The Joker in the Pack

Chapter eight

Helga reached for her glass of brandy while she struggled to absorb the shock of what Jackson had said. She forced herself to sip the brandy, knowing that Jackson was watching her for a reaction.

Terry Shields? Herman’s daughter?

She thought of the girl with the Venetian red hair, the strong face, the wide, firm mouth and the big eyes. From the moment she had seen her, Helga had registered that this girl had character, that she was unusual, but Herman’s daughter?

Then she remembered the cable to Hinkle: the cold, callous message:

Did this stupid amateur blackmailer really think she would believe such a clumsy lie?

‘Oh, get out! Mr. Rolfe’s daughter is in Paris! I have proof of that!’

‘That cable she sent to Hinkle?’ Jackson shook his head. ‘That was just a blind. She didn’t want you to know she was here. She got a friend in Paris to send it. I heard her and Jones talking about it. I tell you, Mrs. Rolfe, Terry Shields is your step-daughter and she is planning to get rid of you.’

Helga hesitated. She couldn’t bring herself to believe this, but, looking at Jackson, she found it hard to believe he was lying and, besides, how did he know about the cable?

‘I can check if you are lying,’ she said, ‘and if you are, I’ll turn you over to the police. I mean this! Do you still say Terry Shields is Sheila Rolfe?’

He nodded.

‘I swear it, but wait a moment, Mrs. Rolfe. If you are satisfied I’m not lying, will you give me five thousand dollars to get away from here?’

‘If you are not lying,’ Helga said coldly, ‘I will give you five hundred dollars which is enough for you to leave here.’

‘Christ!’ Jackson beat his fist together. ‘You with all your money! I’ve got to get away! I’ve got to make a new start! What’s five thousand to you?’

She got to her feet.

‘Wait here.’

She went into the living room and called the Paradise City villa. The connection took a few minutes, then Hinkle’s fruity voice came over the line.

‘This is Mr. Herman Rolfe’s residence.’

‘Hinkle!’ How glad and relieved she was to hear his voice! ‘This is Mrs. Rolfe.’

‘Ah, madame. I was about to take the liberty of telephoning you as I have not heard from you,’ Hinkle said, reproach in his voice. ‘I have just called the hospital. It appears there is no change.’

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ she said, then went on, ‘I’m sorry not to have called before, but I have been busy.’

‘I am glad to hear that, madame. It must be lonely for you.’

Helga thought: Lonely? Could you or anyone else know how lonely?

‘How is everything at the villa, Hinkle?’

‘Not entirely satisfactory, madame. I am glad to be back, but I can assure you that by the time Mr. Rolfe and you return everything will be in order.’

‘I am sure it will.’ A pause, then she said, ‘Did you get the cable I forwarded to you from Miss Sheila?’

‘I did, madame. It distressed me.’

‘Yes, but the young don’t really care, do they? I am sure she is very busy.’

‘It would appear so, madame.’ Hinkle’s voice sounded mournful.

‘I have been thinking about Miss Sheila. I am disappointed not to have met her. When I think of a person it is helpful to have an image of them. Can you give me a description of her?’

‘A description of her, madame?’ Hinkle’s voice went up a note.

‘What is she like?’ Helga held on to her patience.

‘Well, madame, I would say she was a person of strong character.’ Obviously, from his voice, Hinkle didn’t approve of this conversation.

‘But her appearance, Hinkle? Is she fat, thin, tall, short?’

‘Miss Sheila has an excellent figure, madame. Like most young people she has improved on her appearance. She now has what I believe is referred to as Venetian red hair. It suits her very well.’

Helga experienced a little jolt.

‘That is interesting.’ She paused, then deliberately changing the subject, she went on, ‘Have you any plans yet about Mr. Rolfe’s study?’

‘Indeed yes, madame. I have already consulted an interior decorator. I am sure, when Mr. Rolfe returns, he will be most satisfied.’

‘Wonderful. All right, Hinkle. I am now going to play bridge. I just wanted to hear your voice.’

‘You are most kind, madame.’

‘And to say I miss your marvellous omelettes.’

As an exit line, she knew she couldn’t have done better. She replaced the receiver.

So Jackson wasn’t lying. This girl, calling herself Terry Shields, must be Herman’s daughter!

Jones and she are planning to get rid of you by Voodoo so she can inherit Rolfe’s money!

Could anything be more ridiculous? Then she thought of the doll with the needle in its head. She thought of Herman’s mysterious coma. For a brief moment she felt frightened, then the steel in her asserted itself. Know your enemy. She could hear her father’s dry, hard voice.

Now to handle Jackson. She would need to know everything he could tell her even if it cost her money.

She walked out on to the terrace. Jackson was sitting, slumped in his chair, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The reflected light from the swimming pool showed his face was shiny with sweat.

‘Right, Jackson,’ she said as she sat down. ‘So this girl is Sheila Rolfe. Now you start talking. I want to hear all about this. How did you find out who she was... did she tell you?’

‘Look, Mrs. Rolfe, if I don’t have another drink, I’ll flip my lid!’

‘Help yourself. The drinks are in the living room,’ Helga said impatiently. ‘You don’t expect me to wait on you, do you?’

He scrambled to his feet, and after a moment or so, returned with a bottle of brandy. He poured a drink, swallowed it, then poured more brandy into his glass.

‘Now start talking, Jackson!’

‘How about the money?’ He leaned forward and peered at her. ‘I’m not telling you anything more unless you promise to give me five thousand dollars!’

She could see he was slightly drunk and this made her uneasy. If he turned vicious there was nothing she could do about it. She must be careful how she handled him, she told herself.

‘If what you have to tell me is worth so much, I will pay you.’

He grinned uneasily at her.

‘It’ll be worth it. Let’s see the money, then I’ll start talking.’

She thought of the eight thousand dollars upstairs in her bedroom. He mustn’t know about that. He could over-power her, take the money and run.

‘You don’t imagine I keep a sum like that here? I will give you a cheque.’

He sipped more brandy, then shook his head.

‘No cheques. I want cash.’

‘That can be arranged. The Diamond Beach hotel will give me the money.’

He thought about this, then nodded.

‘Yeah. Well, okay. Then it is agreed: I talk, I get five thousand... right?’

She mustn’t let him think he was beginning to intimidate her.

‘Talk first, Jackson. It is for me to decide.’

He studied her, sipped more brandy, then set down his glass, his hand unsteady.

‘You’re a real toughie, aren’t you?’

‘Come on, Jackson... how did you find out this girl is Sheila Rolfe?’

‘She arrived on the same plane as you did,’ Jackson said, sitting back in his chair. ‘Acting on Rolfe’s instructions I was at the airport to see you arrive. When you left, Sheila came up to me and asked me if I knew of a cheap pad.’ He grinned. ‘I attract the chicks, Mrs. Rolfe. They are always coming up and asking me dopey questions. Then she asked if you were Mrs. Herman Rolfe. I asked myself why this chick was interested in you, so I got friendly with her. I drove her to a motel. I told her what my job was and that I was watching you. Then she said you were her stepmother so I asked her what she was doing here.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘By this time, Mrs. Rolfe, she and I were very friendly. I get very friendly with chicks pretty fast.’ He leered at her. ‘You know that, don’t you? I got very friendly with you, didn’t I?’

‘What did she say she was doing here?’ Helga asked, her face like stone.

‘She had seen in the papers her father had come here. She had always wanted to see Nassau. She had saved some money so she took off. Simple as that.’

‘Did she see her father?’

‘From a distance.’ Jackson shrugged. ‘From what she told me they don’t hit it off.’

‘And Jones? Where does he come in?’

‘That little creep? Like I told you, he worked for me. If there’s a snake... it’s Jones. I offered him a hundred dollars to search your apartment. When he found and read that letter to Winborn, the little bastard held me up for four thousand bucks to buy his goddamn motorbike. Then you blackmailed me and got the letter back. Then you started real trouble by telling him you wanted him in Paradise City. He came crying to me, but there was nothing I could do about it and I told him so. I won’t forget the way he looked at me... like a goddamn cornered rat. “I’m not going,” he said. “I’ve got a way to stop her leaving here.” He often used my beach hut to keep a lot of junk he didn’t want his mother to know about. After I had shut up my office, I went out there and found him making this doll. He’s damn clever with his hands. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was stopping you taking him to Paradise City. He said it was Voodoo magic. I told him he was crazy. I sat there watching him. When he had finished the doll, he drove the needle into the doll’s head, then he began to bang on a drum. After a while, he said Rolfe was not too ill to travel. I again told him he was crazy. He gave me a sly little grin and told me to wait and see.’

Helga stared at the doll.

‘This is utter rubbish and you know it!’ she said angrily.

‘Is it? What do you or I know about these coloured finks who live here? It worked, didn’t it? You didn’t take the fink to Paradise City, did you?’

‘It just happened my husband became worse.’

Jackson shrugged.

‘I’m telling you what happened. Now I’ll tell you something else. Sheila came to my beach hut when I wasn’t there and she met Jones. They hit it off. Don’t ask me how he found out who she was, but he did. Maybe she told him. She liked boasting about her rich father. Now this fink is no dope. I told you he wanted to hold you up for five hundred thousand but you didn’t believe me. He had read the letter and he knew Sheila was coming in for a million. He also knew just how rich Rolfe is. He thought why bother with a million? Why not grab the lot? With Rolfe and you out of the way, Sheila would get a lot more than a million. She and he were already rolling in the hay. So suppose he could persuade her to marry him? That’s the way the fink began to plan, so first things first... he begins carving a doll like this.’

‘Did Sheila know about this?’

‘Maybe... maybe not. I don’t know.’ Jackson’s eyes shifted from her direct stare.

‘But he told you?’

‘Yeah. When he bust his arm he couldn’t get the doll finished so he came to me and offered to cut me in. He wanted me to get something of yours you had worn, but I wouldn’t do it. So he did it himself, then the little bastard got scared I would talk so he called up Lopez and told him I was having it off with Maria.’ Jackson wiped his sweating face with the back of his hand. ‘So, Lopez is looking for me and I’ve got to get off the island pronto and I need money. This is where we came in, Mrs. Rolfe.’

‘If you imagine I believe for one moment any of this, you need your head examined,’ Helga said quietly. ‘But to be rid of you, I will give you a thousand dollars and that is all.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’ll get my bag.’

‘Wait, baby.’ Jackson leaned forward. ‘I want more than that. You say Voodoo is rubbish. Want to gamble on it?’ He pointed to the doll. ‘Take that needle out of the head. See what happens. The fink said to get Rolfe out of his coma, he had only to remove the needle. Go ahead and do it! Then call the hospital.’

‘Oh, stop it!’ Helga snapped. ‘I’m not listening to any more of this damn nonsense. I’ll give you the money and you’ll go.’

Jackson studied her.

‘Wait, baby, don’t rush this,’ he said. ‘I’ve got something very special to tell you. I read that letter to Winborn. I know if Rolfe lives you are out in the cold, but if he dies, you’ll have no problems. You want the old ruin to die, don’t you? You’ve been sitting around, willing him to die, haven’t you? Okay, suppose you make an experiment? The fink told me — and baby, listen hard to this — that if he took the needle out of the doll’s hear and stuck it where the doll’s heart is, Rolfe would be dead in minutes. That’s how the fink was planning to get rid of you, once he had finished the other doll. Maybe you haven’t the guts to do it, but for five thousand dollars, I’ll do it. What do you say? You don’t believe in Voodoo. Okay, I don’t believe in it either, so let’s see what happens. You promise me five thousand if Rolfe dies and I’ll move the needle!’

Suppose it worked? The thought flashed into Helga’s mind. Just suppose this ridiculous Voodoo theory wasn’t ridiculous. Suppose this half-drunk amateur blackmailer by moving the needle killed Herman? The very idea was sheer fantasy but she remembered Gritten saying that twenty years ago who would imagine men walking on the moon? So suppose it worked?

It would mean she would be free, that she would control an enormous sum of money and she wouldn’t have to face the life of a nun!

She stared at the doll. It brought back the picture of Herman lying in bed, his useless arm propped on a pillow, saliva dripping from his slack mouth.

Suppose he did die? Wouldn’t it be a blessing to him?

A sudden chill ran through her. No! This was a con trick! So far the cards had been falling her way, but now... the joker in the pack!

Aware her heart was beating furiously, she said, ‘I have had enough of this. I will give you a thousand dollars and no more. I have the money here. That is all you are going to get.’

‘No, it isn’t, baby. You know you want me to do it, but you haven’t the guts to say so.’ He reached out and took the doll from the box. ‘You don’t believe. I don’t believe.’ He took hold of the needle and jerked it from the doll’s head. ‘Now, baby, five thousand and I’ll fix this rich old bastard.’

Helga stepped back, knocking over her chair.

‘No! Leave it alone!’ Her voice was shrill.

Jackson grinned drunkenly at her.

‘Let’s experiment. You don’t believe, nor do I. So why not? Here we go!’ Holding the needle, he pushed it slowly and steadily into the doll’s chest. ‘Now... let’s see what happens.’

She stood staring at the doll lying, impaled, on the table. Had she imagined that the doll had given a little jerk as the needle had entered?

‘It’s done, baby,’ Jackson said. ‘Give it ten minutes to work, then call the hospital. Who knows? You could be worth millions!’

A sudden dreadful panic seized hold of Helga. A terrifying and horrible atmosphere seemed to her to have come into the room like a poisonous, invisible cloud. She turned and ran blindly from the room and up the stairs and into her bedroom. She slammed and locked the door. As she looked wildly around the room, she heard Jackson come pounding up the stairs. She darted to the telephone, and after two attempts, managed to dial the operator.

Jackson hammered on the door.

‘Open up, you stupid bitch!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t use the phone!’

She listened to the burr-burr on the line as Jackson stood away from the door, braced himself against the wall, then lifting his leg, he drove his foot hard against the door lock. The door flew open and he stormed into the room.

Helga heard a voice say, ‘Operator. What number do you want?’

As Helga screamed wildly, ‘Police!’ Jackson reached her, swung her away from the telephone and hit her on the side of her jaw with all the power of his panic-stricken arm. As she fell forward, he snatched up the telephone and slammed it down on her defenceless head.

Slowly, Helga drifted into consciousness. The first thing she became aware of was a curious weightlessness of her body. It was as if she was lying on a cloud. She was also aware of having no feeling in her limbs. She wondered if this was death. If it was, she thought, she would have no complaint. To float like this forever in a painless vacuum would be wonderful.

Then she became aware of distant voices: men’s voices, hushed but continuous. Then one of the men cleared his throat noisily. She frowned. Did the dead clear their throats? She opened her eyes.

She saw that she was in the luxurious bedroom of the rented villa and she was lying in the king’s size bed. She saw too that the sun was trying hard to penetrate the blinds, making white lines across the bed. She also saw the familiar figure of Nurse Fairely who was sitting by the window, peering out between the slots of the blind, and seeing her, Helga closed her eyes.

Then in spite of the feeling of weightlessness (she was probably under heavy sedation, she told herself), her mind became active. She remembered screaming for the police and seeing Jackson rushing at her. She remembered seeing his fist flying towards her and seeing a flash of white, searing light.

Lying in the comfortable bed, completely relaxed, she now realized her mistake in calling the police. How much better it would have been to have given Jackson all the money in the villa and to have got rid of him. Now, because she had panicked, here was a complete and utter mess. Had Jackson been caught? The telephone operator would have immediately alerted the police, but it would have taken at least ten minutes — probably longer — for a patrol car to have arrived. Had Jackson, who must have heard her scream for the police, got away in time?

If they caught him, the whole sordid story would come out. She recalled the gruesome commotion when Herman had had his stroke. The newspapermen like jackals, the T.V. cameras, the photographers! She could imagine the headlines: Mrs. Herman Rolfe Attached in a Lonely Villa! If Jackson were caught, he would tell how he had been hired by Herman to watch her because Herman no longer trusted her. (Imagine the sensation that would cause!) He would also tell about Herman’s letter to Winborn (more and great sensation!) and then how she had been trying to force Dick to go to Paradise City (sensational hints of seduction). The police would pick up Dick and he would talk. He might even say she was trying to get him into her bed!

A mess! You play your cards, you take some tricks, it looks like a winning hand, then along comes the Joker.

She wondered what the time was. How long had she been unconscious? From the feel of the sun on the bed, she thought it could be early afternoon.

She opened her eyes and through her long lashes, she regarded Nurse Fairely who was now looking at a glossy magazine, her fat face in repose. Her peaceful expression revealed inner contentment. Watching her, Helga felt a pang of envy. This woman was engaged in good and satisfying work. She probably never had any nagging problems and certainly no compulsive sex urge.

Then Helga saw the door open and Dr. Levi came in. Nurse Fairely got heavily to her feet.

‘How is she?’ Dr. Levi whispered.

‘Still sleeping, doctor.’

‘Hello,’ Helga said and was irritated her voice came as a whisper. ‘So you have come to look after me.’

Levi came silently to the bed.

‘Don’t talk, Mrs. Rolfe.’ His deferential voice annoyed her. ‘Everything is all right. You are under sedation. Just sleep. There is nothing to worry about.’

Perhaps there were some spineless women who would welcome this smooth, bedside manner, but it infuriated Helga. What did he imagine she was? One of those self-pitying, soft-centred, must-have-a-tranquillizer women without guts?

‘I will talk as much as I like,’ she snapped and was delighted that her voice had come back and with it its steel. ‘I’m not dying, am I?’

Startled Levi said, ‘Of course not, but you have concussion and a very badly bruised jaw, Mrs. Rolfe. It is better for you to try to relax and sleep.’

‘What happened to that man... the man who attacked me?’ she demanded. She had to know. ‘Did the police get him?’

‘Now please don’t worry.’

‘Did they get him?’ Her voice became shrill.

‘Not yet, Mrs. Rolfe. Now do please calm yourself. You need rest.’

She drew in a breath of relief. Had Jackson had time to find her bag and take the money? She hoped so for it would mean he was off the island by now. She wanted him well out of the reach of the police.

‘Yes.’ She closed her eyes.

‘I’ll see you this evening, Mrs. Rolfe. The police are most anxious to question you, but I have told them you are not to be disturbed.’

Helga flinched. She hadn’t thought that the police would ask probing questions.

‘I don’t want to see them just yet.’

‘Certainly not. You have a nice, little sleep.’

She restrained herself from snapping at him. He was treating her like a moron!

She heard him whispering to Nurse Fairely, then the door closed. Lying still, Helga’s mind became busy. What was she to tell the police? Suppose Jackson had got away? Could she lie herself out of this mess? She could tell the police it was some coloured man who had attacked her. She thought about this. As the police hadn’t caught Jackson as he had left the villa, surely it meant they hadn’t seen him. If she could keep Jackson out of this, then the whole sordid story could be swept under the rug.

She would have to be careful. A coloured man! This could be the solution! They would want a description. Her mind worked busily: tall, thin, middle-aged with a coloured handkerchief around his head, a dirty white shirt, dark trousers, bare feet. That description would match hundreds of the natives she had seen in the market and on the beach.

The more she thought about this, the safer it seemed. No one had seen Jackson arrive. It wasn’t likely he would have told anyone he was coming to get money from her. The weakness was if the police had seen Jackson run off. She decided to play it off the cuff. She was confident she could dominate a police officer.

‘Here is a nice cup of tea, Mrs. Rolfe,’ Nurse Fairely said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘I’m sure you must feel like a comforting drink.’

‘I think I do.’ She opened her eyes and managed a smile.

‘And here is something to help you to sleep.’

Obediently she swallowed the small capsule, then with the nurse’s help, she drank some of the tea.

Some minutes later, she drifted into a sleep that was empty of dreams, of fear, and of the coming problems she knew she would have to face.

When she awoke, she was conscious that her head was aching and her mouth sore, but she no longer felt dopey nor weightless. The sedation was over, she told herself with relief. From now on, her mind must be razor sharp. She looked around, then lifted her head from the pillow, wincing a little.

Nurse Fairely came to her.

‘How do you feel, Mrs. Rolfe?’

‘My head aches.’ She touched the side of her face. It felt swollen and tender. ‘What time is it?’

‘Just after eight. You slept beautifully all night.’

She stared at the nurse.

‘Is it another day? Have you been up all night?’

Nurse Fairely smiled.

‘Oh no, we have a night nurse. Do you fancy some breakfast? A lightly boiled egg? Tea?’

‘Tea, I think. Nothing to eat. My mouth’s as sore as hell.’

‘That’s not to be wondered at.’ Nurse Fairely moved to the door. ‘I’ll get you tea and I’ll give you something for your headache.’

‘No more pills,’ Helga said firmly.

Nurse Fairely left the room and Helga made the effort to sit up. For a moment her head swam, then apart from the dull ache, she suddenly felt fine.

Then the door opened and Hinkle, carrying a tea tray, came in.

‘Hinkle!’ Helga exclaimed, delighted. ‘Why, bless you! When did you arrive?’

‘Yesterday afternoon, madame. As soon as I heard the distressing news.’

‘Thank you, Hinkle. I only wish now I hadn’t sent you away.’

‘It was most unfortunate, madame.’

She looked sharply at him as he poured the tea. He looked more like a grieving father than a bishop this morning. Her heart warmed to him. I really believe he cares about me, she thought. He must be the only person in the world who does.

‘Prop me up, Hinkle,’ she said. ‘I’m dying for a cup of tea.’

‘I trust madame, you are not suffering too badly,’ he said as he gently arranged her pillows, then handed her the tea.

‘It’s all right.’ She sipped the tea, then went on, ‘Tell me, what’s going on? I suppose the press have arrived?’

‘Indeed yes, madame. They are outside waiting for a statement. Mr. Winborn will be arriving this afternoon.’

‘Winborn?’ She frowned. ‘What does he want for God’s sake?’

‘Dr. Levi thought he should be here to handle the press.’

She asked the vitally important question.

‘Have they found the man who attacked me?’

‘Apparently not, madame. The Inspector is anxious to see you. He wants a description of the man. Dr. Levi has told him he must wait.’

Helga felt a surge of triumph run through her.

‘Didn’t the police see him?’

‘No, madame. They arrived too late.’

So once again the cards were falling her way! There would now no longer be a mess!

‘I’ll see the Inspector sometime this morning, Hinkle.’

‘Yes, madame.’

Helga again looked sharply at him. She was surprised that he hadn’t asked questions. How it happened? Who was the man? Then she saw there was a distressed, shocked expression on Hinkle’s face, so distressed that she put down the cup of tea.

‘Is there something wrong, Hinkle?’

He hesitated, then nodded.

‘I am afraid so, madame. Dr. Levi suggested that I should break the news to you.’

An icy chill began to crawl up Helga’s spine.

‘News? What news?’

‘It’s Mr. Rolfe, madame. I very much regret to tell you he died the night before last. Apparently, madame, he came out of the coma for a few brief moments, then his heart gave out.’

Into Helga’s mind came the scene of Jackson withdrawing the needle and then slowly pushing it into the doll’s chest. She was now so cold she began to shiver.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she said hoarsely. ‘What time the night before last?’

‘It would be about the time you were attacked, madame. This will be a terrible shock to you as it is to me. I know how both of us, madame, will miss him.’

Helga stared at the kind, distressed face and she put her hands to her eyes.

‘But you should think, madame, that it is really a happy release. He suffered so much and he was so very brave.’

Then as she began to weep, Hinkle went silently from the room, stopping Nurse Fairely from entering.

‘Madame would like a few moments to herself, nurse,’ he said in a whisper. ‘She has been so good, so worthy and so loyal to him. It is a most grievous loss to her.’

Listening to his words, Helga shuddered.

So good, so worthy, so loyal!

She again saw Herman’s contorted face and his slack mouth forming the word whore.

Burying her face in the pillow, she began to sob her heart out.

The next four hours were the worst Helga had ever lived through for they were hours of self-incrimination, remorse and self-disgust. She saw herself as she imagined others saw her. It was like looking into a three dimensional mirror and what she saw there sickened her.

When Nurse Fairely had come in, hearing Helga sobbing, Helga had screamed at her to get out and stay out.

As soon as the startled nurse had withdrawn, Helga had staggered out of bed and had locked the door, then she had returned to the bed to continue her desperate sobbing.

An hour of this left her drained and leaving the bed, she put on a wrap and had sat in a lounging chair.

There came a gentle tap on the door and Hinkle’s voice asking, ‘May I bring something, madame? A little beef tea?’

‘Just leave me alone.’ Helga had to control herself not to scream at him. ‘I’ll ring if I want anything.’

Then began the long hours of self-incrimination. So Herman is dead, she thought. You wanted him to die. You longed for him to die because you wanted to own all his money. That was all you could think about... his money! Now finally he is dead and he died hating you. After the few years you have been married to him during which time he respected you, was proud of you, trusted you, he finally died hating you.

The knowledge that he had died hating her crushed her.

Because of her infernal sex urge she had been unfaithful, but she had always been scrupulously honest with his money, and yet he had died believing she had not only been unfaithful but was no longer to be trusted with the handling of his fortune.

He had called her a whore. He had died thinking of her as a whore.

Her mind switched to what Hinkle had said: Apparently, madame, he came out of the coma for a few moments, then his heart gave out.

She saw Jackson pulling the needle out of the doll’s head and pushing it into the doll’s body. Could the needle have killed Herman? Hadn’t she stood by, doing nothing, while Jackson had murdered her husband? Why hadn’t she snatched the doll from him? Wasn’t it because she longed for Herman to die, and although she didn’t believe it could happen, had hoped it would happen?

Stop this stupid, superstitious thinking! she told herself. You know a needle couldn’t kill anyone. It’s not possible. Herman’s death was a coincidence. It must have been! There could be no other explanation.

Her mind switched back to Herman’s hatred. She thought of his letter to Winborn. Only a few days ago, she had told herself that when Herman died, she would destroy the letter.

Because he no longer trusted her, Herman had written this letter which would strip her of her V.I.P. status since she would never accept the conditions he laid down.

As I am satisfied that she has betrayed my trust... She remembered the words.

True, she thought, I did betray your trust but you never considered my feelings. All you wanted was a good looking secretary-servant. Although I was unfaithful to you I have always been honest with your money. Why couldn’t you have shown a spark of kindness, consideration and understanding and have turned a blind eye to my affairs?

For many minutes, she sat still, staring out of the window, then she came to a decision.

You may be a selfish, hard, unfaithful bitch, but you are not dishonest, she told herself.

She would not destroy the letter. She would give it to Winborn when he arrived. Whatever else she was, she wasn’t dishonest nor a cheat. To destroy the wishes of a dead man would be a despicable and utterly dishonest act.

Then into her mind came the small voice of temptation. Don’t do anything in haste, the voice said. Think what you will be giving up. Think of the power that will be yours when you control sixty million dollars. If you give that letter to Winborn, knowing you can’t live like a nun, you will have nothing and you will be faced with the task of making a new life for yourself. Think of the gossip when it becomes known that Herman has disinherited you. They will say gleefully that there is no smoke without fire. The Federal tax people will want to know what has happened to the two million dollars Archer stole. You will have to throw him to the wolves to save yourself and he will tell the world, to try to save himself, you were his mistress. Don’t give the letter to Winborn, the small voice urged. Destroy it as you were planning to do before you got this spineless feeling of guilt. No one will know except Hinkle and he is your friend. He admires you: so good, so worthy, so loyal.

For more than three hours, Helga struggled with the small voice and then when she felt utterly exhausted, the steel in her asserted itself.

‘Whatever else you are, whatever else you become,’ she said, half aloud, ‘you will not be a cheat!’

Her mind made up, she got unsteadily to her feet, rang the service bell, then unlocked the door. She crossed to the wall mirror and regarded herself. God! She looked terrible! The right side of her face was puffy and bruised. Her eyes were swollen with weeping. Her hair looked like a bird’s nest.

She crossed to the desk and sat down as a tap came on the door.

‘Come in.’

Hinkle entered and closed the door gently.

‘I want you to do something for me, Hinkle,’ she said and taking out a sheet of notepaper, she wrote:

She signed and addressed an envelope to the Manager of the Diamond Beach hotel.

‘Will you please go immediately to the Diamond Beach hotel and bring back an envelope they are keeping for me in their safe?’

‘Certainly, madame.’ Hinkle took the note, hesitated, then said, ‘May I inquire if you are still in pain, madame? Nurse Fairely is extremely worried.’

She looked at him, her eyes steely.

‘I am all right. Will you tell the police inspector I will see him when it is convenient to him?’

‘Are you sure that is wise, madame? Shouldn’t you...’

‘Please do as I say!’

‘Yes, madame.’ Hinkle flushed at her sharp tone. ‘I have had a telephone call from Mr. Winborn. He will not be arriving this evening but sometime early tomorrow. It would seem there is an airport strike that has delayed him. He sends his regrets.’

‘All right. Now please go to the hotel.’

When he left, looking upset by her curt manner, she went into the bathroom and began repairing her face. In twenty minutes she had painted out the bruise, reduced the swelling of her eyes and fixed her hair. She was lighting a cigarette when Chief Inspector Harrison arrived.

Harrison was a tall burly man who could have been Frank Gritten’s brother. He had the same steely blue eyes and the same gentle voice.

He began by offering his sincere condolences but Helga cut him short.

‘Thank you, Inspector. I am anxious to rest. I understand you want a description of the man who attacked me. He was coloured: tall, thin, middle aged and he wore a yellow and red handkerchief around his head, a dirty white shirt, dark trousers and was bare footed. Is there anything else you want to know?’

Startled at being so hustled, Harrison stared blankly at her.

‘You haven’t seen this man before, madame?’

‘No.’

‘Is there anything missing?’

Why hadn’t she thought to look to see if Jackson had taken the money? Helga was angry with herself for not checking.

‘I don’t think so. This is a hired villa. I have only my jewels and some money... nothing else of value.’ She got to her feet and going to the closet, she checked her jewel box, then satisfied, she went to her bag lying on the dressing table. The eight thousand dollars was missing! With an effort, she kept her face expressionless. Snapping the bag shut, she said, ‘No, there’s nothing missing. It was fortunate I was up here. I heard movements, went to the head of the stairs and saw this man. He saw me and came bounding up the stairs. I locked myself in and I called the police. He broke in and tried to stop me telephoning. I suppose he became frightened and ran away.’

Harrison regarded her thoughtfully.

‘It would seem so, madame.’

‘Is that all?’ she asked impatiently.

‘Not quite all. What can you tell me about a doll we found downstairs?’

She had completely forgotten about the doll! Again her steel control served her well.

‘Doll? I know nothing about a doll. What do you mean?’ She crushed out her cigarette.

‘Excuse me a moment.’ Harrison went to the door. He spoke to someone outside, then returned, carrying Rolfe’s effigy.

‘This doll, madame.’

Helga forced herself to look at the doll.

‘I’ve never seen it before.’ She looked more closely, then shrank back, stifling a gasp, but she was careful not to overplay the scene. ‘It... it resembles my husband.’

‘Yes, madame. I am sorry to raise such a painful.’

‘This intruder must have brought it with him. Probably, he wanted to sell it to me,’ Helga said quickly. ‘There can be no other explanation.’

‘Unfortunately there is, madame. You may have heard of this Voodoo cult.’

‘At this moment, I am not interested in cults,’ Helga broke in, steel in her voice. ‘If that is all, then I would be glad if you would go. My head is tormenting me.’

Harrison hesitated. He was very conscious that he was facing a woman now worth at least sixty million dollars and that kind of money drew a lot of water. He was also aware that she had just lost her husband and had been attacked. If he continued to question her she could complain and his superiors could come down on him like a ton of concrete. He decided to play safe.

‘Certainly, madame. I will see you are not bothered again. As nothing has been stolen...’ He began to move to the door. ‘You can be sure we will hunt for this man.’

‘I am sure you will,’ Helga said and turned away.

When he had gone, she sat down and drew in a deep breath. That had gone off better than she could have hoped. So Jackson had found and taken the money. That must mean he was miles away by now. The mess she had feared was now disappearing under the rug. The cards had begun to fall her way again!

Twenty minutes later, Hinkle appeared with a large, sealed envelope.

‘Is that what you wanted, madame?’

Helga slit open the envelope, glanced inside and saw the red folder.

‘Yes, thank you, Hinkle.’ She looked directly at him. ‘I suppose you have guessed what this is?’

‘I would rather not be told, madame,’ Hinkle said, his face expressionless. ‘I hesitate to offer advice, but may I suggest the contents of this envelope should be destroyed.’

She stared at him and again the small voice urged: go on, destroy it! Think what you have to lose! Even Hinkle is telling you to do it. Doesn’t that salve your stupid conscience?

‘Thank you, Hinkle. You are a good friend.’

‘I suggest a light meal would be sensible, madame. One thinks so much better when fortified. Perhaps a dozen oysters?’

She shook her head.

‘I feel like a big steak. I haven’t eaten for two days!’

His face lit up.

‘Certainly, madame. I will cook it myself. Also a little caviar with toast.’

As soon as he had gone, Helga decided to dress. Looking at her watch, she saw the time was 14.45. She hated slopping around in a wrap.

Half an hour later, when Hinkle pushed in the service trolley, she was wearing a white dress with a broad black leather belt around her slim waist and he regarded her with admiring approval.

‘If I may say so, madame, you are a remarkable person.’

She smiled at him.

‘Thank you, Hinkle. At times I believe that myself. You didn’t think...’ Then she stopped, seeing the cocktail shaker. ‘Of course you did... bless you.’

‘I fear Dr. Levi wouldn’t approve, madame, but in times of stress, a little alcohol is beneficial.’

After she had finished the meal and had drunk two vodka-martinis, she found to her surprise that her head no longer ached.

As she lit a cigarette, she asked, ‘What are the arrangements?’ She couldn’t bring herself to say “funeral,” but Hinkle knew what she meant.

‘I have attended to all that, madame. The service will be at the Church of Christ in Paradise City at three o’clock the day after tomorrow. Dr. Levi hopes you will be able to fly home in the executive plane tomorrow afternoon with Mr. Winborn.’

‘It is not going to be a big affair?’ she asked suddenly anxious.

‘No, madame. Later, of course there will be a memorial service, but for the private service, just you, Mr. Winborn, the staff and Miss Sheila.’

Helga stiffened.

‘Miss Sheila?’

‘Yes, madame. She has arrived. I saw her this morning. She would like to meet you. If it would be convenient she would come here at six o’clock.’

Helga hesitated.

She thought of the redheaded girl and she could hear again those cruel words: When a middle-aged woman gets hot pants for a boy young enough to be her son, cold water helps.

Inwardly, she flinched.

Then she remembered the sacrifice she was going to make by giving Winborn the letter. Because she refused to cheat, this girl, now living rough, would suddenly become a millionairess! Surely this girl would admire her for her sacrifice and regret what she had said.

‘Of course, Hinkle. I must see her.’

‘Very well, madame.’ Hinkle positively beamed. ‘If you feel strong enough, it is quite safe for you to come downstairs and enjoy the sun. With the assistance of the police I have got rid of the press. The Inspector was good enough to leave a couple of men on guard to see you are not bothered. Dr. Levi will be coming in half an hour.’

‘All right, Hinkle. I am so grateful for what you have done and are doing.’

With a happy expression on his fat face, Hinkle wheeled the trolley from the room.

Nervous and restless, Helga sat on the terrace under a sun umbrella. She kept looking at her watch. The time was 17.50. In ten more minutes the girl who called herself Terry Shields would arrive.

Dr. Levi had come and gone. He had offered tranquillizers, had warned her not to exert herself, had offered condolences and as Helga didn’t encourage him, he finally bowed himself out.

Nurse Fairely also took her leave. Kind as she was, Helga was glad to see her go.

Now, she was alone except for Hinkle who she could hear pottering around in the kitchen, probably preparing something for dinner. She thought of Winborn. He would be arriving the following morning. Once he had read Herman’s letter, his claws would be unsheathed, but she was beyond caring.

The sound of a discreet cough made her look around. Hinkle was standing in the doorway.

‘Miss Sheila, madame,’ he said and stood aside to let Terry pass around him, then he moved out of sight.

Helga watched the girl come across the patio with quick, purposeful strides. She was wearing a white T-shirt and dark blue jeans. Her red-gold hair glittered in the sun. She walked straight up to Helga and looked down at her.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, and Helga was surprised at the concern in her voice.

‘I’ve got over it, thank you. Won’t you sit down?’

Terry pulled up a chair and sat down, her knees together, her slim hands in her lap.

‘I owe you an apology and an explanation,’ she said, looking directly at Helga. ‘My exit line when we last met was indefensible. All I can say is I regret saying it and hope you don’t hate me for it. You see, Dick means a lot to me and when my men are threatened, I behave like an ill-mannered bitch.’

Taken aback, Helga said, ‘You should never regret telling the truth. So Dick means a lot to you?’

‘Yes. He intrigues me. I see a big future for him. I am re-educating him.’

‘Are you? Will he appreciate that?’

‘He needs to be re-educated. He realizes he is very mixed up. So many people are. I have explained that to him. It is not a matter of liking or appreciating. People don’t like changes, but he accepts he must be re-educated. I intend to take him back to Paris with me. He will make a tremendous impact once he gets there.’

What the hell is all this? Helga asked herself, feeling bewildered.

‘Impact?’ she asked. ‘In what way?’

‘By his powers. He is a genuine Voodoo doctor.’

Helga stiffened.

‘A Voodoo doctor? Surely you don’t believe in that ridiculous cult?’

‘It is only those who know absolutely nothing about Voodoo who talk like that,’ Terry said quietly. ‘There is good and evil Voodoo. Dick had an evil master. I’m going to teach him to do good with his powers.’

‘I suppose you know he made an obscene effigy of your father?’

Terry nodded.

‘Yes, but it wasn’t obscene. He made it because you were forcing him to leave here. It was wrong, of course, but he was desperate and you mustn’t forget he is young and very immature.’

‘You really believe he put your father in a coma?’

‘Of course.’

Helga suppressed a shudder.

‘And you know he began to make a doll resembling me?’

‘Yes, but I stopped that,’ Terry said crisply. ‘That is what I mean about evil Voodoo. I have got him over that now. In Paris he will have a large following. In time he may be like the Guru with his Rolls Royce. People will flock to him once he has been re-educated.’

Helga felt bewildered. She shifted to more familiar ground.

‘All this will cost money, won’t it?’

Terry shrugged.

‘Oh, money will come. Once Dick convinces people he is genuine, money will roll in.’

‘But won’t you need money to get him to Paris?’

‘That’s no problem. After I had talked to him, he sold his bike to some rich creep who couldn’t wait six months for the next delivery. He got seven thousand dollars for it. No, money isn’t important. The important thing is to keep him thinking on the right lines and to make sure he uses his powers in the right way.’

‘You do realize he has done an evil thing and that he is also a thief?’

Terry smiled.

‘But no longer.’

‘Are you quite sure people will need a boy like Dick?’

‘Of course, but why discuss it? I can see you don’t understand. I suppose I am an oddball but I like influencing people. I like putting ideas into their minds. Quite often those ideas grow rewardingly.’

Again Helga shifted ground.

‘Why did you come to Nassau?’

Terry looked directly at her.

‘I wanted a close-up of you. I was curious to see the woman my father married.’

‘I can understand that. I hope you are now satisfied.’

‘Yes, I am. Frankly, I was sorry for you, but not now. I am pleased that after putting up with my father for what must have seemed an interminable time, you have finally won through.’

Helga stared at her.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You love all the trappings that go with money, don’t you? There are very few women who could take on the role of Mrs. Herman Rolfe as well as you do. If anyone deserves my father’s money and who can handle it as it should be handled, it’s you. You’ve worked hard enough.’

This was so unexpected that Helga had to look away. Finally, steadying her voice, she said, ‘Yes, I have worked for it, but I have also cheated. I have something here for you to read.’

She drew the red folder from under her cushion and handed it to Terry.

The girl looked sharply at her, then opened the folder and took out Rolfe’s letter.

‘You want me to read this?’

‘Yes, please.’

Helga got to her feet and wandered down to the swimming pool. Well, this is it, she thought, I’ve done the correct thing. I shall regret it, but at least, I can wear a brass halo.

After a while, she came back and sat down. Terry had put the red folder on the table.

They looked at each other.

‘Congratulations,’ Helga said. ‘You can now buy your Guru a Rolls without the support of the people.’

‘This is old hat.’ Terry flicked the red folder. ‘Dick read it and told me about it. That was when he was so un-educated he even suggested we married and he would get rid of you and share all my father’s money with me.’ She laughed. ‘I soon put that right.’

Helga stared at her.

‘So he was going to be a murderer as well as a thief and a blackmailer.’

‘That’s right. He is a primitive.’ Terry smiled, shaking her head. ‘That’s why I find him so intriguing. All that is in the past.’

Helga gave up.

‘Well, anyway, you are now a millionairess. How does it feel?’

Terry again shook her head.

‘I am disappointed in you. I was under the impression you were highly intelligent. I wouldn’t touch a dime of my father’s money. If I could earn a million it just might give me a kick, but not otherwise.’ She smiled. ‘It would be fun to try, but of course, it will never happen. No. I don’t want the million.’

Regarding her, Helga realized with a sense of shock this girl meant what she was saying.

‘If you don’t want the money now, you may later. I will ask Winborn to put it in trust for you.’

‘You will do nothing of the kind! Now listen to me!’ Terry’s eyes had turned angry. ‘You were only married to my father for a few years. I had to live with him for twenty years. I loathed him. He was a mean, narrow-minded, soulless machine with a sadistic streak in him that made him as ruthless as a dictator! He treated my mother shamefully. He hadn’t a spark of kindness nor understanding in him. He made me sick to my stomach and I walked out on him as soon as my mother died. She was one of the old-fashioned fools who stick to their men no matter how they are treated. I call myself Terry Shields because I can’t stand the sound of his name. I repeat: I would rather starve to death than take a dime of his rotten money!’

Shocked, Helga stared at her.

‘But you can’t...’

‘Hear me out!’ Terry’s voice rose. ‘I am only going to his funeral because I don’t want to hurt Hinkle. He imagines in his kind, out-of-this-world way that I was fond of my father. Without Hinkle I don’t think my mother nor I would have been able to endure the misery of living with Herman Rolfe. From what you have said, it seems you intend to give this letter to Winborn. If you do, then I am really and truly disappointed in you. This letter was written by a sadistic-ego-maniac! If you tell me you couldn’t live with your conscience if you didn’t obey his mean death wish, then I say you are trying to make a martyr of yourself and I assure you, you don’t fit the role of a martyr. Remember this: the dead can’t care. It is the living who matter.’ She got to her feet. ‘I hope very soon to be reading about the fabulous Mrs. Herman Rolfe doing fabulous things and having the time of her life.’ She smiled: a wide, friendly smile. ‘See you in church,’ and turning, she walked across the patio and down to the beach.

Motionless, Helga watched her until she was out of sight.

‘I overheard the last part of the conversation, madame,’ Hinkle said as he came forward with a cocktail shaker and a glass on a tray. ‘As I have already observed: a remarkable young person with character.’ He placed the tray on the table and then poured the drink.

As Helga watched him, he picked up the red folder.

‘As you won’t be needing this, madame,’ he said smoothly, ‘I suggest I consign it to the incinerator.’

Helga reached for the drink.

‘Your suggestions are always sound, Hinkle.’

‘I like to think so, madame.’ He paused. ‘Perhaps an omelette for dinner?’

‘That would be lovely.’

She watched him walk away, carrying the red folder and she relaxed back in her chair.

At last the magic key was hers!