Cade

by James Hadley Chase

  ‘Have you a car?’

  ‘It’s in the garage below … a Volkswagen.’

  ‘I have to get to Geneva. May I take your car?’

  ‘You mean … now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But what would I do without a car? If you must go to Geneva, I’ll drive you there myself.’

  ‘I don’t want you to get involved in this,’ Cade said. ‘It’s safer for you to know nothing about it. It is of international importance. I would rather go on my own. You could get into trouble.’

  Her eyes sparkled.

  ‘Is it something to do with some photographs you have taken?’

  ‘That’s it’

  ‘Then I’ll help you. I insist. I won’t be a moment’ She snatched up clothes from a chair and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Still unnerved, Cade poured more whisky into his glass. Then he got up, drank, turned off the light and crossed to the window. He opened the windows and moved silently out onto the balcony.

  Immediately below him, he could see a group of men, four of them in Swiss police uniform: the other two were Hardenburg’s men. He stepped hurriedly back out of sight, but remained still, listening.

  One of the policemen was speaking into the microphone.

  ‘He could have got away, but we are searching at the hotel,’ he was saying. ‘Block the road above and below the town. He can’t get far. Watch it … he’s dangerous.’

  Cade stepped back into the room and closed the windows. He might have guessed it wasn’t going to be all that easy. He stood still, trying to make up his mind what to do when Ginette, wearing a grey and scarlet wool dress, came from the bathroom.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said. ‘I’ll just get my back …’

  ‘They are setting up road blocks,’ Cade said. ‘We can’t go by road now.’

  ‘They? Who do you mean?’

  ‘The police,’ Cade said.

  At that moment there came a sharp rap on the door.

  NINE

  Cade and the girl stared at each other as the rap sounded on the door again.

  Cade looked wildly around the room for a hiding-place. His hand went into his pocket, his fingers closing protectively over the two cartridges of film.

  ‘The bathroom,’ the girl whispered and pointed. Then raising her voice, she called, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Police,’ a voice answered. ‘Open up, please.’

  As Cade moved silently into the bathroom, Ginette zipped open her dress, stepped out of it and snatched up her wrap.

  Cade was now in the bathroom. He silently closed the door, then looked around the small, windowless room. There was no way of escape. His heart pounding, he leaned against the wall by the door and waited.

  He heard Ginette unlock the bedroom door, then a man’s voice said, ‘We are looking for a man … a dangerous criminal.’

  ‘Oh!’ Ginette’s voice sounded alarmed. ‘There’s no one here but me. I’ve been here all evening … I was just changing.’

  ‘Your passport, please.’

  There was a pause, then Cade heard heavy footfalls as the man entered the bedroom.

  ‘Here’s my passport,’ Ginette said. ‘What’s this man wanted for then?’

  ‘Murder,’ the policeman said and walked with a heavy tread to the bathroom, turned the door handle and looked in.

  Cade cringed back against the wall, closing his eyes. He couldn’t believe his luck when the door closed again.

  Murder! So he had killed the guard! He was aware now of nothing but panic. He lost count of time, and it was only when the bathroom door opened and Ginette said, ‘It’s all right … they have gone,’ that he made the effort and pulling himself together came out into the bedroom.

  Ginette had put on her dress. She looked at him, her face pale, her eyes uncertain.

  ‘You had better tell me what has happened.’ Her voice was determined. ‘They say you are wanted for murder.’

  Cade walked slowly to a chair and sat down. In a flat monotone, he told her the whole story about Braddock, Anita Strelik and what he had seen on the terrace of the Château. Ginette, sitting on the edge of the bed, listened, in silence, her face set in her concentration.

  ‘If I hadn’t knifed him he would have killed me,’ Cade said as he concluded telling her of his fight with the guard and his escape. ‘They must know now I have photographs. They are certain to have found my camera equipment. I can’t give up now. I must get these films somehow to the American Consul.’

  ‘Are they so important?’ she asked.

  ‘I suppose so.’ He pulled at his underlip, uncertain. ‘We seem to have spies everywhere. This could be stale news, but if it isn’t, then it must be vitally important.’

  ‘I could take them. There’s nothing to stop me driving to Geneva.’

  Cade stared at her, hesitating. On the face of it, it seemed to be the obvious solution, then he remembered Old Sam, the black barman at Eastonville. He also had seemed to be the obvious solution. But who was this girl? How could he trust her with something so important? Besides, suppose they did stop and search her? It was unlikely, but it was also possible. Then she would be in serious trouble. No, he couldn’t push his responsibility onto her.

  ‘I have to do it myself,’ he said. ‘Do you know this district well? Is there any way of getting to Geneva except by road?’

  ‘There’s the railway down to Montreux. You could get a train to Geneva, but I suppose they will be watching the station, won’t they?’ She thought for a moment, then asked, ‘Can you ski?’

  Cade nodded.

  ‘I’m not good, but I can manage.’

  ‘We could get to Aigle by ski-paths. I know the way. I have often done it. From Aigle we could get a bus to the lake and then a steamer to Geneva.’

  Cade thought about this. Taking the girl with him worried him.

  ‘I can’t expect you …’ He stopped and shrugged. ‘Anyway, we have no skis.’

  ‘I can get them. A friend of mine has a villa not far from here. He’s in Paris at the moment. He has skis … if we can get to the villa.’

  ‘This is dangerous.’ Cade said. ‘I can’t drag you into it. Tell me where the villa is … I’ll find it.’

  ‘You wouldn’t’ She got briskly to her feet ‘I’ll go down and see what’s happening. If the police have gone, we can go through the garden. If they are still in the hotel, we’ll have to wait.’

  She was gone before he could stop her. He looked around for the whisky bottle. He found it on the dressing-table and poured a stiff drink. Fortified, he lit a cigarette and began to pace up and down.

  In about ten minutes, she returned.

  ‘They have left the hotel,’ she told him. ‘There is a policeman outside the hotel, but we can go by the back way. There’s no one there.’

  ‘My three friends who were arrested? What’s happened to them?’ Cade asked.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Mr. Tanz … he owns the hotel … told me they were driven away in a police car.’

  Cade grimaced. He watched Ginette go to a closet and take out a short, wool-lined coat.

  As she struggled into it, she said, ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  He went up to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Just why are you doing this?’ he asked. ‘I have told you I have killed a man. If the police find me, they will probably kill me. They wouldn’t want me to talk. If they find you with me God knows what they will do to you. Why are you doing it?’

  She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling.

  ‘Because I am an infatuated, sexually aroused fan of yours,’ she said softly. ‘Do you want it plainer than that? This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me.’ Then putting her hand to his face, she pressed her soft, yielding lips to his.

  For a brief moment, Cade held her close to him, then he pushed her gently away. He was depressed that the feel of her lips against his raised no desire in him.

  ‘All ri
ght,’ he said. ‘If that’s the way you feel, then let’s go.’

  She gave him an intent stare and then smiled ruefully.

  ‘You are not madly romantic, are you?’ she said and moved to the door.

  Cade dropped the half empty bottle of whisky into his pocket. He followed her out into the corridor, then walked with her to the stairs. Half way down the final flight, she lifted her hand and he stopped. She went on, looked into the deserted lobby, beckoned and he joined her.

  She led the way past the crowded dining-room, down a corridor to a glass door that led onto the terrace.

  They walked onto the thick, frost hard snow. It was very cold, and the moon drifted in dark clouds. Cade could feel the frost nipping his face.

  He followed the girl who seemed to know the way. She went down snow covered steps and along a path that led through fir trees to a head-high wall.

  ‘There’s a path the other side,’ she said. ‘It leads to the villa.’ She rested her hands on top of the wall. ‘Help me over.’

  He took her foot in his mitten-covered hands and lifted her. She swung over the wall and dropped the other side. He quickly joined her.

  It was dark there under the trees, but the fitful moon lit the snow-covered open ground beyond the forest.

  As they started off, Cade looked back over his shoulder. Their trail of footprints made sinister black marks in the snow: an easily read escape route, and it worried him.

  A ten minute walk through the forest brought them to the back entrance of the villa: a small two-storey wooden building with a big terrace facing the view of the slopes.

  He followed her up the wooden steps, standing close to her as she groped along one of the rafters supporting the sloping roof over the front door.

  ‘I have it,’ she said and thrust a key into the front door lock, turned the key, and together, they moved into a cold, dark hall. As he shut the door, she turned on the light.

  ‘The shutters are closed. No one can see the light from outside.’

  ‘We had better hurry,’ he said, worried. ‘If Hardenburg’s men see our prints out there, they’ll investigate.’

  ‘I’ll get the skis,’ she said. ‘Wait here.’

  ‘Let me help you.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ There was a note of impatience in her voice, ‘They are downstairs. We don’t want to make a mess all over the place. Look at your boots.’

  As he looked down at his snow-covered boots, she opened a door leading to the stairs, turned on the light and went quickly out of sight.

  Cade needed another drink, but he resisted the urge. As he waited nervously, he put his hand in his coat pocket. Then he stiffened, his heart skipping a beat. He groped feverishly, snatched out the bottle of whisky, dropping it on the floor and groped in that pocket. Both pockets were empty. The film cartridges had gone!

  For an agonising moment, he stood motionless, then his heart racing, he moved swiftly to the head of the stairs and peered down into a corridor.

  ‘Ginette!’ His voice was off-key and frantic.

  She called from somewhere out of sight. ‘I won’t be a minute. Wait …’

  He blundered down the stairs and along the corridor which led to an empty garage. Standing by a rack on which were hung a number of skis, Ginette looked towards him, her eyes startled.

  ‘What is it?’ she demanded.

  ‘The films have gone! They were in my pocket in the hotel bedroom … they have gone!’

  ‘Oh! No!’ She came towards him. ‘Are you sure? Have you looked in all your pockets?’

  He snatched off his gloves and went frantically through his pockets. Then with a gesture of despair, he slammed his fists together.

  ‘Every goddamn thing I do goes wrong!’ he said, his voice shaking.

  ‘You could have dropped them. When you climbed the wall … they could have fallen out of your pocket.’

  ‘I don’t know … they have gone!’

  ‘If they did, they will be there now. I’ll go back and look. They weigh nothing … they wouldn’t sink in the snow. They are probably right by the wall.’

  Her words gave him hope.

  ‘They could be. I’ll come with you. Come on … let’s go.’

  He turned and ran along the corridor and up the stairs.

  ‘Val! Please! Wait!’

  She came hurrying after him. He turned impatiently. They were now in the hall, his hand on the door latch.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You mustn’t go out there! It’s too dangerous. The police may be waiting for you. I can go. I can say I was returning to the hotel by the back way if they spot me. You wait here. I won’t be five minutes.’

  ‘You may have trouble finding them. They’re so small. No, I’ll come with you. Let’s go,’ and he began to open the door, but she moved past him and pushed the door shut.

  ‘Do be sensible! Of course I can find them! I’ll bring them right back! Why take risks? I couldn’t bear anything to happen to you.’

  Cade looked intently at her, then a ghost of a smile lit up his white face.

  ‘Maybe after all there is still a chance for me,’ he said. ‘Maybe I am not such a drunken sucker as I think I am. Of course! And I nearly fell for it! So you are an infatuated, sexually aroused–that was what you said, wasn’t it?–fan of mine! That kiss! You took my films. You took them from my pocket while you were pretending to swoon in my arms, didn’t you?’

  ‘I? I took them? How can you even think of such a thing? I’m doing my best to help you!’ Her big blue eyes were shocked; her lips trembled. ‘If you don’t trust me, then let us both go together and look for them. I was only …’

  It was now she who began to open the front door and he who slammed it shut.

  ‘Give me those films!’ His voice was thick with fury, ‘I won’t tell you a second time! I’ll strip every shred of clothing off you until I find them! Give them to me!’

  She stared for a long moment at him. There was a crazy, furious light in his eyes that made her flinch. She backed away, then lifting her shoulders in a gesture of surrender, she forced a smile.

  ‘I did nearly get away with it, didn’t I?’ she said. ‘I really thought I was going good. All right, you can have them.’ She dropped her hand into her coat pocket and lifted out a .38 Smith and Wesson automatic which she levelled at his chest. ‘Don’t move, Mr. Cade. I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to.’

  Cade looked at the gun, rock steady in her gloved hand, then he looked directly into the blue eyes that had suddenly become cold and hard.

  ‘Just who are you?’ he said. ‘I should have guessed you were too damned convenient. Who are you?’

  ‘Back into that room behind you, please. You may as well make yourself comfortable. I am sure you are cold. You can light a fire in there.’ She waved the gun at him. ‘Don’t try anything heroic.’

  Cade made a grimace of disgust. He turned and walked into the living-room clicking on the light. There was a large fireplace, laid with logs at the far end of the room. He walked to it and applied the flame of his cigarette lighter to the wood shavings that caught, and in a few moments, flames were blazing around the logs.

  Ginette tossed the half-empty bottle of whisky onto the settee.

  ‘Amuse yourself with that,’ she said. ‘I have a telephone call to make.’

  She backed to where the telephone stood on the sideboard, dialled a number, the gun in her hand still covering Cade who took a long drink of whisky. He shuddered as he replaced the cap.

  Ginette said, ‘Is Nicki there?’ She listened. ‘In ten minutes? Tell him to call me. I’m at his place. Tell him it is very urgent,’ and she replaced the receiver.

  Feeling the heat of the fire, Cade took off his wool-lined coat and dropped it on the floor, then he sat on the settee, nursing the whisky bottle.

  ‘Are you working for the Russians?’ he asked, looking at Ginette, mild interest on his white face.

  She studied him, then smiled. />
  ‘Perhaps. I shall be leaving you in a little while. I don’t know what will happen to you. You will be safer if you stay here. If you leave, you will almost certainly be caught. They will probably kill you. If you will take my advice, stay right here.’

  ‘Your anxiety for my welfare is most touching,’ Cade said. He lit a cigarette and was pleased to see his hands were steady. ‘I am trying to work out this little puzzle. Since you have my films, do you see any reason why you shouldn’t explain to me how you come into all this?’

  She thought for a long moment as she regarded him, then she shrugged.

  ‘No. It’s fair. Anita Strelik and I have worked together for a long time. We have been trying to get evidence of Hardenburg’s treachery. Anita dangled her charms before him and he fell for her. She convinced him she was against the present Russian Government and regretted the old régime. Hardenburg was so infatuated with her that he confided to her that he was planning to put Duslowski back into power. It was such a far-fetched story, we needed tangible proof to support it. It wasn’t difficult to bait a hook for Mr. Braddock of Whisper. He became curious and sent you here to take photographs … and we needed the photographs which we weren’t capable of getting ourselves. I reserved a room below yours at the hotel and waited hopefully. You obligingly took the photographs and I now have them. It is really very simple, isn’t it?’

  Cade thought this over.

  ‘How did you know I would blunder into your room the way I did?’

  ‘Know? I didn’t. It was sheer luck. You don’t imagine I would have been in bed if I thought you would be arriving? I had been up all night watching you in that tree and I just had to get some sleep. When you turned up, I couldn’t believe my luck!’

  ‘Who is Nicki?’

  ‘You are curious, aren’t you? He owns this villa. He will take one of your films by road. I’ll take the other by train. I believe in spreading the risk.’

  ‘And I remain here, toasting my toes by the fire until Hardenburg’s thugs find and kill me. Is that the idea?’