1952 - The Wary Transgressor Page 19

  While I was speaking, she looked at me with the same unsure, puzzled expression in her eyes that I had seen in Bruno's eyes.

  "You do love me, David?"

  I took her in my arms.

  "More than anything in the world. It's all right, Valeria. There's nothing to worry about. I'm a little het-up naturally that I might lose you, but that's all."

  "You're sure that's all?"

  "Yes, of course. Now, go on up, darling, before you're missed. Don't say anything to Bruno about the job until he gets a little stronger. Saturday or even Sunday will be soon enough."

  She kissed me and clung to me for a moment.

  "You will be happy to stay, David?"

  "I shall always be happy so long as I have you with me," I told her.

  I watched her run up the harbour steps. Then I suddenly remembered that I had handled the Dante bust without gloves.

  My fingerprints would be on it!

  As I went up the stairs to the apartment again I thought it was that kind of mistake that gave the average murderer away.

  In the afternoon I went through my clothes and various belongings, and selecting only the essential things, I packed them in a small handbag.

  I had to think of every contingency. If something unforeseen happened, and, in spite of all my careful thinking, my plan didn't succeed, I had to have a line of retreat.

  If things went wrong, I intended to take the motorboat and make a dash up the Lago to Brissago, the Swiss frontier town.

  I was confident there was no boat on the Lago faster than this one, and if the police came after me I wouldn't have much difficulty in shaking them of.

  I would leave the boat a mile or so from Brissago, and then, travelling over the hills, would take my chance in the darkness to get across the frontier. I would then make for Locarno, where I might remain for a day or two mingling with the tourists, and then double back through Como, and then on to Milan. From Milan I would go to Rome, where I was sure I could hide myself until the search for me had cooled of.

  Fortunately I wasn't short of money. I had the seven thousand lire Laura had paid me, and three thousand I had saved.

  I didn't anticipate anything going wrong, but I was determined not to neglect a single detail.

  I took the bag down to the boathouse and concealed it under the boat's tarpaulin.

  Then I ran the boat into the harbour and began to check over the engine. I had to be certain of a quick getaway in case of an emergency.

  While I was working on the boat, I heard the sound of an outboard motor, and glancing up I saw a small boat heading towards me.

  At the tiller was a heavily built man in an open-necked white shirt and flannel trousers. He cut of the engine and let the boat drift towards me.

  I got out of the motorboat and walked along the harbour wall, wondering what he wanted.

  As the boat came closer I could see he was youngish, with a sun-reddened face and a heavy, aggressive jaw. He grinned amiably at me.

  "Pardon me," he said, with a strong American accent, "is there anywhere around here where I can get some gasoline? I seem to be running low."

  "There's a garage about two hundred yards from here," I told him. "See that willow tree? If you land there and walk up the shore you'll come to it."

  "Thanks."

  He leaned forward and grabbed hold of one of the mooring rings on the harbour wall.

  "You American?"

  "Half and half," I said cautiously. "On vacation here?"

  "That's right. My wife and I are staying at Stresa. Some spot, isn't it? What's that island over there?"

  "The Isola Bella. It belongs to the Borromeo family. They've had it since 1650."

  "Is that right?" He looked impressed. "I'd like to get a look at it. Can one go over the place?"

  "Sure, but it will cost you a hundred and fifty lire. There's nothing free in Italy, you know."

  He laughed.

  "I guess that won't bust me."

  "It's worth seeing for the terraced gardens alone, but there's also a fine picture gallery that you might care to see."

  "Sure. I'm nuts about pictures. Well, thanks, I'll get filled up with gas and then go over and take a look. Much obliged."

  "You're welcome," I said.

  "You'll pardon me, but haven't I seen you before?" he asked casually, looking up at me.

  "I wouldn't know," I returned. "In Milan maybe."

  He shook his head.

  "I've never been to Milan. I had an idea I've seen you in the Army. I was at General Costain's headquarters at Bologna, way back in 1945."

  If I had stepped on a snake I couldn't have reacted more violently. I knew I went white. I could feel the blood leave my face, and I must have jumped six inches.

  But the boat had begun to drift away, and he leaned forward to grab at the mooring ring. I was pretty certain he hadn't seen me jump.

  "I wasn't in the Army," I said.

  The words seemed to rattle in my dry mouth.

  "Oh, well, I guess I'm thinking of someone else," he said. "You remind me of a sergeant who took the General on a sightseeing trip." He laughed. "This sergeant stole the General's car and deserted. Can't say I blame him. The General was about the worst louse I've ever met in the Army, and I've met a few."

  I didn't say anything: I couldn't.

  "Funny how one remembers a thing like that," he went on, chuckling. "Someone one sees starts the memory clicking. Wonderful thing—memory. That was six years ago, and I remember the commotion as if it happened yesterday." He let go of the mooring ring. "Well, I mustn't keep you. Thanks a lot for your advice. I'll get over and take a look at that picture gallery."

  He waved to me, started up the outboard engine and swung the nose of the boat around to head towards Bicci's garage.

  I stood looking after him, my mouth dry, the muscles in my legs fluttering and my heart pounding against my side.

  After I had been over the boat I went up to my room and lay on the bed. I had planned to have a sleep, as I intended to keep watch on the villa during the night, but I found sleep didn't come.

  I kept thinking about that American.

  For six years I had lived in Italy, mixed with tourists, rubbed shoulders with hundreds of people in crowded Milan, and had never met anyone who had even given me a second glance.

  Then suddenly, just when I had so much on my mind, this guy had to appear from nowhere and recognize me.

  I felt cold sweat on my face as I lay in the semi-darkness. I had pulled the blind against the afternoon sun, but the room was uncomfortably hot. In spite of the heat, I sweated ice.

  Would he think about me? Would he come back for another look?

  I tried to remember having seen him at Bologna headquarters, but I couldn't place him.

  There had been a number of sergeants in the orderly room, and in Major Kay's room. He might easily have been one of them.

  If he did come back and place me, would he give me away?

  He seemed a good type of guy. He was out of the Army now. Why should he bother, unless he knew about the girl Costain had killed? If he thought I was responsible, he might give me away.

  I began to wonder if it were safe to go ahead with my plan with this man in the vicinity. Was he the unforeseen event that one reads about that upsets the perfect murder?

  I had to go ahead, I told myself. I had to trust to luck. Maybe he wouldn't stay long. I had to get him out of my mind.

  Around eight o'clock I went up to the villa.

  Valeria was sitting with Bruno, a book in her lap. Nurse Fleming was knitting. There was no sign of Laura.

  Valeria looked up and smiled as I came along the verandah.

  "Is it time to move signor Bruno?" I asked, pausing at the foot of the chair.

  Nurse Fleming consulted her watch, then put away her knitting.

  "Yes. We'll get him in now," she said, and got up.

  Valeria also got to her feet.

  I noticed Bruno looked quickly a
t her, and then at me.

  I wheeled the chair into the bedroom and lifted him on to the bed.

  "I'm going for a swim now, darling," Valeria said to him, and bent and kissed him. "I'll be in again after dinner."

  Again I saw his eyes go from her to me and back to her, and this time his eyes were worried.

  I had an idea he knew there was something between Valeria and myself, and he didn't like it. I didn't blame him. After all, I was just the hired hand, and she was the heiress to a hundred million lire. If I had been in his place I shouldn't have liked it either.

  As I followed Valeria out of the room I told myself that in a few days' time I would put that right. Once I had removed the danger, got rid of Laura, I could prove to him I was worthy of Valeria if he would only give me the chance to work at this job.

  Valeria said, "Will you come swimming with me, David?"

  We were walking down the garden path together.

  "Better not," I said. "Did you see the way he was looking at us? I think he's caught on already. I'm going to work in the garden. Nurse Fleming can tell him what I'm doing. We mustn't worry him, Valeria. You go on and have a swim. It's better this way."

  "It's so silly," she said. "Why can't people live their own lives?"

  "You'll live your own life soon enough," I said, smiling at her.

  "Maybe you won't think so much of it when you can do exactly what you like. It isn't all fun, you know."

  She gave me a quick look.

  "Then let's meet by the harbour after dinner."

  I shook my head.

  "I'm sorry, Valeria, but I have to go into Milan tonight. I'm expecting a friend from Rome."

  Again she looked at me.

  "David, you're not planning something, are you? You're making me uneasy, I don't know how to explain it, but there's something so hard and purposeful about you now. You worry me."

  "You would look hard and purposeful if you were in my place," I said, smiling at her. "I have a big job on my hands, darling. I've got to convince your father that I'm worthy of you, and that will want a lot of doing. I'm determined to succeed."

  She looked at me doubtfully.

  "You will succeed, David, but don't let it change you."

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nurse Fleming come out on the verandah.

  "Go and have your swim. Nurse Fleming's watching us," I said, lowering my voice, I turned away and walked along the path towards the toolshed.

  I collected a basket and a hand-fork and settled down to weed the big rosebed. I worked in the garden until dusk.

  It was just after eleven o'clock when the last light went out, leaving the villa a darkened outline against the night sky.

  I had been sitting on the grass, my back against a tree, waiting. As soon as the light went out, I got stiffly to my feet and walked quietly down the path to the terrace, overlooking the boathouse. I chose a dark, shadowy place under the trees and sat on the balustrade and waited.

  I didn't know what I was waiting for, for I wasn't going to miss anything that night. I had an idea Bellini might come over for last-minute instructions. If he did, I wanted to hear what was said.

  An hour dragged by, and I began to wonder if I were wasting my time. But I was so keyed up I knew if I went to bed I shouldn't be able to sleep, so I decided I might as well stay out in the cool night air even if nothing did happen.

  The hands of my watch pointed to twelve-thirty before I heard the stealthy creaking of oars in rowlocks.

  Soundlessly I slipped of the balustrade and ducked down into shadows.

  I could see down into the harbour, and after a few moments I saw a boat glide in.

  I recognized Bellini's massive figure as he got out of the boat and made it fast to one of the mooring rings.

  He disappeared from sight.

  I wondered if he had gone to the boathouse. I knew Laura hadn't left the villa. I had been watching her in her room, and she had been the last to turn out the light.

  As I was about to move out of my hiding place to see if he had turned on the light in the boathouse, I saw him within fifteen feet or so of me.

  He gave me a bad fright. He had come up the steps like a ghost.

  Another second I should have come out of my hiding place, and he would have seen me.

  I crouched back, holding my breath, and watched him.

  He paused at the head of the steps, his head on one side, and he looked like a great, brutal gorilla as he stood there, listening.

  Then he continued on up the path, making no sound and moving with surprising lightness for a man of his size.

  I went after him, keeping well away from him, and taking every precaution to make no noise.

  He took the path to the garage.

  I kept after him, and saw him pause at the sliding doors to look back over his shoulder. For a horrible moment I thought he had seen me. Then he pushed open the door arid entered the garage and closed the door behind him.

  I sneaked up to the garage as a light sprang up in the uncurtained window at the rear. I went round to the back and peered through the window.

  Bellini was laying out a toolkit on the bench.

  He wore a singlet and a pair of black flannel trousers. His great, muscular arms were covered with thick, black hair, and sweat beads glistened on his face and neck.

  He opened the hood of the car and began to work on the ignition wiring.

  He worked for some time, changing the leads over, and messing up the whole system. He was making sure I would have a job on my hands tomorrow evening, and I wouldn't be through until after he had carried out his part of Laura's plan.

  He worked for about half an hour, then set down his tools and wiped his hands on the seat of his trousers. There was a hard little smile of satisfaction on his face as he surveyed his handiwork.

  Then he stiffened to attention, cocking his head on one side.

  Moving with silent swiftness, he snapped of the light, shoved the roll of tools into his hip pocket and went quickly to the door.

  "It's me," Laura said under her breath. "Have you finished?"

  "Yes. He won't fix that in a hurry."

  "You shouldn't have put on the light, Mario. I saw it from the house."

  "I had to have a light," he said irritably. "Did you expect me to work in the dark?"

  "You should have brought a flashlight."

  "You're always finding fault! Why didn't you do it yourself, if you're so smart?"

  "Oh, shut up!" Laura said fiercely. "If you make a mistake tomorrow night, it'll be the last mistake you do make. Can't you use what damned brains you have sometimes?"

  "I shan't make a mistake," Bellini snarled.

  "You had better not! Don't be late. Do you understand? You must be at the boathouse by nine o'clock."

  "I'll be there."

  "I'll be playing the radiogram. If the radiogram isn't playing, go back. You mustn't come near the place if it isn't playing. Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  "You'll hear it long before you reach the harbour. If it isn't playing, turn back. You'll know something has gone wrong."

  "All right, all right. I'm not deaf."

  "So long as you understand. If it is playing, go straight up to the villa. Don't let her see you. Don't let her cry out. David mustn't know what has happened until the police arrive. Do you think you can stop her making a noise?"

  "Of course," Bellini said scornfully. "There's no one better at that game than me."

  "As soon as it's done, get in the boat and go back to the Albergo. Stay there until I come over. I may not be able to get over until Monday or Tuesday. It depends on what the police do."

  "I've got to have some money," Bellini said urgently.

  "I'll have sixty thousand lire by Monday. You'll have to make do with that until I sell my pearls."

  "It's not much," Bellini said.

  "It will have to do," she returned sharply. "I can bring you more at the end of the week when you are in Switze
rland. Now go back to the Albergo."

  I watched Bellini move silently away into the darkness. Laura went back to the villa,

  I remained where I was, breathing heavily, my hands clenched at my sides, my heart racing.

  I hadn't wasted my time.

  I had them both now where I wanted them.

  chapter ten

  The next morning I woke at ten minutes to seven. I lay in the narrow, hot little bed and stared at the patch of blue sky I could see through the window.

  Today is the day, I thought, and ran my fingers through my hair. This time tomorrow . . .

  I moved my legs restlessly under the sheet. Somewhere downstairs I heard movements: the clatter of cups and saucers, the heavy plodding of feet, the murmur of voices. I heard Bicci clear his throat noisily.

  This time tomorrow . . .

  I wondered if I would be in this bed, in this room, listening to these noises going on below me, or if I should be in a prison cell in Milan or hiding in the hills the other side of the Swiss frontier.

  I threw of the sheet and swung my legs to the floor. There was a sick feeling of tension in the pit of my stomach, and in spite of the already growing heat in the room I felt chilly as if an east wind were blowing through the open window.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, staring down at my naked feet. In a little over thirteen hours' time, I thought, I shall have killed two people. It was like saying, 'In a hundred years' time I shall be dead': something one says, but doesn't realize.

  My mind began to brood over the details of my plan, but I quickly stopped that. There was no point in going over the details again. I had been over them enough times. I had taken care of everything. I had been as careful as I knew how, and I knew I couldn't be more careful. Now, it depended on luck. If I were going to get away with it, I would get away with it. If I were going to get caught, then something unforeseen, something beyond my control, would be responsible. Nothing I could do now, nothing I could think of, would help me My thinking, my planning, my preparations were as complete as they ever would be.

  There was no point in thinking about the plan. All I had to do now was to wait until nine o'clock tonight, and then go ahead and put it into operation.