You Find Him, I'll Fix Him

I

In the brief second before the arm tightened on my throat, cutting the air from my lungs, I realized this man, probably the one who they called Harry, was as strong, if not stronger, than I was. Already I was fighting for breath, and my lungs felt as if they were bursting. I couldn’t get at him, for he was bending me back, his knees grinding into my spine. There was only one way out of a hold like this: I let myself go limp. My legs buckled and I collapsed on my knees. As I did so I managed to arch my back and bring him forward.

I heard him give a muffled curse, and his grip on my throat tightened viciously. I made a desperate effort to heave him over my head, but he was too heavy. Instead, my heave unbalanced us both. My feet slipped on the wet steps and together we rolled into the sea.

The shock of landing in the water loosened his hold. I caught hold of his wrist and peeled his arm off my throat, then I twisted around so that I faced him and drove my hand under his chin, sending him over on his back. I broke free of him and rose to the surface gasping.

My one fear was that he would shout for help. Whatever happened those in the villa mustn’t know I had been up there.

He bobbed up within three yards of me. I saw him before he could shake the water out of his eyes. I dived under him, caught hold of one of his feet and dragged him down.

He kicked so violently that I had to let go of him. We both came to the surface together. I could just see his staring eyes and snarling mouth. He came at me and lifted his right hand out of the water. I saw a flash of steel. I threw myself sideways. The knife missed me by inches. I dived, came around in a tight circle, spotted the dark form of his body within reach and grabbed him around his waist, pulling him under the water. My left hand groped and found his right wrist.

He fought like a madman, and it was as much as I could do to hold him. I held him down as long as I could, then, when my own lungs were at bursting point, I let go of him and kicked my way up to the surface. He took four or five seconds longer to break surface, and when he did come up, I could see by his feeble strokes that he was on his last legs.

He had lost the knife, and as he tried desperately to get away from me, he gave a croaking shout.

I sprinted after him and, putting my hand between his shoulders, I shoved him under again. I dived after him, but now he was offering practically no resistance, and when we came to the surface once more he was done. He would have sunk if I hadn’t grabbed him by his collar and held him up. His head lolled on his shoulders and I couldn’t hear him breathe. I was only a few yards from the moored rowing-boat. I towed him over to it, and heaved him in, nearly upsetting the boat as I did so. I got in after him and knelt beside him. As he seemed in a bad way, I rolled him over on to his face so the water he had swallowed could drain out of him, then I untied the mooring line, got the oars out and began to row as hard and as fast as I could towards Sorrento.

I must have got about half-way — I had lost the lights of the villa — when Harry stirred and started to mumble. I wasn’t going to give him a chance to recover. I didn’t fancy a fight with him in this small boat. I hurriedly shipped oars, then, scrambling over the other rowing seat, I reached him as he slowly hauled himself into a sitting position.

He lifted his head and his chin made a perfect target. I hung a right on the point of his jaw that took the skin off my knuckles. He went over backwards as if he had been shot, and then, as his head cracked on the bottom of the boat, he went limp.

I scrambled back to the oars and began to row again. He didn’t begin to move until I reached Sorrento harbour.

My boatman was waiting for me, and his eyes bulged out when he saw I wasn’t in his boat He nearly dropped in his tracks as I caught hold of Harry and heaved him on to the beach. The movement brought Harry around, and he slowly hauled himself upright. I stepped up to him and brushing his feeble left lead aside, I hung another bone bender on his jaw, sending him flat on his back at the boatman’s feet.

“Get a policeman!” I said. “Never mind about your boat. Get a policeman, quick!”

A policeman, who must have been standing in the shadows of the car-park, came up. I was lucky that he didn’t argue as they usually do. He listened to what I told him. Frank Setti’s name seemed to mean something to him. He turned to the boatman and told him to hold his tongue, put handcuffs on Harry, requisitioned a car and drove Harry and I to the police station.

I was lucky too that Grandi was still on duty. He stared blankly at me as I came into his office, naked, except for a pair of swimming trunks. When I told him I had found Frank Setti and had got one of Setti’s men, he came alive.

I told him there was a consignment of dope at the villa, and if he moved fast he would have all the evidence he needed for an arrest. He got on the telephone to Rome headquarters and had a quick talk with the head of the Narcotic Squad. He got orders to go ahead and raid the villa.

As he made for the door, I said, “Watch out. There’s five men out there, and they’re tough and dangerous.”

He gave me a sour smile.

“I can be tough and dangerous too.”

He went out and I heard him shouting orders. A little later a policeman came in and showed me where I could have a hot shower. He also gave me a pair of flannel slacks and a sweater.

By the time I was dressed, Grandi had gone down to the beach where he was to await reinforcements from Naples. I decided I would have time to telephone Maxwell before the raid began.

I got Maxwell on the line. I told him that within an hour Frank Setti would be arrested, and warned him to stand by for details. I said I was going down right away to the beach where the police were embarking for Setti’s villa.

Maxwell said he would warn New York what was coming, and would wait for me to call back.

I then took a taxi down to the harbour.

Grandi with thirty carabiniere, armed to the teeth, were piling into three motor-boats. When I suggested I should go with them, Grandi waved me away.

They went roaring off into the darkness, leaving me with my boatman who, by now, was tearing his hair and yelling for his boat.

I said I would show him where I had left it if he could find a motor-boat to take us there. After some argument, he persuaded one of his friends to take us, and we set off.

By the time we had picked up the rowing-boat from the beach where I had left it, Grandi and his men had landed at Setti’s villa. I kept my ears pricked for the sound of shooting but I heard nothing.

I managed to persuade the boatman to hang around just outside Setti’s harbour. The moon had now come up, and I could see the three police boats in the harbour.

After a twenty-minute wait, I saw a bunch of men come along the harbour wall and get into the boats. There was a girl with them and I guessed it was Myra.

I told the boatman to get back to Sorrento, and was waiting on the beach when Grandi and his men and prisoners landed. He had got them all.

While they were being hustled into the waiting police van, I crossed over to where Grandi was standing.

“Did you get the consignment of drugs?”

“Yes, I got it all right.”

“No trouble?”

He shook his head.

“I didn’t give them a chance to make trouble.”

“I want to be kept out of this. I’ve got to get back to Rome right away. You won’t need me, will you?”

“No. But you will be down next Monday for the inquest?”

“I’ll be down.”

Leaving him, I got into my car and drove back to the hotel. I called Maxwell and gave him the details of Setti’s arrest. I told him to let Matthews of the Associated Press have the story too. He said he would get a cable off to New York right away and then call Matthews.

“I’m coming back to-night,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He asked if I didn’t think I should stay on in Naples and cover the case when Setti came up in court.

He was right of course, but I had Carlo on my mind. I didn’t know how Carlo was going to react when he heard Setti had been arrested and the consignment of drugs he was waiting for had been seized. I had to convince him I had nothing to do with it or he would fix me.

“He won’t come before a court for a couple of days. I’ve things to do in Rome.”

“Well, okay, please yourself. I’ll be seeing you.”

I said I would be seeing him.

II

Back in Rome around nine o’clock the following morning, and still in bed, I called Maxwell again.

He said he had had a call from New York for more details of Setti’s life in Italy, and could I do anything about it?

I said it might be an idea if he went to Naples instead of me.

“Yeah, I want to,” he said, “but Gina’s not in to-day. She’s fooling around with the stuff at Helen’s apartment. I can’t leave the office without someone to handle the telephone calls.”

“Isn’t she there now?”

“She wanted the day off. She will be at Helen’s apartment around ten o’clock. She said the old man wanted the place cleared.

“That’s what he does want. Okay. I’ll go over there and send hex back. Then you can get off.”

“I should have thought you would have wanted to have handled this yourself,” Maxwell said. “It’s the biggest story in years.”

“As you’re taking over the Rome office,” I said, “this is now your story. I’ll get Gina back to you by half-past eleven. There’s a plane to Naples at two o’clock. You’d better get yourself a reservation.”

He said he would do that.

I got out of bed, took a shower, shaved and dressed, then went down to the garage. I got to Helen’s apartment and rang the bell. Gina opened the door.

“Why, hello, Ed,” she said. Her smile was a little uncertain.”

“Hello, there,” I said, and, following her into the lounge, I went on, “How are you getting on here?”

“I’m packing. There’s so much to clear. I’ll be through in about half an hour.”

“Have you got rid of it all?”

“Yes.” She sat on the arm of a chair and looked at me. “What’s been happening, Ed?”

I dropped into an easy-chair.

“Plenty.” I went on to tell her about the capture of Setti. “Maxwell wants to get down to Naples. He’s waiting now for you to relieve him. You’d better get off, Gina. I can handle what you haven’t finished here.”

“He’ll have to catch the two o’clock plane, so there’s plenty of time,” Gina said firmly. “Ed, how did you know that Setti was in this villa?”

I looked at her.

“Why should you worry how I knew?”

“I’m asking you, Ed,” she said. “It’s too good to be true. You must see that. Every policeman in Italy has been looking for Setti. Then you find him. How did you know he was there? If I don’t ask you, someone else will.”

I could see the sense in that. Now she had put the question, I was surprised that Grandi hadn’t asked me.

“I guess you’re right,” I said. “Well, it’s a long story.”

“I want to hear it. You have deliberately kept away from me. Please, don’t deny it. You have. You’re involved somehow in this business, aren’t you? You knew she was falling herself Mrs. Douglas Sherrard. There’s something wrong somewhere. I’m worried. You must tell me.”

“You’ve got to keep clear of it,” I said. “Don’t ask questions. Helen was murdered. I didn’t kill her, but the police have an idea that I did. You must see I can’t tell you anything without getting you involved.”

Her small hands turned into fists.

“Do you think I care about that?” she said. “I want to know. Ed, please. What kind of trouble are you in?”

“I’m in a lot of trouble. But I can’t tell you the details. You’ve got to keep clear of it, Gina.”

“Did that girl mean anything to you?”

I hesitated.

“At one time I think she did, but not when I found out what she really was. I guess I was acting like a…”

“Don’t say it. I know how it was. Tell me what happened, Ed.”

“Forget it!” I got to my feet and wandered over to the window. “I stuck my neck out, and now I’ve got to take what’s coming.”

“Are you scared il Signor Chalmers will find out?”

“I’ve got beyond that. He’s offered me the foreign desk. When he knows what I’ve been up to, I won’t get it. The foreign desk is important to me, Gina.”

“You’ll leave Rome?”

“That was the idea, but it looks now as if I won’t have a job at all.”

There was such a sharp silence that I turned and looked at her. She had lost colour and her eyes were full of unshed tears.

“Don’t look like that, Gina. The end of the world hasn’t come.”

“Not to you perhaps.”

I realized for the first time since I had known her what she really meant to me. I went over to her. Putting my hands on her hips, I pulled her to me.

“Okay, I admit it. I’m in a hell of a mess. It’s my own stupid fault. You’ve got to keep clear of it. If you know too much, they could hang an accessory rap on you.”

“For heaven’s sake, Ed,” she said, beginning to cry. “Do you think I care? It’s you I care about.”

My hands slid around her back. She raised her face, glistening with tears, and my lips came down on hers. We stood like that for a long moment, then I pushed her back.

“This isn’t the way,” I said. “I guess I must have been crazy to have chased after that little tramp. Now I’ve got to take what’s coming to me. Keep clear of me, Gina. You must keep clear of me.”

Her fingers moved up into my hair and she smiled at me.

“I can help you. I know I can. Do you want me to?”

“I want you to keep clear of it.”

“Ed, do you love me a little? Do I mean anything to you?”

“I guess you do. I’ve taken a long time to find that out, haven’t I?” I pulled her to me. “But that’s beside the point, Gina. I’ll need a lot of luck to beat this rap. Carlotti is more or less convinced that I’m the guy he’s looking for.”

“Won’t you tell me what really happened? Right from the beginning?”

I sat down and told her. I gave her the whole story. I didn’t hold a thing back.

She sat listening, her face pale, her lips parted, and when I had finished, she drew in a long, slow breath.

“Oh, darling, it’s been dreadful for you!”

“It’s been bad, but I asked for it. If I could only pin Helen’s death on Carlo I would be in the clear. I just can’t see how I’m going to do it”

“You must tell Carlotti the whole story just as you’ve told it to me. It rings true. He’ll understand. You must tell him.”

I shook my head.

“There’s too much evidence against me. I should have told him before. Hell only think my nerve’s cracked and I’m trying to get out of it. He’ll arrest me, and then I won’t be able to get after Carlo. I’ve got to fix Carlo myself if that’s possible.”

“No, please, Ed. You must tell him. I am sure it’s the only thing to do.”

“Well, I’ll think about it. I’m not going to tell him yet.”

“Ed! I’ve suddenly thought of something,” Gina said, jumping to her feet. “Yesterday while I was here the postman brought a carton of film addressed to Helen.”

I stared at her.

“A carton of film!”

“Yes. She must have sent it to be processed.”

I was aware that my heart was beginning to thump painfully. “Have you got it?”

She opened her handbag and took out a yellow carton.

“It may be a film she took in Sorrento,” she said, and held out the carton to me.

As I reached for it, the door swung open. We both turned quickly.

Carlo stood in the doorway, his thick lips parted in a grin.

“I’ll have that,” he said. “I’ve been waiting days for that damn thing to turn up. Give it here!”

III

Gina’s reflexes worked a lot faster than mine. She must have recognized Carlo from my description the moment she saw him. She whipped the canon into her bag and was on her feet by the time Carlo was half-way across the lounge.

She spun on her heel and made a dash for the bedroom door.

Snarling Carlo jumped forward, his thick fingers reaching for her. As he passed me, I shot out my foot and hooked his leg from under him. He sprawled headlong, his fingers closing on Gina’s blouse. She gave a frantic twist of her body. The thin material tore from her shoulder and she broke free. She didn’t attempt to take the longer way around the room to the front door. She dashed into the bedroom, slammed the door, and I heard the key turn.

The apartment was on the fourth floor. There was no escape from the bedroom, but at least the door was solid. Carlo would have a job to break it down.

All this flashed through my mind as I heaved myself out of the chair I was sitting in.

Carlo was still sprawled on the floor, cursing. I didn’t make the mistake of tangling with him. I jumped across the room to the fireplace and snatched up a heavy steel poker. He was on his feet as I turned.

We faced each other.

He crouched, his big hands held out before him, his thick fingers hooked. There was an expression on his face that made him look like something out of the jungle.

“Okay, you dirty double-crosser,” he said softly. “Now you’re really going to get it.”

I waited for him.

He began to move slowly forward, circling a little to my left, his black eyes vicious and intent. I turned slightly, set for his rush, the poker in readiness. I knew I could stop him if I landed one good smash on his head.

But I underestimated his speed. I knew he was fast, but I didn’t realize just how fast he could be until he suddenly dived for my knees.

His shoulder crashed against my thighs as I brought down the poker which landed across his shoulders, missing his head. I felt as if a house had fallen on me. We went down together with a thump that rocked the room.

I let go of the poker and drove my fist into his face. I couldn’t get much weight behind the punch, but it sent his head back. I aimed another punch at his throat, but my fist sailed past his head as he twisted aside. He caught me on the side of my neck with a clubbing punch that dazed me.

I got my hand under his chin and heaved him off me. He swung a punch at my head. I blocked it with my right arm, kicked him in the chest and sent him crashing against the settee that shot across the room, mowing down an occasional table and a standard lamp.

I was on my feet in time to meet his rush. We collided like a couple of fighting bulls. I hung a jolting right on the side of his jaw and took a thump in the ribs, that turned me sick.

He backed away; his face contorted with savage rage. He showed his teeth in a snarling grimace. I steadied myself and waited for him. As he came in, I shoved my left into his face, jolting his head back. I jumped away as he countered with a punch that swished past my jaw, bringing him forward. I hooked him on the side of his head, catching him too high up to damage him. He crowded me, bashing my ribs with four short-arm jolts that thumped the breath out of me. I broke away from him, jumped behind an armchair, and as he came at me, I shoved the chair at him, spoiling his rush.

Punch for punch, I knew he was too good for me. He hit with the force of a steam hammer, and every time he caught me, I weakened.

I began to back away. He moved forward, blood trickling down his chin from a cut lip. As he came within reach, I shot out my left. My fist caught him on the nose, but it didn’t stop him. He swung at me. His fist came over my shoulder and exploded against my ear. It was a hell of a punch, and I felt my knees sag. I threw up my hands to protect my jaw and took another punch to the body. I went down.

I expected him to finish me, but he was too anxious to get at Gina. He left me and charged across the room. He took a flying kick at the bedroom door; his foot landing against the lock. The door split, but the lock held.

From inside the room I heard the crash of breaking glass and then the sound of Gina’s screaming out of the broken window at the top of her voice.

Somehow I got to my feet. My legs felt like rubber sticks. I reeled forward as he set himself for another kick at the lock. I flung my arm around his neck and dragged him over backwards. I got a lock on his throat. But it was like holding on to a wild cat. He was much too strong for me. He dragged my arm from his throat, drove his elbow into my body, turned, and his fingers closed around my throat. I got my hand under his chin and exerted pressure. For a long moment we remained motionless; his fingers digging into my throat; my hand slowly wedging his head back. My hold hurt him more than his hurt me and he let go, heaved backwards, scrambled to his feet as I got up on to my knees.

He set himself and swung a punch. I saw it coming, but I was too far gone to get out of its way. Lights exploded before my eyes and I went down.

I remained out for maybe three or four seconds. The sound of the bedroom door crashing open brought me round. I heard a wild scream and I knew he had got to Gina.

I staggered up. Near me, on the floor, was the poker. My fingers closed around it. I staggered across the room and into the bedroom.

Carlo had Gina flat on her back across the bed. One of his big hands gripped her throat. He knelt over her. He was shouting: “Where is it? Come on! Give it to me!”

I swung the poker. He half-turned, but he was a shade too late. The poker came down on top of his head. His hand slid off Gina’s throat. He supped sideways. I hit him again. He spread out on the floor.

I dropped the poker, stepped over him and leaned over Gina.

“Did he hurt you?”

She looked up at me, her face white. She tried to smile.

“He didn’t get it, Ed,” she gasped, then, turning her head, she began to cry.

“What’s going on here?” a voice demanded at the door.

I looked over my shoulder. Two policemen stood in the doorway; one of them had a pistol in his hand.

“Not much right now,” I said, making an effort to keep upright “This guy broke in here and we had a free-for-all. I’m Ed Dawson of the Western Telegraph. Lieutenant Carlotti knows me.”

At Carlotti’s name, the policemen’s faces brightened.

“Do you want to charge this man?”

“You bet I do. Get him out of here, will you? I’ll have a clean up and then I’ll come down to the station.”

One of the policemen bent over Carlo. He caught hold of his collar and dragged him upright.

I had already learned the danger of getting close to Carlo and I started to shout a warning.

Carlo came to life. His right fist shot out and connected with the policeman’s jaw, sending him crashing into the other policeman.

Carlo came to his feet. He gave me a back-hand slap across the face that flattened me on the bed, then he dived out of the room.

The policeman with the gun in his hand recovered his balance, swung around, lifted his gun and fired.

I saw Carlo stagger, but he reached the front door as the policeman fired again.

Carlo dropped on hands and knees. He turned his head, his face a savage mask of pain and fury. Somehow, he hauled himself to his feet and took three tottering steps out on to the landing and stood swaying at the head of the stairs.

The policeman moved slowly towards him.

Carlo looked past him at me. His face twisted into a ghastly attempt at a grin, then his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled. He toppled backwards down the stairs, and landed on the floor below with a crash that shook the building.

IV

Forty minutes later, I was back in my apartment, fixing my bruises. I had dropped Gina off at her apartment and had telephoned Maxwell to hold everything until I had time to contact him again. The police had told mc that Carlo was still alive, but there was no hope for him. They said he would the within an hour or so. They had rushed him to hospital.

I had just finished putting a strip of plaster over a cut above my eye when the front-door bell rang. It was Carlotti.

“Manchini is asking for you,” he said. “He’s going fast. I have a car outside. Will you come?”

I followed him down to where the police car was waiting. While we were driving to the hospital, Carlotti said, “You seem to be having some excitement. Grandi telephoned me that it was you who put him on to Setti’s hide-out.”

“I’ve had too much excitement.”

He gave me a thoughtful stare.

“After you have talked with Manchini, I want to have a talk with you.”

Here it comes, I thought, and told him that I was at his disposal. Nothing more was said until we reached the hospital. Then Cariotti said, “I hope he’s still alive. He was in a bad way when I left him.”

We were taken immediately to a private ward where Carlo lay, guarded by two detectives. He was still alive, and as we came into the room he opened his eyes and gave me a twisted grin. “Hello, pally,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What is it?” I asked, standing over him.

“Get these coppers out of here. I want to talk to you alone.”

“You talk in front of me or not at all,” Carlotti said.

Carlo looked at him.

“Don’t be a sucker, copper. If you want to know how Helen Chalmers died, you’ll get out of here and take these two flat-feet with you. I want to talk to my pal first. Then I’ll have something for you.”

Carlotti hesitated, then shrugged.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” he said and, beckoning to the two detectives, he went out. They followed him and closed the door.

Carlo looked at me.

“You’ve got guts, pally. I like the way you fight. I’m going to put you in the clear. I’m going to tell them it was me who killed Helen. They can’t do anything to me now. I’m not going to last much longer. If I tell them I did it, will you do me a favour?”

“If I can.”

“Get rid of that film, pally.” A spasm of pain ran through him and he shut his eyes. Then, opening his eyes, he grinned savagely. “I’m getting to be a sissy, aren’t I?” he said. “Will you give me your word you won’t show that film to anyone? It’s important to me, pally.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” I said. “The police must see it if it is anything to do with Helen’s death.”

“I’m going to tell them I killed her. The case will be closed,” Carlo said. Every word made him sweat. “Look at the film yourself. You’ll see what I mean after you’ve looked at it. It’s not evidence. When you’ve seen it, destroy it. Will you do that?”

“Okay. If I’m satisfied that it isn’t evidence, I’ll destroy it.”

“You’ll give me your word?”

“Yes, but I must be sure it isn’t evidence.”

He managed to grin.

“Oksy, shoot them in. I’ll give them a confession — the full treatment.”

“So long, Carlo,” I said and gripped his hand.

“So long, pally. I was a sucker to involve you in this. I didn’t think you had so much on the ball. Get them in here and hurry.”

I went out and told Carlotti Manchini wanted him. He and the two detectives went into the room and closed the door. I walked down the passage to the entrance hall. I waited there for Carlotti.

Twenty minutes later, he came into the hall.

“He’s gone,” he said soberly. “Suppose we go to your apartment? I want to talk to you.”

Well, at least, he wasn’t taking me to the police station. We drove in silence to my apartment.

“You might like a drink?” I said as soon as we were in ray lounge.

“I’ll have a campari,” Cariotti said.

As I knew he never drank on duty, I felt easier in my mind. I fixed a campari and a whisky and soda for myself and we sat down.

“Well, now,” he said. “Manchini has given me a signed confession that he killed la Signorina Chalmers. I have reason to believe that you were also at the villa at the time of her death. You have been identified by two witnesses. I should like your explanation.”

I didn’t hesitate. I gave him the whole story without holding a thing back. The only thing I didn’t tell him was that June Chalmers had hired Sarti to watch Helen. I said I thought Sarti’s client had been Chalmers himself.

Carlotti listened without interrupting me. When I had finally finished, he stared at me for a long moment before saying, “I think you have behaved very foolishly, signor.”

It was such an anticlimax that I grinned at him.

“I guess I have, but if you bad been in my place, I think you would have done the same. As it is, I’ve lost my new job. All this is bound to come out at the inquest.”

Carlotti stroked his nose.

“Not necessarily,” he said. “Manchini said that he was the man la signorina planned to spend a month with at the villa. I see no reason why I shouldn’t accept that story. After all, you gave us the information about Setti and you have always been helpful in the past. I am satisfied that your story is true. I don’t see why you should be penalized. Manchini said he caught la signorina taking a film of Setti’s villa. Apparently, Setti was on the terrace. Manchini realized that this film could be used as a blackmail weapon against Setti. He got the camera from la signorina and ripped out the film. To teach her a lesson, so he said, he slapped her. She jumped back and fell over the cliff. This explanation will satisfy the coroner if I tell him we are satisfied. I don’t think you should suffer for a woman of that kind. My advice to you is to say nothing that will involve yourself with il Signor Chalmers.”

“It’s not as easy as that,” I said. “Now Manchini is dead, there is nothing to stop Sarti trying to blackmail me again. He could tell Chalmers.”

Carlotti gave a wintry smile.

“You don’t have to worry about Sarti. Manchini gave me enough evidence to put Sarti away for years. He has already been arrested.’’

I suddenly realized that I was in the clear. I was out of the jam I thought was impossible ever to get out of.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” I said. “All right. I won’t say anything to Chalmers. You won’t be worried with me for much longer. If I have any luck I’ll be going to New York.”

He got to his feet

“You don’t worry me, signor. There are times when it is good to be able to help one’s friends.”

When he had gone I took from my pocket the carton of film and turned it over in my hand. What did it contain? I wondered. Why had Carlo been so anxious to make a deal with me? I stood thinking for a long moment. Then, remembering that Giuseppe Frenzi had a 16 mm. projector, I called him and asked him if he would give me the loan of it for an hour.

“It’s all set up in my apartment, Ed,” he said. “Go around there and help yourself. The janitor will let you in. I’m up to my eyes in work and can’t get away until late or I’d come around and show you how it works.”

“I can manage it,” I said. “Thanks, Giuseppe,” and I hung up.

A half hour later, I was in Frenzi’s apartment with Helen’s film threaded into the projector. I turned off the lights and started the film.

She certainly knew how to take photographs. The scenes of Sorrento that flashed on the screen were first class.From the busy piazza, the scene changed to the villa, and then to the view from the cliff head. I was sitting forward, my heart thumping, watching the screen fixedly. Then suddenly there was a long shot of Setti’s villa. I could just make out two men on the terrace. Then the scene switched to a close-up by Helen’s powerful telephoto lens. There was Setti, easily recognizable, talking to Carlo, and, a moment later, Myra joined them. So Carlo had told Carlotti the truth. He must have spotted Helen up on the cliff as she took this shot, come up after her, snatched the camera out of her hand and given her a back-hand slap that had sent her off the cliff. Then why had he been so anxious that I shouldn’t show this film to anyone since he had already told Carlotti what had happened?

I got the answer in the next shot. From the terrace the scene changed once more to the cliff head. Carlo was standing with his back to the camera, looking out to sea. He suddenly turned and his dark, blunt-featured face lit up. The camera moved away from him to the direction where he was looking.

A girl was coming along the path. She waved to Carlo. He went to meet her and, putting his arms around her, he pulled her to him and kissed her.

The shot lasted about twenty seconds. I was standing up staring at the screen, scarcely believing my eyes. The girl in Carlo’s arms was June Chalmers!

V

Sherwin Chalmers and his wife arrived at the Vesuvius hotel on the afternoon of the Friday before the inquest.

He and I had a two-hour session together. I told him the story of Helen’s past and her life in Rome. I let him read some of Sarti’s reports, having taken the report concerning myself out of the file. I told him Carlo Manchini was the man known as Douglas Sherrard.

Chalmers listened and read the reports, a cigar between his teeth, his face expressionless. When I was through, he tossed Sarti’s file on the table, got to his feet and walked over to the window.

“You’ve done a good job, Dawson,” he said. “This has been a shock to me, as you can imagine. I had no idea I had a daughter who could behave like this. She got what was coming to her. The thing to do now is to try to keep it out of the papers.”

I knew how hopeless that was, but I didn’t tell him so. “I’ll go along and talk to this coroner fella,” Chalmers went on. “He can play it down. I’ll also talk to the chief of police. Burn those reports. You’ve done your job here. Will you be ready to come to New York with me after the inquest?”

“I’ll have a few things to tidy up first, Mr. Chalmers,” I said. “I can be in New York by Monday week.”

“Do that.” He came away from the window. “I’m pleased with you, Dawson. It’s better for the punk to have died. I’m going to see this coroner fella now.”

I didn’t offer to go with him. I went downstairs with him to where the Rolls was waiting and saw him drive off, then I crossed over to the reception desk and asked the clerk to send my name up to Mrs. Chalmers. He made the call and told me to go on up.

June Chalmers was sitting by the window, looking out over the harbour. She turned her head as I entered the small sitting-room and her eyes looked steadily at me.

“Mr. Chalmers has just told me he is pleased with me,” I said, closing the door and moving over to join her at the window. “He wants me back in New York as quickly as possible to take the foreign desk.”

“My congratulations, Mr. Dawson,” she said. “But why tell me?”

“Because I need your approval.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Why should I approve?”

“For the obvious reason that, if you don’t approve, you could prevent me taking the job.”

She looked away, opened her bag, took out a cigarette and before I could get out my lighter she had flicked her own alight.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Dawson. I don’t have anything to do with my husband’s business affairs.”

“Since you know I am the man called Douglas Sherrard, I’m anxious to know if you intend to tell your husband.”

I saw her hands turn into fists.

“I mind my own business, Mr. Dawson. Helen meant nothing to me. I have no interest in her lovers.”

“I wasn’t her lover. Does that mean you are not going to tell him?”

“Yes.”

I took the carton of film out of my pocket.

“You will want to destroy this.”

She turned quickly. Her face drained of colour.

“What do you mean? Why should I want to destroy it?”

“If you don’t, then I will. Carlo asked me to get rid of it, but I thought it would be more satisfactory to you if you did it yourself.”

She drew in a deep breath.

“So the little devil did take another film.” She got to her feet and began to move around the room. “Have you seen what is on it?”

“Yes. Carlo told me to look at it.”

She turned, her face the colour of old ivory, but she managed to smile.

“So we now know something about each other, Mr. Dawson. I’m not going to give you away. What are you going to do about me?”

I again offered her the film.

“You’ll have trouble in destroying it. It doesn’t burn easily. I’d cut it in pieces and flush it down a drain.”

She took the carton.

“Thank-you. I’m very grateful to you.” She sat down. “My husband tells me Carlo confessed

to killing Helen.”

“That’s right.”

“No one killed her. He only said that to keep me police from investigating further. I suppose you have guessed that we were lovers?” She looked at me. “I want you to know about this. I believe I was the only person in the world that he treated decently. We knew each other in New York when I was a singer at the Palm Grove Club. I had known him long before I met my husband. I know he was crude, brutal and dangerous, but he did have his decent side. He meant a lot to me. I was crazy about him. I wrote him stupid letters which he kept. You remember Menotti got rid of Setti? Carlo told me he would have to go back to Rome with Setti. I didn’t think I would ever see him again. Sherwin Chalmers fell in love with me. I married him because I was sick of singing in a cheap night club and of always being short of money. I’ve regretted it ever since, but that’s my affair, and it doesn’t come into this.” She smiled bitterly, “As they say, the job’s rotten, but the pay’s good’. I’m one of those weak, wretched people who can’t be happy without a lot of money, so at the moment my husband is important to me.” She paused, then asked, “I hope this doesn’t make you feel sick? It does me often.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You know Helen was Menotti’s mistress,” she went on. “Carlo found out she was on drugs. He told Setti that he could get at Menotti through Helen. Setti sent him back to New York. Foolishly, I couldn’t keep away from him. Helen saw us together. When Carlo approached her to sell Menotti out, she agreed. She went to Carlo’s apartment while she was negotiating her price. I don’t know how she did it, but she got hold of four of my letters to him. We only found this out much later. For two thousand dollars she let Carlo into Menotti’s apartment. I want you to believe that I didn’t know anything about this until I met Carlo weeks later on the cliff head where Helen died. It was she who told me.”

“You don’t have to go into all this, Mrs. Chalmers,” I said. “All I want to know is how Helen died.”

“It doesn’t make sense without the dirty details,” she returned. “Helen began to blackmail me. She told me she had four of my letters to Carlo, and if I didn’t give her a hundred dollars a week, she would hand them to her father. I could afford a hundred dollars a week, so I paid up. I was sure Helen was leading a rotten life, and it occurred to me that if I could get something on her, I could force her to return the letters to me. When she went to Rome, I instructed an inquiry agency to watch her and report back to me. When I learned that she had taken a villa in the name of Mrs. Douglas Sherrard, and was going to live there with some man, I decided this was my chance. I planned to go there, confront her and threaten to tell her father if she didn’t give me my letters. I told my husband I wanted to do some shopping in Paris. He loathes shopping and, besides, he was very busy. He said he would join me later. I went to Paris, then on to Sorrento. I went to the villa, but Helen wasn’t there. While I waited for her, I took a walk along the cliff head and I ran into Carlo. Helen must have been up there too, out of sight, with her camera. She must have taken pictures of our meeting. Is that what this film contains?”

“There’s a twenty seconds’ shot of you two meeting,” I said. “As this shot is on the last few feet of film, it’s my guess she went back to the villa, put in a new film, dropped the completed film into the mail box that is outside the villa, then returned to the cliff head in the hope of getting more shots of you.”

“Yes, that is what must have happened. Carlo heard the motor of the camera running. He caught Helen. There was a dreadful scene. She told me that Carlo had shot Menotti. She threatened to tell the police. She said she had taken pictures of Setti on the terrace of the villa below, and he would have to pay for the film if he didn’t want her to hand it to the police. She seemed half out of her mind, screaming and raving. Carlo slapped her face. He was trying to stop her screams. She dropped the camera. She turned and ran. It was horrible. She kept running until she went over the cliff. She didn’t kill herself. She just didn’t see where she was going. She was half out of her mind. Carlo didn’t kill her. You must believe that.”

I ran my fingers through my hair.

“Yes, I believe it. Carlo took the film out of the camera but he didn’t think to look in the mail box?”

“We didn’t think of the mail box. When I got back to Naples I kept thinking about the possibility of her having more films of us somewhere. When Carlo called me on the telephone later in the evening, I told him to go to the villa and destroy all the films he could find just in case she had taken others. I believe that was when you were there. He also went to her apartment. He found the four letters she had taken — the letters I had written to him — and he destroyed them. I want you to believe I had no idea he was trying to incriminate you, Mr. Dawson. I want you to believe that. He was always good to me, but I do know he had a rotten streak in him. There was nothing I could do about that. It was my bad luck that I loved him.”

She stopped speaking and stared out of the window. There was a long pause.

“Thank you for telling me all this,” I said. “I can understand the jam you were in. I know how you must have felt. She got me in a jam too.” I got to my feet. “Get rid of that film. I don’t know what will come out at the inquest. Your husband is trying to fix it. Knowing him, he’ll probably succeed. As far as I’m concerned, you have nothing to worry about.”

Chalmers did fix it. The verdict was wilful murder against Toni Amando, known as Carlo Manchini, with insufficient evidence to show motive. The pressmen, had been tipped off not to be too inquiring. Carlotti was bland and non-committal. The whole affair evaporated into a puff of illusive smoke.

I didn’t see June Chalmers while she was in Naples. She and Chalmers left as soon as the inquest was over and I returned to Rome.

I went right away to the office. Gina was there on her own.

“It’s over and I’m in the clear,” I told her. “I fly to New York on Sunday.”

She struggled to smile.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” she said.

“It’s what I want, providing I don’t go alone,” I said. “I want to take something of Rome with me.”

Her eyes began to sparkle.

“What sort of thing?” she asked.

“Something that is young and lovely and smart,” I said. “Will you come with me?”

She jumped to her feet.

“Oh, yes, darling! Yes — yes — yes!”

She was in my arms and I was kissing her when Maxwell came in.

“Now I wonder why I never thought of doing that,” he said, sourly.

I waved him towards his office.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” I said, and pulled Gina closer.