!’

I sat down. I was over the shock now and my mind was beginning to work.

‘Fantastic, isn’t it?’ I was aware my voice was a little husky. ‘That’s the way the cookie crumbles, Pam. A terrible thing about Bernie. I had no idea he had a dicky heart: did you?’

‘No.’ She lit her cigarette. ‘I went to his funeral: it was the least I could do. I hoped you would have been there too.’

A chill crawled up my spine. So she could explode the story that we had crashed into the sea.

‘I know you and Bernie...’

‘Don’t let’s talk about Bernie,’ she cut in. ‘He’s dead. Let’s talk about me.’

‘Sure.’ Without any hope I went on, ‘Do you want your job back Pam? I can fix it.’

‘How nice of you Jack. Well, no... I will want something rather better than that... now.’

So it was going to be blackmail

An immediate thought dropped into my mind. She had come here alone. Suppose I killed her? Would that stop this nightmare that was slowly building up around me? So okay, I killed her, but what was I going to do with her body?

I said. ‘What can I do to be helpful Pam?’

‘I’ve been talking to Claude. He tells me you’ve returned all the money. Claude hasn’t been helpful. He told me to talk to you.’ She crossed her slim legs. ‘Bernie was planning to marry me. We would have shared a million dollars. I would love to own a million dollars.’

I nodded.

‘Who wouldn’t?’

She flicked ash on the carpet.

‘I spent five days at the Continental Hotel at Merida.’ She regarded me, her green eyes stoney. ‘They could have been dull, lonely days, but as it happened, Juan picked me up.’

‘You were always a girl to find friends.’ I said.

‘Come on Jack! You’re not listening: Juan Aulestria. Remember? He works — used to work for Orzoco: remember now?’

My mind went back to the tall, thin man with thick longish hair and the smoothness of a snake and my heart skipped a beat.

‘Juan was very kind to me,’ Pam went on. ‘He’s with me now: we’re staying at the Hilton. He thought it would be more tactful for me to see you first, then he will talk to you.’ Her red lips parted in what could be called a smile. ‘Juan has marvellous tact.’

I had had enough of this cat and mouse act. I saw now that she had me in a comer. I was thankful I hadn’t done anything stupid like killing her. Aulestria was far more dangerous than she could ever be.

‘Let’s skip the buildup,’ I said. ‘Let’s talk business. What do you want?’

She took from her bag an envelope and tossed it into my lap.

‘Take a look Jack.’

The envelope contained four good photographs of the Condor wreck as it lay in the jungle. There was no mistaking the plane. Its name and number were clear on the fuselage. The fourth picture made me stiffen. It was of Erskine’s dead body, his head in a halo of blood.

‘Just in case you miss the point of that photo,’ Pam said, ‘and I’m sure you don’t: what was Harry doing out of the flight cabin at the time of the crash?’

I put the photos on the table.

‘What else?’ I asked and lit a cigarette. I was surprised to see my hands were steady.

‘Isn’t that enough?’ She lifted her eyebrows mockingly.

‘You could talk yourself into trouble. You were part of the hijack.’

‘You prove it. I was Bernie’s girl. He told me to wait for him in Merida. I had no idea what you three were planning. Juan is going to tell the insurance people. If they are to be told.’

‘Okay. So what’s the pay-off?’

‘Five hundred thousand dollars: my half share of Bernie’s money.’

I couldn’t believe it. Staring at her, I said, ‘Come on!’

‘You heard Jack.’

‘And where do you imagine I could raise money like that?’

‘From the Essex bitch: from where else?’

‘You’re crazy! She would no more give me a sum like that than fly to the moon.’

Pam smiled her hateful smile of triumph.

‘She will.’ She took another photograph from her bag. ‘I wouldn’t have thought of it but Juan did. He arranged for a private eye to keep tabs on you the moment you returned here.’ She flicked the photo into my lap. ‘Five hundred thousand is nothing to her. She’ll pay to keep this photo away from Mr. Lane Essex.’

I looked at the photograph. It showed me outside the cabin, standing by the new Caddy. I was handing my overnight bag to Sam.

She left behind her the smell of cheap scent and the five damning photographs. Just before she left she said Aulestria would be contacting me.

‘From now on Jack, he’ll be in charge of the negotiations. We won’t wait long. See the bitch and fix it.’

I wondered how Vicky would react. I was sunk. That I knew, but could I get her out of this mess? If Sam’s loyalty stood up under pressure, that photo of me arriving at the cabin wasn’t all that damaging. Vicky could tell Essex that she had lent me the cabin while I was on vacation and she had never been near it. After thinking, I realised this was a pipe dream. She must have told Essex she was going to the cabin and I was sure Sam wouldn’t stand up to an Essex cross examination.

So what was to be done?

I put the photographs back in the envelope and the envelope in my breast pocket. I lit a cigarette while I tried to find a way out. My first thought was to trap Pam and Aulestria somehow and kill them, but that too was a pipe dream. Aulestria was no fool. He would have taken precautions, lodging another set of photographs with an attorney with instructions: in the event of my death. Had Pam been handling this on her own, I was sure I could trap and kill her, but not Aulestria.

Again I thought of Vicky. I was wasting time, trying to find a way out. I had to discuss it with her and I cringed at the thought of her explosion. You involve me in this and you’ll be sorry you’re alive! Now, because she had had hot pants for me, she was involved. Because she couldn’t give me up, she had lied about the crash not only to Essex but also to the insurance people.

I looked at my watch. The time was 14.45.

Bracing myself, I left the apartment and drove back to the cabin. It was a drive I was to remember for the rest of my days. The nearer I got to the cabin the more scared I became. I had already seen her in a rage and I flinched at the thought of how she would react once she knew how involved she was.

I also thought of the years I could spend behind bars. I couldn’t hope to get out under fifteen years. I would be middle aged by then and fit for nothing. Very late in the day I thought of my old man. This would kill him: I was sure of that.

I pulled up outside the cabin and Sam beaming, opened the door.

I went into the cabin, leaving him to put the Caddy out of sight, in one of the garages.

Vicky was lying on the settee, a copy of Vogue in her hand. I stood in the doorway, looking at her. She put down the magazine and smiled at me.

‘Hi Jack!’ She laughed. ‘You’re nice and early.’ She patted the settee. ‘Come and kiss me.’

I moved into the room and shut the door. I didn’t approach her, but stood still, my shoulders against the door.

She lifted her eyebrows.

‘Come on Jack! You mustn’t take me seriously. I was mad. I get mad. Have you fixed it?’

‘Start getting mad again.’ I said. I took the envelope from my pocket and tossed it onto her lap.

Her violet eyes turned hard. The sexy, hungry smile went away like a fist when it becomes a hand.

‘What is this?’

‘Take a look.’

She stared at the envelope but didn’t touch it.

‘What is it?’

I came to the settee, picked up the envelope, took out the five photos and spread them out on her lap.

She looked at them, then slowly picked each one up and examined it carefully. She finally came to the one of me and Sam. She stared at it for a longer moment, then she put the photos together and offered them to me.

‘How much?’

Apart from the fact her face was stone hard and had lost colour and her eyes were glittering, she was fantastically calm. I could tell by the way her breasts moved under the sweat shirt that her breathing was even and that must mean her heart beat and her pulse were normal.

‘How much?’ she repeated.

This was a remarkable woman. She didn’t have to have it spelt out and the explosion I had expected didn’t materialise.

‘Five hundred thousand... half a million.’

She stared up at me. ‘You’re an expensive lover.’

I didn’t say anything.

‘Well, don’t look as if the end of the world has come. Sit there.’ She pointed to a chair nearby. ‘Tell me about it.’

I sat down.

She lay motionless, staring down at her hands as I told her about Pam and Aulestria.

‘They won’t stop at half a million of course,’ she said as if speaking to herself. ‘I pay them off and later they will come back: blackmailers always do.’ She looked up and regarded me. ‘You killed Erskine. Could you kill them?’

‘Yes, but that won’t solve this problem. Aulestria will have protected himself.’

She nodded.

‘The alternative is I go to my husband and tell him I’ve been foolish and hope he will be kind to me.’ Again it sounded as if she were talking to herself.

‘You could do that,’ I said nervously.

She stared at me.

‘You’re a little man aren’t you Jack? You’re now wondering what is going to happen to you.’

‘I want to get you out of this mess.’

‘Do you?’ She smiled. ‘Well, that’s something I have — a half million. What do you suggest? Shall I pay these two? It would be no problem until they come back for more. What do you think?’

It was my turn to stare at her.

‘You mean you can find five hundred thousand?’ My voice was husky.

‘Of course. That’s no problem. The problem is should we do it?’

My mind raced.

If she could raise the money and if those two were satisfied with the pay-off, this could let me out. I might even be able to keep my new job with Essex Enterprises. Why shouldn’t they be satisfied with half a million?

‘It’s a solution,’ I said, trying not to sound eager.

‘So it is. Yes... as you so rightly say. it’s a solution.’ She stubbed out her cigarette. ‘Well, so let’s pay them.’ She paused to look me over. ‘You’ve met them: I haven’t. Do you think we can trust them?’

I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to say so. I was too anxious to get off the hook.

‘For that money, they must play,’ I said. ‘For God’s sake! A half a million!’

‘They’re at the Hilton, didn’t you say? See if you can reach them Jack. Let’s get it settled.’

‘You really mean it. Vicky? You’re going to pay then?’

‘Yes. I can’t land dear Lane with a ten million dollar bill for his stupid plane, plus the knowledge that I’ve been behaving like a hooker, can I?’ She shrugged. ‘After all what is half a million?’

Giving her no chance to change her mind, I called the Hilton and asked for Mr. Aulestria. There was a delay, then a man’s voice said. ‘This is Aulestria.’

‘Crane. The deal’s on,’ I said. ‘How do we fix it?’

‘Here at eleven o’clock tomorrow.’ Aulestna said and hung up.

‘At the Hilton at eleven o’clock.’ I told Vicky.

‘It will take me two days to raise the money. Find out how it is to be paid.’ Her violet eyes were very impersonal. ‘Now run away. I must talk to my broker.’ She flicked her fingers at me. ‘Go home.’

I had always had a presentiment that sooner or later there would come a time when she would flick her fingers at me the way she flicked them at her other men slaves, but it didn’t bother me. I was too thankful that there hadn’t been a scene and that she was going to pay and my future wasn’t in jeopardy to let a little thing like that cause me grief.

‘I’ll report back to you,’ I said as I moved to the door.

She was reaching for the telephone and didn’t even look at me so I went out into the fading sunshine, got the Caddy from the garage and drove back to my apartment.

I knew there was every chance that Aulestria would squeeze her again, but I told myself that she was so goddamn rich, she could afford to be squeezed.

Yes... my future looked bright again.

The following morning. I arrived at the Hilton hotel a few minutes to eleven. As I was asking at the desk for Mr. Aulestria a man came up and lurched against me. He immediately apologised and I thought he was just another clumsy jerk, who banged into people and I forgot about him but later, I was to remember him.

Aulestria was waiting for me in a large room with a double bed and the usual Hilton fitments. Pam was sitting by the window. She didn’t look around when Aulestria opened the door.

‘Ah, Mr. Crane,’ he said, smiling his. snake’s smile. ‘Good to see you again.’ He closed the door. ‘So she is going to pay?’

‘That’s right.’

‘How wise of her. She has agreed to five hundred thousand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well... a little unexpected. I was rather expecting her to bargain. However, that is very satisfactory. I want the money in bearer bonds.’

‘That can be arranged. I want all the photos and all the negatives and an acknowledgement from you that the transaction terminates the deal.’

‘Of course you get the photos and the negatives, but no acknowledgement.’

‘That means you can put the squeeze on again.’

‘Mr. Crane! I assure you. We are perfectly satisfied with half a million, aren’t we, Pam?’

Without looking around, she said, ‘If you are Juan, then I am.’

‘Be assured, Mr. Crane. When will the money he ready?’

‘The day after tomorrow.’

‘Quite satisfactory, but not later. Bring the bonds here at ten o’clock. Don’t be late. We have a plane to catch.’

He conducted me to the door.

‘What a fortunate man you are, Mr. Crane.’

I stared at him.

‘You think so?’

‘Ask yourself,’ and he bowed me out of the room.

I drove back to my apartment and called Vicky.

‘Bonds?’ There was a pause. ‘All right, I’ll get them. Sam will deliver them to you tomorrow night,’ and she hung up.

I replaced the receiver and stared out of the open window. There was something so out of character about this set-up that it began to bother me. I had expected a vicious explosion from this woman: no explosion had come. I had been willing to bet that she wouldn’t have parted with half a million dollars and yet she had meekly submitted. The only thing in character had been those flicking fingers.

I tried to convince myself that she had so much to lose that half a million was an acceptable pay-off. Like her husband, she was stinking rich, such a sum was like a hundred dollars to me and yet somehow it didn’t jell. It was so completely out of character. As I sat staring at the sunset, my future began to fray at the edges.

I had a meal, then wandered around the city, then went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. Around 02.00 I couldn’t stand my thoughts any longer. I took three sleeping pills and they gave me the oblivion I had to have.

I slept until midday. The rest of the day stretched endlessly for me. I wondered what I was going to do with myself. I thought of Vicky and suddenly wanted her physically, but I knew that was finished. The finger flicking act and those impersonal, cold violet eyes told me that as nothing else could.

I went down to the bar, had a double Scotch on the rocks and a chicken sandwich. It was all I could do to eat it. Then I drove down to the beach. The dolly birds were there, but they no longer interested me, I sat in the car, staring at the sea until dusk, my thoughts tormenting me. Then I returned to my apartment and watched the telly.

The following day was a carbon copy of the previous day. I kept telling myself to relax. By tomorrow we would have Aulestria off our backs. The day after I would report to Wes Jackson and begin work. I was sure that once I began to work, all this would fall behind me. I tried to think what I would do once I was in charge of the airfield. I even made a few notes, but my heart wasn’t in it.

Around 19.00, my front door bell rang. I let Sam in. He handed me a bulky envelope.

‘How is she. Sam?’ I asked, taking the envelope.

‘She’s okay. Mr. Crane. She’ll always be okay.’ He shuffled his feet. ‘I guess I’ll say goodbye. I’m moving on.’

‘What do you mean?’

He smiled sadly.

‘Mrs. Essex doesn’t need me anymore.’

‘You mean she’s given you the gate?’

‘That’s it, Mr. Crane.’

‘What are you going to do?’ I was shocked.

‘I’ll get by. I have my savings. I’m going home.’

‘You mean she’s thrown you out... just like that?’

‘It had to happen sometime. She’s a difficult lady. If things go right with her it’s fine: if they don’t it’s bad.’

‘I’m sorry. Sam. I feel it’s my fault.’

His nice, kindly face split into a rueful grin.

‘If it hadn’t been you it would be someone else.’ He wiped his hand on the seat of his trousers, then offered it. ‘Well, so long, Mr. Crane, it’s been my pleasure knowing you.’

We shook hands and he left.

Could this happen to me? I wondered. After this was over, after Aulestria had been paid off, was I too going to get the gate? I went over and sat in a chair.

Yes, I told myself. The writing was on the wall. You’ll get the gate. She won’t want you around as she doesn’t want Sam around. You’ll go: that’s for sure.

I looked down at the bulky envelope I was holding in my hand. I ripped it open. It contained five bearer bonds, each worth $100,000. I could get in the Caddy and take off. These bonds were cash. I could do that, but I wasn’t going to.

I sat there thinking. My future had exploded. What was going to happen to me?

I suddenly felt in the need of comfort and there was only one person on earth who could give me that.

My old man answered the telephone: his voice sounded tired.

‘Well, this is a surprise. How are you Jack?’

‘I’m okay. I’ve been thinking. This job isn’t working out. Is that garage still up for sale?’

‘Could be. I don’t know. I’ll ask. Would you be interested Jack?’

‘Maybe. Ask anyway.’ I had twenty thousand dollars of Essex’s money in the bank. I wouldn’t have to borrow from my old man. ‘How’s the garden looking?’

‘Wonderful. The roses have never been so good Jack...’ I could hear his excited breathing. His voice no longer sounded tired. ‘Are you coming home?’

‘Maybe, Dad. I’ll let you know in a little while. Yes... I could be coming home.’

‘All right, son. I’ll wait to hear.’

‘I won’t keep you waiting long. Bye now. Dad,’ and I hung up.

I didn’t take any sleeping pills that night.

It occurred to me as I got into the Caddy the following morning that this would be the last time I would drive it. It was a fine car and I started the motor with regret. I drove to the Hilton and parked. A distant church clock chimed the hour. Holding the envelope containing the bonds, I walked up the hotel steps and into the imposing lobby. In a few minutes, I told myself as I entered the elevator, the pressure would slacken.

I walked along the corridor and tapped on Aulestria’s door. It opened immediately and Aulestria stood aside to let me in. Then he stepped into the corridor, looked to right and left, then came back into the room.

Pam was standing by the window. She had on a light dustcoat and two expensive-looking suitcases stood nearby.

‘You have the bonds, Mr. Crane?’ Aulestria asked.

‘I have them.’ I took them from the envelope and showed them to him. He didn’t attempt to take them from my hand, but peered at them, then nodded.

‘Satisfactory.’ He took from his pocket an envelope. ‘Here are the photos and the negatives. Take them and I’ll take the bonds.’

We made the exchange. I checked the photos and the negatives.

‘How many more copies have you kept back?’ I asked.

‘Mr. Crane... please. You can trust me entirely.’ He smiled. ‘There are no copies. I give you my word. Mrs. Essex can be quite happy about that.’

‘You’ll be sorry if you try for another squeeze,’ I said, ‘but that’s your funeral.’

‘There won’t be another squeeze, Mr. Crane.’

‘I’m just telling you.’

I turned and left the room. Walked down the corridor to the elevator and rode down to the lobby.

I was putting the envelope containing the photos in my breast pocket when a voice said gently, ‘I’ll have those Crane.’

I spun around, my heart jumping.

Wes Jackson was standing just behind me, his teeth showing in his shark’s smile. He held out his fat hand.

‘I’m representing Mrs. Essex. She has asked me to collect the photos from you.’

‘She’ll get them, but from me.’

‘She anticipated that would be your reaction.’ He handed me a slip of paper. ‘Here is an authorisation.’ His little eyes dwelt on my face. ‘She doesn’t want to see you again.’

I took the slip of paper.

I stared at the signature, then at Jackson.

‘So she told him?’

‘Naturally. No one has ever succeeded in blackmailing the Essex people: no one ever will. Give me the photographs.’

I gave them to him.

‘Thank you. Now, Crane, let’s sit down for a few minutes. Let us both witness the end of this sordid little drama. It will interest you.’ He laid his fat hand on my arm and guided me to two lounging chairs that faced the elevators. He sat down and glanced at the photographs, then put them in his pocket.

I sat down.

I had anticipated this, but all the same it came as a shock.

‘You will leave Paradise City immediately,’ Jackson said. ‘You will be wise never to return. You can consider yourself fortunate. When discussing your case. Mr. Essex took into consideration that you did save Mrs. Essex’s life. This weighed in your favour. I am sure you will be wise enough to say nothing to anyone of what has happened. I can tell you we have withdrawn the insurance claim for the Condor and by doing this, we have neutralised the blackmail threat. The other photo means nothing.’

‘They’re getting away with half a million dollars,’ I said, ‘You call that smart?’

He smiled, looking more like a shark than ever.

‘No one gets away with anything when dealing with Mr. Essex.’ He stretched out his long, thick legs. ‘Ah! Do look. Crane. This will interest you.’

One of the elevator doors slid open. Pam, followed by Aulestria came out into the lobby. Behind them were two beefy looking men with cop written all over them.

Aulestria’s face was ashen. Pam looked as if she were about to collapse. The two men herded them across the lobby and down to a waiting car.

Another man, again with cop written all over him. came from another elevator, carrying the two suitcases I had seen in Aulestria’s room. He set them down and came over to Jackson. He dropped the heavy envelope containing the bonds into Jackson’s lap.

‘No problem,’ he said and picking up the suitcases, he walked to the exit, got in the waiting car which drove rapidly away.

‘Now you see, how our organisation works,’ Jackson said smugly. ‘Those three men are ex-police officers. They will escort those two petty blackmailers onto a plane to Merida: it is a chartered flight and they will have the plane entirely to themselves. Arriving at Merida they will be met by an extremely hostile reception. I need not mention that Mr. Orzoco has been alerted. Aulestria stupidly took funds belonging to Mr. Orzoco’s party. They will know how to deal with him and with the woman. Aulestria is under the impression that the men escorting him belong to the City police. Every word you and he exchanged was taped and they have played the tape back to him. He imagines he is going to be prosecuted for blackmail. It won’t be until he is put on board the plane that he will realise what is happening: then it will be too late.’ He gave me his shark’s smile. ‘Little, stupid people Crane, like yourself. There is an old saying: the clay pot should never go down stream with the gold pot. The clay pot invariably gets broken.’ I could see he was enjoying himself. ‘You perhaps didn’t realise that I had arranged for a bug to be planted on you when you first called on Aulestria. You might give it to me. It’s in your right coat pocket.’

Dazed, I groped in my pocket and came up with a black object no bigger than an Aspro pill. Then I remembered the man who had lurched against me.

As I gave Jackson the bug, I said, ‘So what happens to me?’

‘Nothing.’ He heaved himself to his feet and regarded me contemptuously. ‘Nothing ever will,’ and he walked away, leaving me staring after him.

Perhaps he will be wrong. Ever is a long time.

I sat there thinking of my old man, the small time town and the garage that could still be for sale.

I suddenly felt a surge of confidence.

After all Henry Ford began small, didn’t he?