An Ace up my Sleeve

by James Hadley Chase

  She looked at Larry.

  “It worked,” she said breathlessly. “He’s coming.”

  Alone, Helga stood by the window that overlooked the private road leading to the villa, a cigarette burning in her fingers. Her heart was thumping and she felt cold in spite of the heating. She was committed now: there was no turning back. She hated violence. She could never bear to see violence on the movies or the TV screen and yet she knew there would be violence here this afternoon. She knew once Archer realized he had been tricked he would be like a raging, vicious bull. She had no doubt that Larry, a much younger and fitter man could cope with him, but the thought of what was to come sickened her.

  Larry had said he would stay out of sight until Archer was in the living-room.

  “Talk to him first, ma’am. Maybe you can persuade him to play ball. I’ll be listening. If you can’t, then I’ll take over.”

  She looked at her watch. He would be here any minute now. At this hour, the traffic would be heavy, but once past Cassarate, unless he got stuck behind the local bus, he could speed.

  Then she saw the Fiat 125 sweep into sight, driving much too fast. She caught a glimpse of Archer as she stepped away from the window.

  “He’s here, Larry.” Her voice was unsteady.

  “Okay, ma’am. You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Larry said from the kitchen. “I’m right with you.”

  She heard a car door slam, then the front door bell rang violently.

  “Be careful with him, Larry,” she said.

  “That’s okay, ma’am. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  Again the front door bell rang.

  Bracing herself, she crossed the hall and opened the door. Archer bounded in. His heavy face was pale and his eyes had an unnatural glitter.

  “Is he dead?” he demanded.

  Helga looked stonily at him, turned and walked to the sitting-room. She heard Archer curse under his breath. In the doorway, she paused.

  “Take your coat off, Jack… it’s hot in here. I wouldn’t want you to catch a 111

  cold.”

  As he tore off his coat and flung it on the hall table, he said again, “Helga! Is he dead?”

  She moved into the room until she reached the centre, then turned and faced him as he came in.

  “Helga! For Christ’s sake! Is he dead?”

  “Is who dead?”

  His big hands closed into fists and he glared at her.

  “You said there was an emergency… that Hinkle telephoned!”

  “Oh, yes. Hinkle did telephone. Herman won’t be coming here until next week. He’s got some conference on or some bore.”

  A wary, suspicious look came to Archer’s face.

  “Just what is this? You led me to believe Herman was ill or dead.”

  “Did I? Perhaps it was because I decided there would be no other way of getting you up here, Jack.”

  His face turned mauve as blood rushed to his head.

  “Listen, you bitch, don’t start any tricks!” he snarled. “Those photos are now safe in the bank! With a snap of my fingers I can ruin you and you know it! Now give me the stock list! I’ve about had all I’m taking from you! Give me the stock list!”

  She moved to a chair and sat down.

  “The situation has changed, Jack. You’re not getting the list, but you are writing a letter to your bank, instructing them to send the photos to me.”

  He glared at her, his mouth working.

  “I’ve a good mind to slap your bloody face!” he said viciously. “Have you gone out of your mind? Or are you telling me you don’t give a damn about losing sixty million dollars?”

  “The situation has changed,” she repeated quietly, feeling her anger rising. You held three aces… but now I hold four.”

  He suddenly appeared to take hold of himself and his face was no longer mauve. He stared at her, his small, hard eyes probing.

  That’s interesting. You were always a good bluffer, Helga, but you don’t bluff me. If I have any more of your nonsense, I will instruct my bank to send that envelope immediately to Herman! I’m calling your bluff.”

  “If you do that, you go to jail.”

  “Listen, you stupid bitch, can’t you see I have no alternative? I’m willing to bet against my chance of going to jail against your chances of inheriting sixty million dollars,” Archer said. “I’ll give you two minutes to give me that stock list or I leave here and when I get back to Lausanne I give you my word the photos go to Herman!”

  “Your word?” She smiled bitterly. “What’s that worth?”

  “You wait and see!”

  He shot his cuff and regarded his watch.

  “Two minutes!”

  “Jack… will you please write to the bank and ask them to send me the photos? I’m asking this for your sake as well as mine,” Helga said.

  “One minute!”

  She lifted her hands and in despair, dropped them in her lap.

  He pulled his cuff over his watch.

  “Okay, Helga. That’s it. So we’re no longer partners. The photos will be 113

  delivered to Herman as he leaves Geneva airport. I’ll be able to put up with life in a prison cell, thinking of you booted out of your comfortable nest.”

  He turned and marched to the door, jerked it open and found himself confronted by Larry.

  He reared back as if he had touched a live cable, stumbled and had to make an effort to regain his balance.

  Larry moved into the room, his jaw moving rhythmically, his hands in his jeans pockets.

  “Hi, Fatso,” he said in his quiet drawl. “Remember me?”

  “What are you doing here?” Archer snarled. He whirled around, glaring at Helga. “Is this your doing?”

  “You shouldn’t have done this to me,” Helga said quietly. “You should have known you couldn’t get away with blackmailing me. Now, write to the bank and tell them to send the photos.” She pointed to the desk. “Do it at once!”

  “I’ll see you damned first!” Archer snarled. “You don’t think this pimp of yours frightens me?”

  Larry reached out, grabbed Archer’s arm and spun’ him around. His open right hand, moving so fast it looked to Helga like a blur of white, slapped Archer’s face. The sound of his palm against Archer’s fat jowl was like a pistol shot. She saw something fly out of Archer’s mouth as he staggered back. She looked down. Archer’s top denture lay at her feet: six gleaming white teeth set on a gold plate. She shut her eyes and turned away.

  She heard Archer mumble something, then Larry, his voice sounding deadly, said, “Stay right where you are or I’ll tread on them!”

  She braced herself and turned.

  A livid red mark showed on Archer’s face. He looked changed without his top teeth and his lips had fallen in. To her, he looked old, stupid and frightened.

  Larry had moved to where the denture had fallen. There was a hard grin on his face as he watched Archer.

  “There’s plenty of the same unless you do what you’re told.”

  Archer made a whinnying sound, then turning, he charged out of the room into the hall. Larry went after him, moving silently and swiftly.

  The slapping sound came again. Helga stood motionless, fighting down the bile rising in her mouth. She heard Archer suddenly cry out. It was a horrible sound and she put her hands over her ears, but her hands couldn’t keep out the savage sound going on in the hall: the tramping of feet, the quick in-take of breath, the inhuman grunting of a man trying to exert all his strength, then the sound of a heavy fall that shook the villa.

  She rushed to the open door.

  Archer was lying on his back and Larry was standing over him. As she paused, Larry kicked the prostrated man in his shifting his heavy body by the force of his kick and making Archer cry out.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” Helga cried. “Larry! Stop it!”

  He frowned, looked blankly at her, and for a moment he didn’t seem to recognize her, then his face relaxed and he g
rinned, stepping back.

  “He’s okay, ma’am… just trying to be younger than he

  “Leave him alone!”

  “Sure, ma’am.” Larry moved further away, then looking down at Archer, he said, “Come on, Fatso, get up. You’re not hurt… yet. Come on.”

  Very slowly, Archer crawled to his feet. He staggered to the wall and leaned against it, breathing heavily and sagging at the knees. The right side of his face now showed a black bruise, tinged with red and a trickle of blood ran from the side of his mouth.

  Helga looked away. The sight of his face sickened her.

  “That’s the boy,” Larry said. “Now go in there and collect your teeth, then write that letter.”

  Archer glared at him, then at Helga.

  “By God! I’ll make you two pay for this,” he mumbled. He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the blood from his mouth. The spite and viciousness in his eyes chilled Helga.

  “Sure… sure,” Larry said softly. “We know all about that. Go ahead… get in mere!”

  Unsteadily and moving like a cripple, Archer walked into the sitting-room. He picked up his denture and put it in his mouth.

  “Maybe, ma’am, you’d better write the letter. I don’t reckon he’s up to it,” Larry said, eyeing Archer.

  “Yes,” Helga said.

  “Sit down,” Larry said to Archer. “Take it easy.”

  Archer sank into a chair and held his face in his hands. His breathing was very laboured and alarmed Helga.

  “Is he all right?”

  “Oh, sure, ma’am… he’s fine. Don’t worry about him,” Larry said. “You get that letter written.”

  Helga went to the desk, took a portable Olivetti from one of the bottom drawers and put it on the desk. Her hands were shaking a little, and the paper rattled as she threaded it into the typewriter. She hesitated for a long moment, breathing deeply until she regained some composure, then she began to type.

  The only sound in the big room was the clacking of the typewriter and Archer’s laboured breathing.

  Larry stripped a stick of chewing gum and put it in his mouth.

  It took Helga only a few minutes to complete the letter. She ripped the sheet out of the typewriter and checked what she had written.

  Villa Helios Castagnola 6976 The Manager, Central Bank of Vaud. Lausanne. 1003.

  Dear Sir,

  Yesterday, I mailed to you an envelope marked “To be opened in the event of my death.”

  I now find I need to make additions to the document contained in the second sealed envelope. Will you please return this envelope, unopened, to me by registered and express mail at the above address. Your immediate action will oblige.

  Yours truly,

  John Lee Archer

  She put the letter on the desk and looked at Archer who still sat motionless, his face in his hands.

  “Jack…”

  He didn’t move and Larry, frowning, gave him a hard poke in his back with his finger.

  “The lady’s speaking to you, buster,” he said.

  Archer looked up slowly and her heart sank when she saw the expression in his eyes. She saw then he had more steel in him than she had imagined. He had absorbed the first shock, and now his bruised face was set and his eyes glittered with the viciousness of a cornered animal.

  “I’ll read the letter to you,” she said.

  He pressed his hand to his aching face and continued to glare at her.

  Her voice a little husky, she read the letter aloud. He just sat there, now staring down at the carpet and mopping at his bleeding mouth.

  “Will you sign it?” she asked.

  He looked up.

  “I forged your signature… go ahead and forge mine.” The hate in his eyes sickened her. “Go ahead and see how far it’ll get you.”

  Larry made a slight movement towards him, but Helga gestured to him to stay where he was.

  “Jack… I told you I hold four aces. You’ll sign sooner or later. I must have those photographs,” she said, her hands into fists on the desk. “I hate this. I want to spare you although you don’t deserve any consideration, but I do want to spare you. Please sign this letter.”

  “You and your pimp can go to hell!” Archer snarled. “As long as I have those photographs I’m safe… without them, I’m not.”

  “If you sign this letter Jack, and I get the photos, I give you my solemn promise that Herman won’t prosecute, but you’ll have to lose the account. I promise you won’t go to prison.”

  “What’s your promise worth to me? It’s stalemate, you bitch. I’m not signing.”

  “Larry promised me he would make you sign,” Helga said, trying desperately to quell the panic and despair rising in her. “That means he will ill-treat you. For God’s sake, Jack! I don’t want you hurt. Please sign this letter!”

  Archer stared at her, his eyes narrowing.

  “I told you… it’s stalemate! If this ape starts knocking me about, he could kill me. “In the event of my death”… remember? I’ll tell you something I haven’t told anyone. I have a bad heart. My quack warned me on no account was I to over-exert myself. So go ahead if you want me dead. Tell your ape to start knocking me about.”

  Larry, chewing gum, was listening to all this, his eyes shifting from Helga to Archer and back to Helga again. He saw the dismay growing in Helga’s eyes and he moved into action.

  He went up to Archer.

  “Up on your feet!” he said. “You and me are going downstairs. Come on.”

  “No!” Helga’s voice was shrill. “Don’t touch him!”

  “It’s okay, ma’am. I’m not touching him unless I have to. I want to talk to him. On your feet, buster.”

  Archer stood up.

  “Keep away from me! I’m walking out of here and I’m daring either of you to stop me! Now, get out of my way!”

  With a movement like a striking snake, Larry’s big hand closed over Archer’s wrist, twisted, had Archer spinning around and then bending his arm he had him in a paralysing grip. Helga jumped to her feet.

  “Larry! No!”

  “It’s okay,” Larry said quietly. “He doesn’t want to drop dead, do you, Fatso? Move with the legs.”

  Her heart hammering, Helga watched Larry march Archer out of the room. She heard them going down the stairs and she walked unsteadily to an armchair and sank into it and put her hands to her face.

  Her bluff had been called. From the moment she had agreed to let Larry help her, she had a feeling it would end in disaster. She dare not risk Archer dying. It would be better to submit to his blackmail. Jumping to her feet, she ran into the hall and paused as she saw Larry coming up the stairs from the cellars.

  “What have you done with him?”

  “He’s okay, ma’am. I’ve locked him in one of the cellars… the one at the far end… the empty one. He can’t get out. I thought maybe you and me ought to have a talk before we do anything more.”

  She went back into the sitting-room. 119

  “We must let him go, Larry.”

  “Do you think he’s bluffing about his bad heart, ma’am?”

  She lifted her hands helplessly.

  “How do I know? He looks like a man with heart trouble. I don’t know, but if you try to force him to sign and he the dies… no, Larry, we can’t do it.”

  Larry rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Mind if I have a beer, ma’am?”

  “No… help yourself… have anything!”

  He went over to the bar, opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of beer.

  “This is pretty handy, isn’t it, ma’am? You’ve certainly got it all laid on. Do you want something?”

  “No.”

  She sat in despair, trying to think of a way out and finding none.

  I’ll make you two pay for this!

  He would, of course. He knew Larry was an Army deserter. He would inform against him. Herself? He would be merciless, bleeding the account with impunity, making her cover up
his embezzlement.

  “Look, ma’am, take it easy,” Larry said. He carried his glass of beer from the bar and sat down opposite her. “We can still fix this. Have you got a copy of his signature?”

  She stiffened and looked quickly at him.

  “Yes, but I could never forge it.”

  “Could I see it, ma’am?”

  “But why? I don’t understand.”

  “Could I see it, ma’am?”

  She went to the desk, found a file containing the dozens of letters Archer had written to her concerning business transactions. She looked at the almost indecipherable signature. No… to forge that wasn’t possible.

  She handed one of the letters to Larry who looked at it.

  “A real mean signature, isn’t it, ma’am?”

  “Yes, but his bank knows it. It is impossible to forge.”

  “Maxie could do it with his eyes shut.”

  She stiffened.

  “Who?”

  “Maxie Friedlander… the guy who fixed my passport. He could do it.”

  The feeling of utter defeat and despair that was crushing her lifted.

  “Would he?”

  Larry smiled his warm, friendly smile.

  “From what Ron tells me, ma’am, Maxie would cut his own throat if the money was right. Yeah… he’d do it.”

  “He wouldn’t ask questions?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “But he would have to see the letter, Larry. It gives my address. He could blackmail me.”

  “He needn’t see the letter. You could cover it up. Anyway, Maxie wouldn’t 121

  want trouble. You pay him enough and there’ll be no kick-back.”

  “How much would he want?”

  “I don’t know that, ma’am. Maybe what you paid him for my passport. I’ll get it as cheap as I can.”

  She leaned forward, clasping her hands.

  “Will you do it?”

  “Why, sure, ma’am. Ron told me I was to help you and that’s what I’m going to do. Give me the money and I’ll go now if you’ll let me have your car. I reckon it’ll take me a little over five hours to get to Basle.” He looked at the ornate clock on the overmantel. “It’s now nearly two o’clock. I’ll be with Maxie around seven o’clock. Maybe he’ll take an hour for the job. I’ll be back here by two in the morning. How’s that?”