1952 - The Wary Transgressor

by James Hadley Chase

  He blew smoke down his wide nostrils while he studied me.

  "I want you to take the rap for this, sergeant," he said. "Someone's got to take it. The Army can't do without me, but it can do without you."

  I had had a feeling something like that was coming.

  "This is murder, General," I said, trying to speak calmly. "I'm not taking a rap like that. You did it; you've got to foot the bill."

  He got up and went back to the whisky bottle, poured himself another drink and returned to his chair.

  "The Army comes first, sergeant," he said, sitting down. "Now, listen. I like you. I wouldn't be talking like this to you if I didn't like you. You're a good fella. You're the best damned sergeant I've ever met. That's why I'm giving you a chance to live. If I didn't like you, I should have put a bullet in you as you went to look in that room. I should then have called the police and told them I had found you here. I should have told them you had stolen my car. I followed you here. I came in just after you had killed her, and you attacked me so I had to shoot you. And because I am who I am, they would have believed me."

  I sat staring at him, a cold chill crawling up my spine.

  "So you'll either agree to take the rap or I'll have to shoot you, sergeant. Now, don't get scared. If you agree to take the rap and keep your mouth shut, I'll fix it you get away. I'll give you money and an hour's start. After an hour I'll call the police and tell them you are responsible for the mess in the other room. How do you feel about it?"

  "You can't do it!" I said shakily. "You couldn't get away with it."

  "Don't be a damned fool!" he snapped, his eyes hardening. "Of course I can get away with it. Sergeants are ten a dime. You're no use to the war, and I am. Make up your mind!"

  "But they'll know it is you!" I said feverishly. "You talked to the girl at the night club. You must have been seen."

  He shook his head.

  "I didn't talk to her. All I had to do was to raise my thumb. No one saw me do it, and that was all I had to do for her to grab her coat and come running after me." He took something out of his pocket and held it up between finger and thumb. "I took your identity tag when you were cleaning the car, sergeant. You shouldn't leave it lying around. They'll find it by the bed. That's all they'll need. That and my evidence." He stood up abruptly, the gun pointing at me. "Going to be shot now or will you take a chance of beating the rap?"

  I remembered his great strength. Even if I did manage to get the gun from him I knew I couldn't lick him in a fight. I knew too, looking at his set, blank face, I was within a heartbeat of being shot.

  "I'll take the rap," I said.

  He relaxed, nodded and smiled.

  "I'm glad, sergeant. I' wouldn't want to shoot you. You can beat it if you use your head. I'll give you enough money to see you through. Now listen to me. Take the car and drive as fast as you can to Perugia. Leave the car there. Make for Rome. You'll have to go on foot, and keep of the main roads. Once you get to Rome, you'll be safe. I'll tell them you were in uniform. They won't think of looking for you dressed like you are. You can stay hidden until this blows over, and it will blow over pretty soon. In a few days the fighting's going to stop, and the Italians will be too busy putting their house in order to bother to look for you."

  He took out his wallet, counted out ten ten-thousand lira notes, screwed them into a ball and tossed them into my lap.

  "That should hold you. Now, get going..."

  "My unit will think I've deserted ..." I began.

  "Don't talk crap," he said. "Your unit will know you've killed a woman. They won't expect you back. Now, get going. You have an hour from now. Every second you waste talking puts a noose around your neck."

  I stood up and began to move to the door.

  The Beretta covered me all the way.

  "Don't think you'll get away with this," I said.

  "I'll get away with it," he said, and smiled. "Now, get going."

  I opened the door and began the long, blind walk down the dark stairs.

  chapter seven

  As I drove along the narrow road that skirted the Lago and would eventually bring me to Arolo, I thought how lucky I had been that the surrender of the German armies in Italy had hit the headlines at the same time as the woman's body had been discovered. The German surrender had crowded out all other news.

  From what I could make out from two small, separate paragraphs in a newspaper I got hold of, the General hadn't telephoned the police. He had waited until I had gone, then had left my identity tag by the bed, and had walked back to the hotel.

  He had reported to the police that his car had been stolen, and had telephoned to Major Kay, telling him I had deserted. It was three days before the body was found. By then the General was back in Bologna. He was never even questioned about the murder.

  I hadn't been in any danger. I had already reached Rome by the time the Italian police began a disorganized search for me.

  In Rome I met Torrchi, who was picking pockets in St. Peter's.

  It was he who suggested I should become a guide, and found me a room next to the one he shared with Simona.

  I had told him I had deserted from the Army: an explanation that satisfied his curiosity. He had deserted from the Italian Army himself months ago, and considered no sane man would remain in any Army longer than he could help.

  At that time there were scarcely any newspapers to be had, and the one I did find contained only a small paragraph about the murder and another about the General losing his car.

  The paragraph covering the murder stated the police were looking for Sergeant David Chesham, who they thought could help them in solving the mystery.

  As the police were apparently looking for Sergeant Chesham, I thought it safe to continue to use my own name, and I was satisfied few people would remember that small paragraph.

  Thinking about it now as I drove along the narrow road, It didn't seem possible that this had happened to me six years ago.

  For the first four years I had been content to remain in Italy, earning a living as a guide, and moving from town to town, collecting information for my book.

  Then I began to think of the opportunities I was missing, and longed to get back to my home country. I began to investigate the possibilities of getting hold of a faked passport, but the price made it impossible.

  When I reached Arolo I left the car in the wooden lean-to and went up to my bedroom.

  For the first time in six years I was scared.

  How Laura had found out that I was a fugitive I couldn't imagine. But she knew, and apparently I had been in her power without being aware of it ever since we had first met.

  My immediate reaction was to pack my bag and bolt, but after a little thought I decided that wouldn't solve my problem.

  If I did go, she might tell the police who I was, and the hunt would be on again. This time it would be very different. The police were organized now, and my chances of escaping from them would be slender indeed.

  I came to the conclusion that I had better wait and see what she was going to do; how she could make use of her information.

  Until I knew that, I couldn't afford to make a move myself.

  The following day was Sunday. Laura had suggested we should meet that evening. I decided it would be safer now to meet her than to put her off! It was possible she might come out into the open, and then I could decide what to do.

  I didn't see her during the morning. In the afternoon I read to Bruno as usual.

  Nurse Fleming reminded me that she was leaving first thing on Monday morning for her usual day and night of.

  "Mrs. Fancino looks after him while I am away," she told me. "She understands what to do for him. There is nothing extra for you to do."

  Laura appeared at tea time, looking pale, with smudges under her eyes. She came up to me as I was walking along the path on my way back to my room.

  "Hello, David," she said, and smiled up at me. "Am I seeing you tonight?"

  "Yes.
"

  I looked at her, but there was nothing in her eyes that told me she was planning anything.

  "I'm glad. We'll meet at the boathouse about nine. I don't want to be too late tonight."

  "I'll be there."

  "I'm looking forward to it."

  She turned away and sauntered back towards the villa.

  * * *

  Now that we were going to meet again, the thought of having to make love to her sickened me.

  My mad infatuation for her was now as dead as last year's snow, and I knew it would never come back. She had said she didn't want to be late, and that might mean she didn't expect me to make love to her. If she did, I was determined to have a showdown with her. Anything was better than pretending to be in love with her anymore.

  A few minutes to nine o'clock I got into Bicci's boat and rowed over to the boathouse.

  She was coming down the steps from the villa as I pulled into the harbour.

  "Hello, David," she said gaily. "You're punctual."

  There was that look in her eyes that had caused all the trouble; only now it made me feel a little sick.

  "Hello," I said, and got out of the boat. "Shall we talk here? It'll be cooler than indoors."

  "Think of the mosquitoes! I don't want to be bitten alive. Of course we must go in."

  She went ahead of me, and I followed.

  She was wearing a thin, crepe-de-Chine dress, and by the way it clung to her body, little else besides. She ran up the stairs, unlocked the door, and went across the room to throw open the windows.

  "Give me a drink, David. A big whisky, and have one yourself."

  I made two drinks, and brought them over to her. She took one, touched glasses with me, and smiled into my eyes.

  "It seems ages since we've been alone together, doesn't it?"

  "I guess it does."

  "Have you missed me, David?"

  I hesitated for a second, then took the plunge. I had to stop this before it got started.

  "Do we have to pretend, Laura?" I said.

  She raised her eyebrows as if surprised.

  "Why, David, what's the matter?"

  "You know as well as I do."

  She wandered over to the bed and sat on it, drawing up one slim leg under her. She raised her face, showing me the column of her white throat.

  "Don't be silly, darling. Come and kiss me."

  "If you want to be kissed, why don't you go over to the Pescatori," I said, not moving.

  She sat very still, her eyes suddenly hard, her mouth tight shut.

  "What do you mean by that, David?"

  "The only person you're kidding is yourself."

  "I suppose you have been spying on me?"

  I nodded.

  "Yes, I've been spying on you. It's an old custom on the Lago. You said so yourself." I lit a cigarette and carefully put the burned match into the box. "I was curious to see what your friend Helen was like. I had no idea she had hair on her chest and smoked cigars."

  For a moment I thought she was going to throw herself at me.

  She looked like an enraged tigress. Then she controlled herself with an effort. She crossed her slim legs, pulled down her skirt over her knees and put down her glass of whisky.

  Every movement was slow and deliberate. But I wasn't kidded.

  She was giving herself time to recover. I really had socked one in under her guard.

  "I think we had better talk this over," she said in a cold, flat voice.

  "Just as you like."

  I looked steadily at her, but I was sweating a little, knowing she had the whiphand if she wanted to play it that way.

  "I don't like spies, David."

  "I don't like them myself," I said, "but since you assured me you loved me, I felt entitled to find out who your spare-time lover was, and I did find out. I discovered I am your spare-time lover, and Bellini is still your old and trusted one. Why did you get rid of him for me if you were not going to stick to me?"

  "How do you know he's Bellini?" she demanded angrily.

  "He happens to be a well-known character in Milan. He's been in prison three times. He is a murderer and a professional thug, and he's not above living on street women. I can't say much for your choice, but no doubt he has his particular charm."

  Red stained her face, and her eyes blazed at me.

  "Is he any worse than you?" she said. "At least he doesn't cut women to pieces, nor did he run away from the Army when he should be fighting. He's not that kind of a coward."

  "I thought we were bound to come around to that before long," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Torrchi told me you had been doing a little spying on your own account. It's a pity you haven't got your facts right."

  She stood up.

  "I'm quite satisfied with my facts, David. There's no need for you to look so frightened. I don't intend to give you away. I'm sorry I called you a coward just now. I didn't mean it."

  "You still want to get your facts right," I said. "I didn't kill her."

  "Oh, but you did, David. I found out about you years ago. Perhaps you remember Major Kay? At one time he and I were very good friends. He told me about you. He showed me your photograph and told me what you had done. You were quite a sensation at Bologna for a time. Then when I saw you outside the Duomo I recognized you."

  "So that explains why you appeared so interested in me. You imagined you had found just the man to murder your husband, didn't you?"

  "You don't imagine I'm in the habit of throwing myself at any down-at-the-heel loafer I see, do you, unless I have a very good reason?"

  "If Bellini is anyone to judge by, that's exactly what I do think, Laura."

  She laughed.

  "You're not going to make me angry, David. Now we are on the subject, why did you kill that woman?"

  "I didn't kill her," I said. "If you knew Major Kay, you have probably heard of General Costain. He killed her and framed the killing on me."

  "Then why don't you tell the police? I'm sure they'll believe you, even if I don't."

  "All right, forget it," I said impatiently. "I didn't kill her, but I don't expect you or the police to believe me. Why didn't Bellini murder Bruno? Why did you bother with me when you had Bellini to do your dirty work?"

  She moved over to the window and sat on the window seat.

  "You have no idea, David, how very stupid Mario is. At one time I did think he might be able to do it, but after I had discussed it with him I realized he was bound to make a mistake. He isn't clever like you. Sometimes I wonder if he has a brain at all. He would do something ghastly, and implicate me. So I didn't ask him. I asked you instead."

  I studied her.

  "So you really mean to get rid of Bruno?"

  "Oh, yes; when the right man and the right opportunity comes along I shall certainly get rid of him. He's completely useless. He's treated me very badly, and I want my freedom and his money."

  "You're a coldblooded bitch, aren't you?" I said.

  She smiled.

  "I suppose I am, David, but I'm patient. I've waited four years now. I'm prepared to wait another four years."

  "Well, you can count me out," I said. "Your schemes to drag me into this are not going to work."

  "Don't be too sure," she said. "Suppose I said to you, 'David, get rid of Bruno or I'll tell the police where to find you.' What would you say to that?"

  "I'd tell you to go to hell," I said evenly.

  She half turned to look at me.

  "I wonder if you would. Well, never mind. I'm not going to put it to a test. Shall we break up the party? I'm tired."

  "I'm clearing out when Valeria arrives," I said quietly.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  "I don't think you can afford to take that attitude, David. It would be safer for you to wait until I told you to go."

  "Go ahead and tell me to go."

  "I'll think about it. Good night, David."

  I let her get as far as the door, then I said, "Wai
t a minute, Laura."

  She turned, her eyes suddenly wary.

  "What is it?"

  "Two can play at blackmailing," I said evenly. "I'm leaving when Valeria arrives, and there's nothing you can do about it if you think a moment. If you give me away to the police, I shall give you away to Dr. Perelli. I know I haven't such a good case as you have. I know it's your word against mine, but I'll make him suspicious. I'll tell him you're planning to murder Bruno. I'll tell him I'm your lover, and I'll tell him Bellini's your lover too. He's no fool. He doesn't like you. If he made enquiries he would get enough evidence. You haven't covered your tracks all that cleverly. He would take care nothing happened to Bruno. He even might find some way of changing the will. So watch your step, Laura. Blackmailers shouldn't have secrets. They leave themselves open to a counterpunch."

  She stood motionless, her eyes glittering, her face a blank mask.

  "Good night, David," she said, and went out, closing the door behind her.

  I hadn't won a victory, but at least I had pulled of a stalemate.

  The following morning, after she had prepared Bruno for the day, Nurse Fleming went off to Milan.

  It seemed odd not to have her bustling about, although Maria attempted to deputize for her by continually coming into the sickroom while I waited for Laura to take over.

  When Laura finally did come in, she scarcely looked at me, and I left her with Bruno and went down to the harbour. I spent the morning cleaning the boat.

  It was almost lunchtime when I had finished, and on my way up to the villa I saw Laura coming towards me.

  "Valeria will be arriving at midday tomorrow," she said, her eyes not meeting mine. "I want you to meet the train. Take the boat. She prefers to come across the Lago."

  "All right," I said.

  Then she looked at me. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were hostile.

  "And, David, I've been thinking about what you said last night. I've decided to let you go if you want to. I shouldn't like to think I was keeping you here against your will."

  "That's very nice of you, Laura," I said. "I had an idea you wouldn't want Dr. Perelli to be an arbitrator between us. Don't imagine you can give me away after I've gone. Dr. Perelli would visit me in jail if I gave him an idea what I wanted to talk to him about."