1952 - The Wary Transgressor

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1952 - The Wary Transgressor Page 7

by James Hadley Chase


  "We might."

  I wondered what it would be like to be married to her. I had no idea what she was like behind that mask of hers. I wondered too, if she were free to marry, if I would want to marry her.

  "Does money mean anything to you, David?" she asked abruptly.

  "Of course it does. I've always wanted money, but so far I've never come within sight of it. Why do you ask?"

  "I was wondering what you'd be prepared to do for a lot of money."

  "Prepared to do? What do you mean?"

  She turned on her side, and her hand moved slowly down my arm while she tried to see my face in the dim light.

  "Would you take risks? I believe everyone has his price, don't you? I know I'd be prepared to do anything if the money was big enough."

  I had a sudden instinctive feeling that I was moving out on to dangerous ground; like a blind man who becomes aware that he is at the edge of a riverbank, and one more step will take him into the water.

  "I wouldn't like to say I'd do anything," I said, trying to speak lightly. "But I suppose it would depend on the amount involved."

  "Yes." Her fingers moved across my chest. "Suppose it was three hundred million lire."

  I drew in a sharp breath. I hadn't been thinking in those terms.

  Three hundred million lire was worth about two hundred thousand pounds.

  "Is there such a sum?"

  "Bruno's estate is worth about that: probably a little more. Then there's this villa. You see, David, if I were free and the money was mine, and if you wanted to marry me, I'd give you half of it: a hundred and fifty million. I don't suppose we could take it out of the country, but you could start a business in Milan or Rome. If you wanted to, you could pay me back when you had made a success of it, or better still, I could be your partner. I'd like that, David. It would give me an interest in life."

  "I had no idea you are going to be as rich as all that," I said, blankly. "Are you sure all this money will be left to you when he dies?"

  "Yes, I've seen the will. There is even more to come, but some of it goes to his daughter. I inherit two-thirds and she a third of his total fortune."

  "I didn't know he had a daughter."

  "His first wife died three or four years before I met him. His daughter's about nineteen. She's in England at the moment, completing her education."

  "Is she coming back here?"

  "Perhaps; I don't know. Three hundred million, David! Isn't it an exciting prospect?"

  "I don't see how we can build castles, Laura. He may go on for years."

  "I know." The red tip of her cigarette bobbed up and down in the darkness. "It seems dreadful he should have to go on living. After all, he can't get any fun out of life."

  I didn't say anything.

  "I dreamed he was dead," she said, after a long pause.

  "Well, he's not," I said curtly. "Let's forget about it, Laura."

  "Do you realize his life is really hanging on a thread?" she went on as if she hadn't heard me. "If, one day when you were lifting him, he slipped and fell to the floor, he would die."

  "He's not likely to slip when I'm handling him," I said.

  "Accidents do happen." Again her cool fingers passed over my bare chest. "Three hundred million is a lot of money, David: half for you, half for me."

  "What are you suggesting, Laura?" I asked sharply.

  "Don't you think it would be an act of mercy to let him slip?"

  I couldn't believe she was serious. She couldn't be! She was so quiet and cool, and her voice was normal, her hand played with mine, and yet she was suggesting I should murder her husband.

  "You mean it would be an act of mercy if he accidentally fell?" I said. "Why talk about it? It's not likely to happen."

  "But, darling, must you be so dense? You could let him slip as you lifted him, couldn't you?"

  I was now having trouble in breathing. It was time, I decided, to sock it into her as hard as I could.

  "It would be murder, Laura."

  Her fingers played a swift little scale along my arm.

  "Don't be silly, David, of course it wouldn't. If you must call it something, call it a mercy killing. If a horse breaks its leg, you shoot it, don't you?"

  "I'd like to see the judge's face when you told him that."

  "Judge? What's a judge got to do with it?"

  "Plenty. It would be murder, Laura. Can't you see that?"

  "What does it matter what it is?" she asked a little impatiently. "Who would know? Most men wouldn't hesitate. Three hundred million would buy a lot of things, and besides, darling, I keep telling you, it would be so much better for Bruno."

  "Would it buy my life if I were caught?" I asked. "Would it save you from being made an accessory before the fact? I'm damned sure three hundred million wouldn't foot that bill!"

  "Don't get so worked up. I keep telling you—no one would know. It would be an accident."

  "Oh, yes, they would!" I leaned over and snapped on the light.

  I looked at her. She blinked up at me, a little smile on her full, scarlet lips, her hands covering her breasts, her copper-coloured hair spread out on the pillow.

  "Must you put on the light?" she asked plaintively.

  "Listen to me!" I said harshly. "The motive sticks out a mile! That's all the police ever need—a good motive! They would only have to see this room to know we're lovers. Don't kid yourself that Maria and Nurse Fleming would keep their mouths shut. They'd tell them I used this place. We wouldn't stand a chance!"

  "David! You're shouting at me." She shielded her eyes from the light. "Please put out the light."

  "No! I don't know if you realize what you've been saying—I hope you haven't—but if you're serious, you and I are going to part company. Now, tell me: are you serious?"

  "Why, David, you're quite upset. Serious—about what?"

  "You suggested I should murder Bruno. Did you mean that?"

  “Must you put it so crudely?" She frowned up at me. "He's nearly dead now. You can't call it murder, darling. If you let him slip..."

  I got of the bed and grabbed up my dressing gown.

  "So you do mean it?"

  "Of course I don't. I'm a little tempted perhaps." She sat up, staring at me, her arms folded over her breasts. "It is tempting, isn't it, darling? I want my freedom so badly now I've met you, and then there's all that money, but I suppose I'm not really serious. Of course if you tried very hard to persuade me, and you said you would let him slip, I don't think I would try to stop you."

  "I'm not going to persuade you! And you'd better get those ideas out of your mind. Don't imagine you would get away with it, because you damn' well wouldn't!"

  "Please don't get angry, David, I wouldn't have said what I did if I thought you'd get so upset."

  "It'd be murder! Can't you get that into your head? Bruno has as much right to live as you have!"

  She shook her head.

  "I don't agree, darling, but I won't argue with you about it. I was talking without thinking."

  "If someone overheard you . . ."

  "Yes, I suppose it would have sounded bad. But no one did overhear me. It must have been that dream. I dreamed Bruno died. It was so easy in the dream. I won't talk about it anymore. I'll be patient."

  "You'd better be!"

  I walked over to the window and stared across the moonlit Lago.

  "You'd better go to sleep," I said. "It's still early."

  "I don't think I'll be able to sleep now. I think I'll go back to the villa. If we did drop off, we might oversleep. Would you mind, darling, if I go now?"

  I wouldn't have believed three hours ago I should have been so glad to be rid of her.

  "No. Perhaps it would be safer if you went now."

  "That's right." She smiled brightly at me. "You believe in safety, don't you, David?"

  "We won't go into that."

  "No."

  She slipped of the bed. I didn't watch her dress. I kept my back turned to her and rem
ained at the window.

  "You're not angry with me, David?"

  I turned.

  "No, of course not. It's all right."

  "I'm glad. I only want you to be happy."

  "Yes."

  "I'll come again soon."

  "Yes."

  She didn't move towards me. We were suddenly strangers. At the door, she paused to blow me a kiss. Her big violet eyes were expressionless. Her smile was stiff. I suddenly realized I wasn't the only one who wanted to be alone.

  I didn't sleep anymore that night.

  chapter four

  The next morning, after I had finished my routine work, I went down to the garage to clean the big Alfa-Romeo six-seater. My brain works better when my hands are busy, and I had a lot to think about.

  Laura had jarred me badly last night, but thinking about what had happened in the daylight, it seemed impossible that she had been serious.

  After she had left me, I had been ready to believe she was serious. I had even decided she had deliberately picked on me to murder her husband, and that was why she had thrown herself at me in the Duomo.

  But now, in the bright light of the sun, I realized how darkness distorts the mind, and I convinced myself she couldn't have been serious.

  I went over our conversation in my mind. She had been so relaxed and calm. She couldn't have realized what she had been saying. No one could have been so unmoved who was deliberately planning a coldblooded murder.

  No, she couldn't have meant what she had said. It was the kind of loose, meaningless talk that sometimes comes out of darkness that you wouldn't own to in the daylight.

  But it worried me. It had left a maggot in my mind.

  She had talked of three hundred million lire. Half to you, she had said, and half to me.

  I thought of what I could do with that sum of money. I could buy a passport. I would be free again. I wouldn't have to cross the road every time I saw a policeman.

  You could let him slip, couldn't you? she had said.

  Yes, I could let him slip. It would be easy. He would fall on the mosaic floor. I thought of his brittle, emaciated body. He wouldn't suffer. A fall like that would kill him quicker than a bullet through his head.

  I felt sweat on my face.

  Now, every time I lifted him it would go through my mind that I had only to let him slip and I would collect one hundred and fifty million lire.

  She had left a maggot in my mind all right.

  But it would be murder, and I wasn't going to do it. I wasn't even going to think about it.

  I paused in my polishing to wipe the sweat from my face.

  "Oh, David . . ."

  She gave me such a start I dropped the tin of polish as I spun round.

  She was in her white swimsuit, her bathing cap in her long, slim fingers. Her face was a little pale, and there were smudges tinder her eyes. She gave me an uneasy, hesitant smile.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

  "I guess my nerves are jumpy this morning," I said, and bent to pick up the tin of polish. "You certainly came up like a ghost."

  "I have some shopping to do in Laveno. Is the boat ready?"

  "Yes."

  "I want you to come with me. There'll be things to carry. Will you be ready in an hour?"

  "Yes."

  She turned and walked with her long, graceful stride down the steps to the swimming pool.

  I stood looking after her, feeling a creepy sensation run up my spine and into the roots of my hair.

  She came down the harbour steps, looking very cool and lovely in an apple-green frock and a big straw hat. Her white net gloves and white shoes set of the frock, and made her look like an expensive mannequin about to model for Vogue.

  "I'll take her," she said as I started the engine, and she sat in the bucket seat in front of the wheel. I sat just behind her.

  She drove expertly, sending the boat along at a fast clip, and keeping close to the shore. We passed Reno, and then Cerro, then she suddenly closed the throttle, and turned the nose of the boat towards a little cove, sheltered by overhanging willow trees. She ran the boat in under them, and let the nose of the boat bump gently against the bank. She turned and faced me.

  "I had to talk to you this morning, David."

  "I thought you would want to," I said, and waited.

  "We were like strangers last night: it was horrible."

  "We got on to a pretty horrible subject."

  "You don't really believe I want to get rid of Bruno?"

  "I know what you said, Laura."

  "What I said and what I meant are two different things."

  "I hope so."

  She studied me anxiously.

  "Have I spoilt everything for us, David?"

  "You certainly jarred me."

  "But I didn't mean it! Please believe me, darling. Nothing is going to happen to Bruno. Even if you said this very moment you would do something, I wouldn't let you, and if you did, I'd never forgive you."

  "You don't have to worry about me. I'm not going to do anything like that. It's not my idea of fun to murder a helpless man."

  "That's right. It's not my idea of fun either."

  "Let's forget it, Laura."

  "It was my dream that did it, darling. It was such a vivid dream. You were lifting him. Dr. Perelli and Nurse Fleming were in the room, and so was I. As you lifted him from the chair, something went wrong; you stumbled. Dr. Perelli called out. Bruno fell head down on the floor. You had hold of his legs; his head hit the…"

  "Shut up!" I said, grabbing hold of her arm. "I don't want to hear!"

  She stared at me, and a curious expression came into her eyes, an inquisitive, excited look, as if she wanted to peer inside my mind and see what was in there.

  "Oh, David, I don't know what's come over you," she said. "Why do you shout at me like that?"

  "Was I shouting?" I let go of her arm. "I'm sorry."

  "You woke me up, didn't you? You knew I was dreaming, and I wasn't really awake when I started talking the way I did. I was putting my dream into words."

  "Let's drop it, Laura," I said. "There's no point in driving it into the ground."

  "But I want it to be all right with us, David."

  "It is all right."

  "You frightened me last night when you said you would leave me. You're not going away?"

  "I wasn't planning to go away."

  "I was so worried. Please tell me, David, you do believe now I wouldn't want to hurt Bruno."

  "Yes, I believe you."

  "I wish you sounded more convinced," she said, uneasily. "I wish I could prove it to you. Now look, David, if I really intended to get rid of Bruno, I should now have to get rid of you first, shouldn't I? I would be suggesting you went away because I should have to find someone else, and you would be in the way, wouldn't you? But I don't want to get rid of Bruno, and I want you to stay with me more than I want anything else in the world. So please tell me you're convinced."

  "I keep telling you to forget it."

  She sat looking at me.

  "Is it all right, David?"

  "Yes, it's all right."

  She leaned towards me, raising her face, so I kissed her. Her lips felt soft and alive against mine. Her arms went round my neck.

  "Dear David, I don't know what I would do without you."

  I pulled away from her.

  "I'm not going to live in the boathouse any more, Laura."

  Alarm jumped into her eyes. "But why, darling?"

  "It puts a label on us. We were crazy to have started it. I'm going to get a room in the village like Bellini did."

  "But then we won't be together at night."

  "We can meet at the boathouse, but I'm not living in it anymore. I've made up my mind about that."

  Again she gave me that inquisitive, probing look.

  "So you remember what you said last night?" she asked. "You said all the police wanted was a good motive. They would only have to see the boat
house to know we were lovers."

  "I know what I said."

  "You're not afraid of the police, are you, David?"

  I had to make an effort to meet her eyes, but I did it.

  "I'm not afraid of them. I just don't feel comfortable living in that place. It's too luxurious."

  "All right, darling, but won't you hate having a room in the village? It won't be much."

  "I'm used to roughing it."

  "Well, if you're determined, I can't stop you. This doesn't mean we won't spend nights together?"

  "No."

  "I don't think we'd better stay here any longer. I've a lot of shopping to do in Laveno."

  "Okay, let's go."

  "And it is all right with us, darling?"

  "It's all right."

  ***

  When we got back from Laveno there was a telegram waiting for Laura. I was carrying in the box of groceries as she opened it, and I heard her surprised exclamation.

  "It's Valeria," she said in a whisper. "She's coming here next Tuesday."

  Maria came out of the kitchen at that moment to ask if Laura had seen the telegram.

  "Yes, thank you. It's from Valeria. She is coming home next Tuesday."

  Maria's face lit up, and she clasped her hands with delight.

  "Signor Bruno will be so pleased!"

  "I expect he will," Laura said indifferently, then turning to me, she went on, "I'm afraid you'll have to find a room in the village. I shall want the boathouse for myself now signorina Valeria is coming."

  "Yes, signora."

  Laura looked over at Maria.

  "Do you know where he can get a room, Maria?"

  "Perhaps at the garage," Maria said. "Gianni Bicci told me he wanted to rent a room."

  "You could try there, David," Laura said, and walked across the hall and into Bruno's room.

  I heard her say, "Valeria's coming home, Bruno. I wished she had given me a little more notice. I thought she wasn't coming back until September."

  The door closed, and I went into the kitchen and put down the box of groceries.

  "Where do I find Bicci?" I asked Maria as she began to empty the box.

 

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