The Lives of Harry Lime v1.0

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The Lives of Harry Lime v1.0 Page 8

by Unknown Author


  ‘How?’

  ‘Before she approached you, she had been dickering for some time with Czerna.’

  ‘Czema?’

  ‘She came only to you when his price was too high.’ he went on. ‘When Czerna learned that she had made a deal with you, he wanted his revenge. He went direct to the inspector and told him everything. And now the inspector is in town and wants an arrest made for certain.’

  I pointed out that there didn’t seem to be much of a problem. An arrest was planned in any case.

  His reply didn’t please me. There was a note of malicious humour in his voice as he said: ’There’s; no problem for me, but there may be for you. The inspector wants a double arrest—both the girl and you.’

  I said that in that case the attempt was called off.

  ’Oh, no, you don’t leave me in that fix,’ he said. ‘If no attempt is made tonight, the inspector will know just where the weak link is, and then we’re both- in the soup.’

  I thought for a moment. What he had said was quite true, so I agreed that the girl would attempt to cross the border that night. It seemed the only way out. But I would only take her through the barbed wire, at the barrier. She would go on alone. It was up to the lieutenant to see that the arrest was made in the forest near the frontier itself.

  He protested, but I stood firm. ’This is the only way. And after all, Helene Bama is quite a big catch. If I happen to escape in the darkness, who’s to blame? Your neck is safe. The inspector has his little triumph and I…well, as somebody once said, “He who runs away will live to fight another day!!” ’

  ‘But I don’t like it!’

  ‘I didn’t say you would like it, but you’ll have to accept it. And now, Lieutenant, if you’ll excuse me I have an appointment to keep.’

  It is the unforeseen contingencies that are the most difficult. Who could have known that a distraught young lady, anxious to leave the country, had first approached my rivals, and that in revenge they had gone to our mutual enemy—the police? However, hesitation in my line of work can be fatal. I proceeded as if nothing had happened, and met the girl at the rear of the Country Club.

  After driving down a back road in my car, we soon came to the barbed wire—the last barrier before the frontier. My accomplices had done their work; the wire was cut. We waited in silence, and then, when a cloud temporarily obscured the moon, we slipped out of the car.

  Halfway through the wire, she stopped.

  ‘What is it?’ I whispered.

  ‘I’m caught.’

  ‘Your dress?’

  Involuntarily she gasped with pain. ‘No, my arm,’ she replied. ‘A barb has caught in the flesh.’

  ‘Don’t scream, don’t move. I’ll get it out. Clench your fist.’ I worked feverishly with the entanglement. ‘Now open it…hold on…I’ll have it in another moment…don’t scream…There! It’s out! ’

  She sobbed with relief.

  ‘You’re very brave,’ I said. ’That must have hurt.’ Five minutes later we were in the clear, with the forest looming ahead in the darkness. As I passed her a flask of brandy—I found from experience that my customers usually appreciated it at that point—a night owl screeched in the darkness. I felt Helene shudder. Then I said:

  ’The border lies one hundred metres across that field and immediately inside the forest. You’ve shown a good deal of courage and I wish you the best of good fortune. Perhaps some day we’ll meet again. But now I must say goodbye.’

  She protested.

  ’There are no further obstacles ahead.’ I pointed out ‘But you can’t go now. You agreed to take me across the border.’

  I used my most persuasive manner. ’This is no time for technicalities.’ I said. ‘You are substantially at the border, Miss Bama, and I must turn back. It will take me some time to get through the wire again and the Border Patrol and I are not on the best of terms.’

  ‘I am afraid I will have to be firm.’

  I smiled, but the smile faded when I saw that she was grasping a small automatic pistol. Her face was pale in the moonlight, but I could see that her hand was firm.

  ‘Bringing this gun was an afterthought, but I’m glad I did it. You’ll keep your promise or I won’t hesitate to use it.’

  We both stood silent, and I could hear the gun being cocked. Again there was a silence for an instant. Then I made up my mind.

  ’There’s something I didn’t tell you.’ I said slowly. ’The patrol I spoke of is waiting for you directly ahead.’

  ‘What?’

  I went on deliberately. ‘You approached Czema before you came to me, didn’t you?’

  She gasped.

  ‘Mr. Czerna is a very greedy man.’ I continued. ‘He was very reluctant to lose your account to me. He went directly to the inspector of police.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘How else would I know?’

  The question was unanswerable. Her mouth quivered with fright. Then I said sharply: ’There they are now.*

  Her head had not been turned for a second when my fingers were on the gun. It was out of her hand immediately. For a moment I thought that she was going to fly at me with her bare hands. But as I backed away, her mask of toughness broke, and she sobbed, ‘It was nothing but a trick. A trick! ’

  I had to stop her crying. ‘It happens that this is not a trick,’ I said with all the earnestness I could muster in my tone. ‘I told you the truth because I had to. You’ll have to get to the border as best you can—alone. Austria is directly ahead to the west. Czechoslovakia is in that direction—north. You have your choice. I would guess the patrol to be in that clump of trees, somewhere over there…’

  She was quieter now.

  I went on: ‘And now, Miss Barna, I regret that our association ends on such an unpleasant note, but I…wait! Come to think of it, it needn’t end on such an unpleasant note at all. I just remembered, I haven’t been paid in full.’

  ‘What?’ she asked, through her tears.

  ‘My price for this service was 5,000 gold pengoes and a kiss. The pengoes you were kind enough to give me. I have yet to receive the kiss.’

  I moved towards her. ‘A bargain is a bargain, Miss Bama! ’

  At that moment I heard a rustling in the undergrowth. It was the patrol.

  ‘Don’t move or they’ll know where we are,’ I whispered. ‘Stand perfectly still. I have your gun. I’ll hide behind that boulder. You cry out for me to attract their attention. When their attention is oil you, I’ll come out and cover them.’

  She hesitated. ’They want me even more than they want you,’ I said urgently.

  Her voice was firm when she replied. ‘All right, but if this is another trick, Harry Lime, so help me, I’ll see that it’s your last! ’

  When I was in the shadow of the boulder, I gave her the signal. For a moment there was dead silence. Then:

  ‘Harry Lime! Lime! Comeback!’

  Her voice rang out loud and clear on the night air.

  Immediately there was a babel of excited voices.

  ‘It’s a woman,’ one cried. Another said, ‘Keep her covered.’ It was the inspector. He stepped up to Helene. ‘Well, well, the famous and lovely Helene Bama!’ He smiled, and then added sharply, ‘Where is Harry Lime?’

  She was crying, but managed to get out, ‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’

  The inspector pointed. ‘You two men. Quickly! In that direction!’ As they ran off into the darkness, I counted those left. There were four—the inspector, the lieutenant, and two privates. Too many.

  The inspector resolved the difficulty. ‘You two, follow the wire in the other direction! He can’t have gone far! ’

  He fretted with impatience. Then, very softly, I said: ‘Did you call me, Inspector?’

  ‘Lime! ’

  ‘Don’t turn around, Inspector. Yes, this is a gun you feel in your back. One move, Lieutenant, and you’ll have a dead inspector on your hands.’

  There was silence while I
motioned to Helene to collect their guns. She did so. Then I said: ‘Quick, Helene, head for the Austrian border before the other men return.’

  ‘Hadn’t you better come with me?’

  I explained that the Austrian police thought no more highly of me than did the inspector.

  She was uncertain. Then she said, ‘Well…all right…I’ll go. But here’s the rest of my bargain. The kiss I promised.’

  Her breath was fragrant and her lips were soft and cool.

  As her footsteps faded into the darkness I heard her voice saying, ’Thank you, Harry, and goodbye!’

  With difficulty, I turned my attention to business. My car was on the other side of the wire and of no further use to me, so I offered to sell it to the inspector and lieutenant for all their ready cash. They refused, but I insisted. I knew I would need the money in Czechoslovakia, so I used the gun in the small of the inspector’s back to press the deal home. Needless to say, he soon agreed.

  I took» their wallets and discovered that though it could scarcely be called a seller’s market, nonetheless I would no longer be completely penniless over the frontier.

  Then I said: ‘One more request. Please give me your trouser belts.’

  The inspector thought I had gone crazy, but the lieutenant asked, ‘What kind of madness is this?’

  ‘I am sure a scholar like yourself is well aware that in all the famous chases of history, no policeman has ever been known to catch a fugitive and hold up his trousers at the same time. Your belts, please; or both of you will be dead very quickly.

  They handed over their belts in silence. ‘Just one more favour.’ I said as I began to move towards the frontier. ‘When you return to Budapest, would you be so kind as to notify the city tax collector that the company of Harry Lime, Ltd., Exporters and Importers, has gone out of business as of this date? Good night, Inspector…’

  I got to Czechoslovakia with nothing worse than a little attack of poison ivy.

  Sometimes, on dark.’ still nights, I think of Helene Bama and that sweet kiss she gave me despite my callous treatment of her. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we ever met up again. I really did like her.

  But I must be honest with myself—she’s not for me. She has too many things against her. She’s poor, married, and honest—and an honest woman is not a joy to Harry Lime.

  THE HAND OF GLORY

  by

  Jonquil Anthony

  Were you ever in such a hurry that you didn’t even know that you had been hit by a rubber bullet? I found myself in that situation once, making my escape down a side alley in Paris. And I was hit all right, hit for the sake of a chunk of gold. But where the gold was by then I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

  All I wanted was to lay low somewhere. And that is how it happened that I found myself in one of those sleepy English villages where cows chew the cud all day and nothing ever happens…or so I thought.

  Do you believe in witchcraft? I didn’t—till then. It takes a lot to convince me of anything, and in this case it needed the death of two people in that sleepy English village to prove me wrong.

  When I got away from that side alley in Paris, all I wanted to do was to get away from gold—and away from France. On the cross-channel steamer all I cared for was being quiet, very, very quiet.

  I guess I looked just like any other bum. I was pretty seedy, and my arm was in a sling. I was feeling kind of faint, too, and then…then I felt someone touch my arm, and I saw a girl; a girl with wide grey eyes and dark lashes that spiked over her cheeks.

  ’Excuse me, I’ve been watching you. Are you all right.’ Her voice matched her appearance: she was perfection, I thought, and I’ve seen a good many beautiful women.

  I replied that I felt fine, but my appearance belied the answer.

  She was persistent ‘It’s so calm today, you can’t be seasick. Is your arm painful? I see you’ve got it in a sling.’ There was a pause, during which I gave her no encouragement, but she went on:i ‘Are you sure that there is nothing I can get for you?’

  When I replied that I was all right, she asked me whether I was in pain with my arm.

  ‘It’s not too good,’ I replied. ‘But I’ll be O.K. Don’t you worry about me.’

  ‘Well, do at least sit down on one of these chairs. And let me find a steward and order you a drink—or some tea? Please, let me do something for you. You really look all in.’

  I don’t know how it was, but I felt better for her being around, and after a bit we were sitting there talking, side by side. It seemed we’d known each other for years. I told her how I’d got to go to England on business, how the negotiations connected with it, combined with a motorcar accident, had made me kind of exhausted.

  She was all sympathy. What I needed, she said, was complete rest The village where she lived would be ideal for my purposes: it was a sleepy and quiet hamlet, where nothing ever happened.

  ‘It sounds as if. it’d just suit me.’ I sighed.

  She immediately invited me to come and stay with her and her uncles. I remarked that they might not like a stranger barging in on them.

  ’Oh, they love strangers.’ she cried. ‘And nothing surprises Uncle John and Uncle Gregory. It’s you who’d be surprised.’

  I raised my eyebrows.

  She laughed. ‘Well…’. they’re a little odd: a couple of old dears, but a bit eccentric.’

  She went on to tell me about her village. It was all apple blossom and nightingales. The three of them live on the hill in an old house which her uncles had bought when they retired.

  ’They were scientists.’ she explained, ‘and now they spend all their time in a laboratory they’ve built at the top of the house. All day they go up there, and at night, too.’

  ‘It must be pretty dull for you.’

  She smiled wistfully. ‘Yes…I get very lonely sometimes.’

  ‘Do you? What’s your name? You haven’t told me that, you know.’

  ‘Helen…Helen Carew.’ she answered.

  I said that it was a pretty name…to suit a pretty face.’

  She blushed at the compliment. Then she said, ’Thank you. Then you’ll come and stay?’

  ‘All right, I’ll come.’

  It was half a joke, but she gave me the address and told me to turn up whenever I liked. She seemed a bit struck on me, and I found it flattering.

  A week or two later I fetched up at that little village. Fallowdene, it was called, and it lay in the heart of the Fen country.

  When I got to the station there was a message from Helen saying that the car had broken down and that she’d be along in a quarter of an hour. So I whiled away the time by going into the ‘local’ for a pint. The place was empty, and the landlord and I got talking.

  I made the usual remarks about the natural beauties of the village, but the landlord was of a pessimistic outlook. The place didn’t bring luck to anyone, he said. Both he and his wife were fed up with it.

  He buried his mouth in his tankard and then elaborated his complaints. ‘Visitors don’t come ’ere no more, sir, and the crops rot. Cattle all ail, pigs get sick, an’ a man’s discouraged afore ’e’s begun.’

  ‘Sounds pretty queer to me,’ I remarked.

  ‘Ah,’ he affirmed, ‘an’ I can tell you summat even queerer.’

  I motioned him to refill our tankards. When this was done, he leaned across the bar counter. ‘It’s the children…every now an’ then one of ’em begins to go…pining away, that’s all you can call it. A child gets hollow-cheeked an’ pale, an’ in a couple of months it’s all over—and no one can tell why!’

  I didn’t take too much notice of the landlord, and when I saw Helen standing in the doorway in a cool summer frock with the sunshine behind her, I quite forgot all he’d said. She drove me back along the green lanes until we came to the house. And there under a cedar tree on the lawn were the two old uncles. They had got on their panama hats, and tea was set out on a silver tray on a table in front of the
m.

  We were introduced. ’Everyone calls my uncles Mr. Gregory and Mr. John, so you must do the same/ said Helen.

  When I had been given my tea, Mr. Gregory said, ‘Strangers are very welcome here, sir, very welcome. Sometimes we go for weeks, months, perhaps, without a stranger coming here.’

  ‘And never yet two strangers.’ echoed Uncle John. ‘Helen told us how you’d met on the ship. We said she should ask you here straight away.’

  ‘Helen said you wanted to get away from life.’

  ’That’s what she said—to get away from life. Well, stay as long as you wish, young man, as long as you wish.’

  ‘You’re too kind.’ I was saying when Gregory interrupted me. ‘Not kind at all…Now, if you will excuse us, we have some work to do. We don’t allow more than half an hour for tea each day.’

  We leaned back in our chairs when they had gone. The afternoon was perfect for lazing. I said that I had not realised that they still worked.

  ’They’re going to the laboratory.’ Helen explained. ‘I told you how they spend all their time in it. No one ever goes into it but them.’

  ‘Are they both scientists.’

  ‘Yes. They’re twins, you see, and have always done everything together. And now they’ve a kind of obsession. I think I should explain about it.’

  She sipped her tea, and then said, ‘It’s about gold.’

  I remembered that I’d come there to get away from just that same commodity.

  Helen explained that they were trying to find out how to make gold, that they were determined to find out the secret of how to make it, before they died.

  She laid her hand on my sleeve. ‘I expect they’ll start talking about gold tonight at dinner, so now that I’ve told you—if they do—you’ll be ready to talk about it, won’t you?’

  ’Of course, don’t worry,’ I answered her.

  You see, I’m always ready to talk about gold.

  At dinner that night, as Helen had prophesied, I learned their story from their own lips. It was an old story: alchemy, the search for the philosopher’s stone that would transmute base metals into noble ones.

 

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