1980 - You Can Say That Again

by James Hadley Chase

  But there were too many times when I thought of that scream and that thud; when I thought of Loretta’s despairing eyes and remembered what she had said: For God’s sake, Jerry, don’t believe what that old bitch tells you. Don’t believe what Durant tells you. Believe me! I also thought of the man pacing up and down in the room with the barred windows.

  On the sixth morning, Mazzo, while serving breakfast, said, ‘It’s all fixed. The inquest went like a dream. Get with the mask. They’re burning her this morning at eleven.’

  I wanted to smash my fist into his ape-like face. I wanted to yell at him: You killed her! I got up and went into the bedroom.

  ‘Something wrong?’ he asked, following me.

  ‘I don’t want anything. Get out!’

  ‘I tell you: no problems,’ Mazzo said with grin. ‘Get with the mask and wear the mohair.’

  Mrs. Harriet, her poodle and I were the only mourners. We drove to the crematorium in the Rolls.

  There was a car in front and two behind.

  The news had leaked, and the press were at the gates of the crematorium: the jackals, the camera men, the TV crews, the lights and the gaping crowd. The guards spilled out from the three cars. They let the Rolls through, then shut off the surge of the jackals.

  There was an aged priest, his lined face set in professional sadness. He seemed in awe of Mrs. Harriet and spoke mumbling words of sympathy. He lingered over the service as if anxious to give value for money.

  When the coffin began to roll into the furnace, I sank onto my knees. I hadn’t said a prayer since I was a kid, but I said a prayer for Loretta.

  The poodle began yapping.

  As I tried to find words for Loretta, I heard Mrs. Harriet say to the poodle, ‘Hush, darling. Show respect.’

  * * *

  The next two days dragged by.

  I ate, sat on the balcony, read and waited.

  On the third morning while I was sitting on the balcony after breakfast, I saw the Rolls drive up.

  Jonas appeared with luggage which he put in the boot, then Mrs. Harriet appeared, carrying the poodle. She paused to talk to Jonas who bowed, then she got into the car and was driven away.

  Was I thankful to see her go!

  Mazzo came silently into the room.

  ‘You go to the office this morning,’ he said, ‘Get with the mask.’

  He drove me in the Jaguar to the front entrance of the office where the guards got me through the waiting press. There were the usual plaintive cries and flashlights.

  We went up in the elevator and Mazzo led me to Ferguson ‘s office where I found Joe Durant behind the big desk.

  ‘Come in, Stevens,’ he said, giving me a tight smile. ‘Sit down.’ He waved me to a chair.

  I sat down.

  ‘I have to thank you for your excellent performance at the funeral,’ Durant said. ‘I realized what an ordeal this must have been for you.’

  There didn’t seem anything for me to say to this, so I said nothing.

  ‘Mr. Ferguson has now returned,’ Durant went on. ‘You are free to do what you like for at least two weeks. You are showing yourself a most valuable member of our staff, and we are more than satisfied with you.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ I said.

  Durant leaned forward and opened a briefcase. He took from it a check.

  ‘Here is your first month’s salary, Stevens, plus a small bonus.’

  I got up and took the check. It was for ten thousand dollars.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ I said, putting the check in my wallet.

  ‘You are free. Get out of that disguise. You will find your clothes in the second bathroom, down the corridor. Make use of the cabin.’ His thin smile lifted the corners of his lips. ‘It is understood you don’t leave the city. You don’t talk to the press. You say nothing about your work.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘All right, Stevens, run along and enjoy yourself.’

  I moved to the door, then paused.

  ‘Would you convey to Mr. Ferguson my sympathy and condolence for the loss of his wife?’

  The thin smile went away.

  ‘All right, Stevens, run along.’

  I spent the next three hours buying clothes. There was a man’s store on Paradise Boulevard, and I had myself a ball. Finally, satisfied I had everything I wanted, I packed the carrier bags in the Merc, and drove to the cabin.

  The guard at the barrier eyed me, then nodded and lifted the pole.

  As I drove to the cabin, it occurred to me that I was exchanging one prison for another. I was still under surveillance, but I didn’t care. I had money! I was out of that evil house, and I was damn well going to enjoy myself!

  It was just on noon. As soon as I had unpacked my purchases and put them in the closet, I called The Ferguson Electronic & Oil Corporation. I asked to speak to Miss Sonia Malcolm.

  ‘This is Jerry Stevens,’ I said when she came on the line. ‘How about that rain check? Could you or would you have dinner with me tonight?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ she said, and she sounded as if she meant it.

  ‘Look, Sonia, I am a stranger in this city. Where can we go? Something really nice, preferably by the sea. I’ve just been paid: money is no object.’

  She laughed.

  ‘Well . . .’ A long pause, then she said, ‘There’s The Albatross on Ocean Boulevard. I hear it’s very special but pricey.’

  ‘Sounds fine. I’ll pick you up. Where do you live?’

  ‘No, don’t do that. I’ll meet you there. I have a car. My place is difficult to find.’

  ‘No place is difficult to find a beautiful girl,’ I said. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Around eight thirty? I’ll be there,’ and she hung up.

  I slowly replaced the receiver. Okay, so she didn’t want me to know where she lived. Maybe she was sharing with another girl. Maybe she wasn’t too happy about her surroundings. Maybe . . . I shrugged.

  What really interested me was I was going to take Sonia Malcolm out to dinner. But I was curious. I tried to find her in the telephone book, but she wasn’t in it.

  Then I remembered she was a new secretary and might not be listed.

  After lunch, I walked to the deserted beach. I swam, sun bathed, swam again.

  Lying under the shade of a palm tree, my mind went back to Loretta. I tried not to think of her, but that scream, that sickening thud haunted me. I thought again of the funeral, the priest and the poodle.

  I suddenly felt lonely. Was I going to enjoy this luxurious cabin as I had first thought? I looked along the deserted beach. I was used to mixing and talking with people. Now, this sudden loneliness, with only morbid thoughts to keep me company, depressed me.

  I walked slowly back to the cabin. Its emptiness also depressed me. I tried to tell myself I should be grateful to have such a place in which to live, but I knew I was kidding myself.

  How the scene would change if I had Sonia here to share all this with me!

  I realized I had fallen in love with her the moment I had seen her. With her here, I was sure I would be really happy.

  I thought of tonight. I wasn’t sure of her. She seemed friendly. Could she be more than friendly to me? I was now no longer a bit-part, unemployed actor.

  I was Jerry Stevens, the personal assistant to one of the richest men in the world, and holding down a salary of one hundred thousand dollars!

  What makes you think she hasn’t fallen in love with you? I thought. Man! If she had!

  Suddenly anxious to get away from this silent, lonely cabin, I went into the bathroom, took a shower, shaved carefully, then put on the oyster grey suit I had bought, with a matching shirt, a wine red tie and Gucci shoes. Regarding myself in the mirror, I decided I looked pretty good.

  I decided I would drive down to Ocean Boulevard, find the Albatross restaurant and book a discreet table where Sonia and I could talk. Having booked the table, I would spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the city.

  As
I was leaving, the telephone bell rang. The sound startled me as it was so unexpected. I hesitated, then lifted the receiver.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mr. Stevens?’ A man’s voice.

  ‘Yes. Who is this?’

  ‘Mr. Stevens, I am Jack Macklin, the staff controller of our corporation.’ The voice was soft, but confident: a man used to giving orders.

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Staff controllers were, to me, a dime a dozen.

  ‘As a new member of our corporation, Mr. Stevens, you may not have had the opportunity of reading the staff regulations and the rules of our corporation.’

  ‘I didn’t even know there were staff rules and regulations,’ I said in my bored voice.

  ‘Exactly, Mr. Stevens. I am putting a copy of the staff handbook in the mail for you. It should reach you tomorrow morning. I would ask you to study it.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Thanks for calling.’

  ‘Mr. Stevens, to forestall disappointment, I will tell you one of our strictest rules is that members of our staff do not have any personal relationship with each other.’

  I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head.

  ‘I’m not with you,’ I said.

  ‘I understand you have invited Miss Malcolm to dinner.’

  ‘That’s not your business!’ I barked.

  ‘Miss Malcolm is also a new member of our staff. She did not know of this strict rule not to have any personal relationship with other members of our staff,’ he went on as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘The rule has now been explained to her as I am explaining it to you.’

  I was in such a rage, words wouldn’t come. While I was floundering, the quiet voice went on, ‘Also Mr. Stevens, only authorized people are allowed on any of Mr. Ferguson’s properties. That is to say, you have the use of one of Mr. Ferguson’s cabins, but visitors are not allowed.’

  ‘Listen to me!’ I almost shouted. ‘I am Mr. Ferguson’s personal assistant! Staff rules do not apply to me! I do what I damn well like!’

  ‘I understand, Mr. Stevens. You will, of course, ask Mr. Durant about receiving visitors, but Miss Malcolm does what I tell her,’ and he hung up.

  Seething with rage, I dialed the Corporation.

  A girl said in a bright, pleasant voice, ‘The Ferguson Electronic & Oil Corporation. Can I help you?’

  ‘Put me through to Miss Sonia Malcolm!’ I barked.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, is this a personal call?’

  ‘Never mind! Put me through!’

  ‘Hold it a moment, sir.’

  I waited, blood hammering in my temples.

  A long pause, then she came back on the line.

  ‘Miss Malcolm isn’t available, sir. Can I put you through to our staff controller?’

  I slammed down the receiver.

  Man! Was I fit to be tied!

  chapter nine

  The palm trees rustled in the breeze. The sea glittered in the sun. The beach was like a silver carpet.

  Who the hell cared?

  Frustration, fury and loneliness swamped my mind.

  I wanted Sonia! I needed her!

  I sat on the veranda, staring at the empty beach. A gull swooped out of the sun and flew away with a plaintive cry.

  In my mind, I heard the voice of the staff controller: Miss Malcolm does what I tell her.

  I forced myself to relax. If this creep imagined he could dictate to me, he was in for a surprise! This was between Sonia and I! To hell with him!

  My decision made, I got to my feet and walked to where I had parked the Merc, under the shade of a group of palms. I drove to the barrier. The guard, yet another squat, dark, sinister looking man, gave me a curt nod and lifted the pole.

  I drove into the city. The time now was 17.05. I had no idea when the Ferguson Oil & Electronic Corporation released their staff. I hopefully decided when the staff did leave, they would leave by the back entrance.

  It was a chance I had to take.

  I cut down the side street, leading to the back entrance and the underground garage. I found parking space and maneuvered the Merc, to the curb, then I settled to wait. I was in a good position. I could see the exit of the garage. I could see the guard at the barrier.

  Time crawled by. I kept looking at my watch. Just after 18.00, the exodus began. First, cars came from the garage. I looked at the men, driving: all well dressed, executive types. Then, some twenty minutes later, came the flood of secretaries, the clerks, the less important. All of them walking.

  I started the engine, leaning forward, my heart thumping. There seemed no end to the stream of men and women: some talking, some pausing for a final word.

  Then I saw her. She came up the ramp, wearing a cool looking beige dress, walking purposefully, and by herself.

  No one spoke to her: no one waved. She was a new member of the staff.

  She set off down the street, heading for the main boulevard. I gave her a good start, then drove slowly after her.

  Once on the boulevard, I had trouble. I had to edge my car into the home going traffic, and once in, I was surrounded by slow moving cars. I could see her on the sidewalk, walking briskly. I tried to slow, but an impatient tap on the horn from the car behind me forced me on. I passed her, cursing. There was no parking space ahead of me. As I passed her I wanted to pull up, but again the tap on the horn kept me going. I nearly rammed into the car ahead of me as I watched her in my driving mirror. She kept moving, but I was now leaving her well behind.

  The sidewalk was as crowded as the boulevard. If I lost her! I didn’t know where she lived! Then ahead of me, I saw a car pull slowly from the curb and edge into the traffic. I swung into the parking slot, didn’t wait to lock the car, but ran back down the sidewalk, dodging around people, looking frantically for Sonia.

  I caught a glimpse of her as she turned down a side street. I ran, jostling and shoving against the stream of people until I reached the side street. There she was, walking briskly, out of the crowd. I lengthened my stride and came up to her.

  ‘Sonia!’

  She whirled around.

  There were only a few people on the sidewalk. They pressed on, ignoring us.

  She stared at me.

  ‘What do you want?’

  This wasn’t the Sonia I had been dreaming about.

  Her expression was hostile, her eyes frightened.

  ‘Sonia!’ I said as I came to a standstill by her side. ‘I . . .’

  I got no further.

  With firm determination, she said, ‘Leave me alone! I don’t want anything to do with you! Leave me alone!’

  ‘Now listen, you mustn’t worry about that jerk, Macklin. I am Mr. Ferguson’s personal assistant. I don’t have to conform to their stupid rules. If I ask you to dinner, there is no problem. I . . .’

  ‘No problem for you, Mr. Stevens!’ she snapped. ‘Now you listen to me! I have slaved for this job. I am working as Mr. Ferguson’s assistant secretary. Mr. Macklin has told me that if I fraternize with you or any of the other members of the staff, I will be dismissed! Now, go away! I am not giving up this job for any man! If you don’t leave me alone, I will complain to Mr. Macklin!’

  She turned and walked on, leaving me staring after her.

  ‘Tough,’ a well-known voice said from behind me.

  I swung around to find Mazzo, smiling his ape-like smile.

  ‘Women are hell,’ he went on, ‘but she’s talking sense. She’s holding down a big job, Jerry, so think of her, and not of yourself.’

  I gaped at him. I never expected to hear this shaven headed ape come out with a sentiment of that kind.

  ‘Let’s go and have a drink,’ he said.

  Then I remembered I was looking at the man who had murdered Loretta.

  ‘Screw you and screw your drink,’ I said, and brushing by him, I walked to where I had parked the Merc. I sat behind the wheel, wrestling with my disappointment. Finally, I came to terms with myself.

  Sonia was lost to me. I guessed she was probably as lonely
as I was and been happy to accept my dinner invitation. Then Macklin had shown her the red light.

  The bitter truth was that I meant nothing to her except a night out.

  So what was I going to do with the evening and the night? I knew no one in this opulent city. I thought of the lonely cabin. To go back there and sit on my own was unthinkable. The idea of going to some restaurant and eat on my own was also unthinkable. I thought longingly of the people in Hollywood I could call: people I had had to drop, and who had dropped me because I had run out of money, but who would come flocking if they knew I was now earning one hundred thousand dollars a year.

  This mood quickly passed. Those fair weather friends weren’t worth a goddamn.

  So I sat there and brooded. Then out of the blue, an idea hit me. I had to find an occupation to keep my loneliness from swamping me. Why not write a detailed story of what I had experienced since Liz Martin, Lu Prentz’s secretary, had telephoned me, telling me Lu had a job for me.

  The luxury cabin would no longer be lonely. I would sit at a typewriter and write the frightening story of my impersonation of John Merrill Ferguson, the murders of Larry Edwards, Charles Duvine and Loretta, of Mrs. Harriet and her poodle, Mazzo and Durant. I would write it as a novel with changed names and with changed backgrounds. The only character I would call by his real name would be Lu Prentz. I knew he would love to be featured in a novel.

  It seemed to me the story was unique. I might have a big paperback sale! I might even sell the film rights, with me playing the lead!

  Writing the book as a novel, using fictionalized names, the Ferguson Corporation couldn’t object. No one would believe such a story could happen, but I would wait until my seven-year contract was up. I wasn’t going to give up one hundred thousand dollars a year. This novel would be an insurance for my old age!

  I would have to write it now while all the facts were fresh in my mind.

  The cabin would be the perfect place in which to write. No one would interrupt me. I would write all the morning, swim, construct the plot in the afternoon, then write again in the evening.