1953 - The Sucker Punch

by James Hadley Chase

  I had to stop. My mind boggled at the drivel I was talking, but it wasn't drivel to her. She sat looking at me, her eyes shining, her pinched little face transformed. They say love can make a woman look beautiful. Well nothing could make Vestal look beautiful, but right at that moment, in the soft light of the moon, she at least managed not to look ugly, and that was quite an achievement.

  "You mean you—you want to marry me?" she said huskily.

  "How can I?" I said curtly. "Let's stop this, Vestal." I started the car engine. "Marriage between us just wouldn't work. No matter how much I love you, I'll be damned if I will live on you."

  I had got that line out of a soap opera Glorie and I used to listen to. I remember how we had howled with laughter when the big ham had come out with it. But Vestal didn't howl with laughter. She put her hand on mine and squeezed it lovingly.

  "I hoped you would say that. I'm so proud of you, Chad. It is really me you want, isn't it?"

  "Let's stop talking about it, Vestal."

  She shook her head.

  "We're not going to spoil our happiness because my money stands in the way," she said. "I'll think of a way out. Come and see me tomorrow. You must leave this to me."

  I certainly would leave it to her so long as she didn't put her seventy million dollars in a big sack and sink it in the ocean.

  "Well, all right, I'll come and see you tomorrow," I said, shrugging. "I'll come because I can't keep away from you. But let's forget about it, Vestal; at least we can be friends."

  The big ham on the radio had said that too.

  "You must leave this to me, Chad," she said and leaned towards me. "Kiss me, darling."

  Ugh!

  By the following afternoon the thing was settled.

  Vestal wasn't taking any chances. She had the whole thing cut and dried when I called on her just before lunch.

  I'm not going to say I was completely successful, but without raising her suspicions, I couldn't press for more.

  If it hadn't been for the fact that I was now obsessed with the idea of getting complete control of those seventy million dollars, I should have considered I had done pretty well for myself. As it was I drove back to my apartment, slightly dissatisfied and feeling I hadn't played my cards as well as I might.

  I stretched out on my bed and thought it over.

  She must have been damned eager to marry me. Knowing her reputation for meanness, her offer was really handsome, and as I have already said, if it hadn't been for those seventy million dollars that were haunting me, I should have been completely set back on my heels by her generosity.

  She proposed to give me complete control of the quarter of a million she had already agreed to put at my disposal for investment purposes. She realized, she went on, that I wouldn't want to accept the money as a gift, and to get around that difficulty she proposed to regard it as a loan. To make me easy in mind (those were her words, not mine) I should pay her the usual bank interest on the loan, but any profit I might make investing the money should go to me instead of to her.

  That was fair enough. It was a bit of a letdown that she imagined I was so high minded that I wouldn't have accepted a loan without paying interest, but there it was.

  A quarter of a million wasn't bad for a start. She then proposed that I should open offices and take over the whole of her affairs. She didn't want me to work office hours or anything like that. I was to engage a competent staff and I should just keep check on them; a couple of hours a day or something like that. The rest of the time (heaven help me!) I was to spend with her.

  Having control of her estate meant that I should be able to make a nice income on the side for myself. It also meant that although I wouldn't have complete control of those seventy millions it would be possible to use them as stock and long term as securities against loans.

  With Blakestone to help me, I should be making money far before long.

  As a start it wasn't bad.

  Vestal was in a tearing hurry to get married. Maybe she imagined I would change my mind. She fixed the date for the ceremony to take place in fourteen days’ time.

  I wanted a quiet wedding, but she wouldn't hear of it. This was her moment, and she wasn't going to be cheated out of it. She was determined to show the world that she had landed a fine handsome young husband, and the wedding was planned on fantastically lavish scale.

  There were to be more than a thousand guests. Where she had dug up all the names from I'll never know. There were to be; fancy dress ball, four bands, a ballet on the lawn and fireworks and decorations that ran into thousands of dollars, and the honeymoon (heaven help me!), was to be on her luxury motor cruise in Venice.

  The cruiser was sent off to Italy right away, and we were travel by air after the reception, picking up the cruiser at Naples and then going on to Venice.

  The thought of spending six weeks with Vestal on a motor cruiser was something that haunted me, but I couldn't see any way of dodging it.

  Luckily for me Vestal was so busy arranging the wedding, didn't see too much of her during the next fourteen days.

  If she had a lot to do, so had I.

  I found a set of offices on Crown Boulevard where all the swank firms had their accommodations. I persuaded both Tom Lead beater and Miss Goodchild to run the office for me.

  By putting Leadbeater and Miss Goodchild in charge of the office, I assured myself of as much leisure as I needed to look after my own interests. That was the setup. My future looked pretty good. I was to be the husband of one of the richest women in the country. From a badly paid bank clerk I'd suddenly jumped into luxury.

  Right at that moment, I hadn't a care in the world, the trouble was, the moment didn't last long enough.

  chapter seven

  I'll skip the details of the wedding. I felt every guest was staring at me, wondering how I had managed to hook Vestal and her money, and I knew they were regarding me as a smooth adventurer. I could feel the atmosphere, although they were coolly polite to me.

  We left Cliffside after midnight as Vestal wanted to see the fireworks.

  We drove to the airport, and picked up the specially chartered plane that was to fly us to Paris, and from Paris to Rome.

  The thought of spending six weeks alone with Vestal on board that motor cruiser still haunted me. Apart from the crew, a valet to look after me, Vestal's maid and Eve Dolan who would take care of the sightseeing arrangements, there was no one to take Vestal off my hands.

  Eve Dolan had gone on ahead, and she was waiting at the Orly airport, Paris, when we arrived.

  She handled everything, and we were quickly installed in one of the best suites in the Ritz hotel.

  I postponed the inevitable honeymoon night, by taking Vestal out in the afternoon and evening and showing her the sights. We didn't get back to the hotel until four o'clock in the morning, and I insisted that she should sleep alone to get at least a few hours rest before we began the flight to Rome.

  She was so deadbeat she didn't raise any objections, and I gained one more night before I need face up to the physical side of married life with her.

  We left Paris soon after midday and flew to Rome. From Rome we motored to Naples. We left Eve to go aboard the motor cruiser while we went on to Sorrento where we were to have three days sightseeing.

  Vestal wanted to see Vesuvius, Pompeii, Capri and of course the Blue and Green grottos.

  The hotel was perched up on the mountainside, overlooking the Bay of Naples with a breathtaking view of the harbour, Vesuvius, and in the distance the lovely island of Capri.

  This would have been a wonderful spot if I had Glorie with me: it was badly marred for me to have Vestal clinging on to my arm chattering incessantly. She behaved like any hick American tourist with an overpowering enthusiasm to see everything.

  In the afternoon we went down to the hotel's private bathing beach and spent an hour or so in the sea. After a swim we lay on the hot sand, drinking iced coffee while she chattered happily.

&nb
sp; Don't ask me what she talked about. I paid little attention to what she said, but suddenly she came out with something that stiffened me to attention.

  "Chad, darling, let's go to our room early tonight. We've been married now three days, and—and—"

  I forced a grin.

  "I know, but there's been so much to see and do. Okay, we'll go up early."

  It had to happen sooner or later. I couldn't go on putting it off. I remembered telling Glorie that there wasn't much difference between one woman and another in the dark. I had believed it at the time, but I found out how wrong I had been.

  That night crawled past for us. Neither of us got much sleep. We lay in the darkness, side by side, strangers, and I cursed myself for marrying her. I told myself that this was an experience I didn't intend to repeat. I would give her my company, but I was going to sleep on my own in the future.

  The next day Eve arrived with the Rolls and we drove to Pompeii.

  Vestal was subdued and depressed, and so was I. We didn't say much to each other.

  We went over the ruins at Pompeii quickly. Sightseeing has always bored me, and Vestal now seemed to have no heart for it.

  As we drove back to the hotel, I said abruptly, "Are you all that keen on seeing Capri, Vestal? It'll be crammed with tourists, and it is much overrated. I was wondering if you wouldn't prefer to go to the cruiser and get away from the crowds."

  She nodded without looking at me.

  "All right. I don't mind."

  I was surprised she should agree so readily as she had talked incessantly about how much she was looking forward to seeing Capri. I think she must have realized this sightseeing business was boring me stiff, and she was pathetically anxious to please me.

  Eve was in front with the chauffeur. I leaned forward and told her we had decided to go straight to the cruiser and asked her to drop off at the hotel, settle our bill and have our things packed.

  She nodded without looking around. I wondered what she thought of this sudden change of plan.

  The car stopped outside the hotel and she got out. I looked curiously at her as the car began to move off, leaving her standing in the hot sunshine. She wore a plain grey silk dress, a white, wide-brimmed hat and green sunglasses. She looked trim and neat, and I suddenly became aware of her long beautiful legs and small slender feet. It came as a shock to me that whereas I had been imagining there would be no interesting woman on the cruiser, and that my time would have to be spent listening to Vestal's vapid chatter, it seemed possible now that perhaps this girl might prove an interesting companion. At least, she wasn't skinny and ugly, even though she might be a soured spinster.

  The cruiser was a five-hundred ton job, glittering white, with sun awnings and every conceivable luxury. Our suite comprised of a large bedroom with a double bed, two bathrooms, a dressing room in which was a bed, and a big stateroom.

  "Do you like it?" Vestal asked, looking anxiously at me.

  '"It's fine," I said. I peered into the dressing room. "I'll sleep in here, Vestal. I'm an uneasy sleeper and there's no point in disturbing you. We can leave the door open between the rooms so we can talk when we're in bed."

  I was pretending to examine the dressing table fitments as I spoke, and I had my back turned to her, but I watched her in the mirror.

  She literally sagged when I said that. Not only her body sagged, but her face sagged as well. She looked suddenly older, more gaunt and more ugly.

  "I—I thought you might like to sleep here."

  I turned to face her. This had to be stopped and stopped with finality.

  "I value the companionship side of marriage much more than the physical. I'm like you, Vestal. I think the physical side of love is much overrated. Luckily you and I don't need to bother about…’

  She went red, then white.

  "But, Chad…"

  “I guess I'd better see Williams and get him to unpack my trunk," I said, moving across the room. "Shall we meet in the bar for a drink in half an hour?"

  "Yes."

  Her voice was pitched so low I scarcely heard it. I kept on, went into the dressing room and closed the door.

  Williams, my valet, was already unpacking. I stripped off my clothes, took a shower, changed into a white shirt and white flannel trousers, then went up on deck.

  I hung over the rail and smoked a cigarette. I was feeling uneasy. I knew I was treating her badly. She couldn't help being ugly and all, but it was impossible for me to have physical contact with her I saw the small launch coming across the bay, and caught sight of Eve Dolan standing by the helmsman. I watched her as she ran up the short staircase to the main deck. I strolled over to her.

  "No snags?" I asked.

  Her face was expressionless as she turned. The big doughnut sunglasses completely screened her eyes.

  "The luggage is all here, Mr. Winters. Are we leaving for Venice then?"

  "First thing tomorrow morning."

  She nodded and turned away.

  "Don't go yet. Come and have a drink."

  She paused, half-turned.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Winters, but I haven't the time."

  She crossed the deck to the companion staircase.

  For the first time I noticed her hips moved in a slow languorous roll as she walked: the way I like a woman's hips to move.

  I stood looking after her, suddenly aware of a slight quickening of my pulse as something within me was coming awake.

  After dinner that night Vestal and I went up on deck. Vestal put on dance records on the radiogram. She suggested nervously I might like to dance. She wasn't a good dancer, and after a couple of records I said it was too hot to continue and we subsided in basket chairs. I called to the steward to bring me a brandy.

  It was a magnificent night. The stars were like diamonds in a purple sky, and the lights along the bay were something to see.

  With the right woman this would have been the most romantic spot in the world, but with Vestal it was just water, sky, lights and heat.

  Conversation petered out entirely, and I began to think of Eve. I wondered what she was doing. Being alone on the ship couldn't be much fun for her. I wondered what she would do with herself when we reached Venice. I had a sudden urge to find her and talk to her; to get better acquainted with her.

  I put down my brandy glass and stood up.

  "I'm just going to stretch my legs," I said. "I won't be long."

  Vestal started to get up, dropped her bag and cigarette case.

  "Don't bother," I said curtly. "You rest here. You must be tired."

  I picked up her bag and cigarette case and put them on the table and smiled at her.

  She slumped back in her chair, looking up at me.

  "I'm not tired."

  "Of course you are. You're looking worn out. Why don't you turn in and get a good night's rest? You've been late every night since we left Cliffside."

  She flinched when I said she looked worn out, and turned her face quickly into the shadow.

  "Yes. I might go to bed."

  "I won't be long, but in case you're asleep when I come in, I'll say good night now." I patted her shoulder, then walked away across the deck.

  As soon as I was out of the light, I looked back.

  She sat motionless, looking down at her hands. She looked desperately unhappy and I grimaced angrily. This could be trickier than I had imagined. The years we had to spend together suddenly stretched out in a continuous depressing picture in my mind.

  I tried to assure myself that it would be all right once we got back to Cliffside. She would have her friends, her bridge, her lectures and her social activities. I should have my work and Glorie. It had been a mistake to have come on this long trip with no one else to relieve the monotony or to help me entertain Vestal.

  I went down to the lower deck. It was dark down there; lit only by the moon. I heard a rumble of voices from the bar and glancing through the porthole I spotted the captain and the purser playing gin rummy together while t
he steward looked on.

  I was wondering if I should join them when I caught sight of a movement ahead of me.

  Eve came out of the lounge and stood for a moment framed in the lighted doorway, then she crossed over to the rail. As I moved forward to greet her, the figure of a man came out of the lounge and joined her.

  I stepped back out of sight. I recognized the man as Rollinson, the second officer.

  I watched them for several minutes, aware of a violent and inexplicable feeling of jealousy. I had imagined she would be lonely and on her own. I had planned to keep her company, and now it was I who was alone and without anyone to talk to.

  Rollinson kept edging closer to her as he talked, and I saw him reach out and take her hand, but she didn't respond. She moved her hand away sharply.

  After a long pause, he said, "Let's dance. There's no one in the lounge. The skipper's in the bar."

  "I don't think I will."

  "Oh, come on, Eve; be a good sport," he urged. "I haven't danced for weeks."

  She lifted her shoulders.

  "Well, all right. I don't want to be late though."

  I watched them return to the lounge. A moment or so later the radio started up, playing swing.

  Feeling angry and jealous, I went to my cabin.

  I opened the door softly, entered without turning on the light and crept across the room to the communicating door that stood open.

  I remained motionless by the door, listening.

  Out of the darkness came a whimpering sound that made me stiffen. It was Vestal, weeping.

  I closed the door soundlessly, undressed in the dark and got into bed.

  Even with the door shut, I could still hear her muffled sobbing.

  It was a long time before I finally fell asleep.

  I woke around six o'clock. The sun streamed through the porthole and I decided to get up. After a shave, I put on my swim trunks and went up on deck.

  The sea looked blue and inviting and I dived off the rail. As I swam I caught sight of a white-capped head some thirty yards in front of me.