‘Get him inside while I fetch the car. He looks ill.’ I didn’t even pause to look at Rita. I wanted to, but the situation called for speed. I raced back to the car park and brought the car round to the reception hall entrance in four seconds flat.
‘Right, let’s get him in. He’d better travel in front. It’s warmer and not so draughty.’
Between us. Miss Robinson and I practically earned the little squirt to the car. Luckily I had brought a rug to cover the radiator and I wrapped him up in it as if he was a pneumonia case. Miss Robinson didn’t seem to like the way I took charge. She pushed me aside and leaned into the car.
‘Are you quite comfortable now, Mr. Sarek? If you’re not warm enough I can easily get you another rug.’
‘Is all right. I want to get home.’ Not quite so querulous, but still very sorry for himself. And he was so sorry for himself he forgot to tip her.
While we were fussing over him Rita got in the back. She tipped the man with the baggage, closed her purse with an impatient click and leaned back on the broken springs to stare out of the window.
I slid under the wheel.
‘I’ll keep the window shut if you think it’ll be too cold for you.’
‘Close it and get going. I want to go to bed. I am ill, you understand? Is on my chest.’
‘Oh shut up about your chest!
I turned my head to hide a grin. I bet she had had a rare time with him coming over. Her voice sounded exasperated.
‘Is all right for you to say shut up! Is easy to talk that way when you are not ill For three days I can’t breathe. Is my chest. And when do I sleep? Three nights I lie awake. And all you say is shut up!’
I was watching her in the driving minor. She started to say something, then stopped herself. Instead, she lit a cigarette and stared sullenly of of the window.
‘How did you catch cold, Mr. Sarek?’
‘Never mind. You get me home. Who cares whether I die or not? Don’t talk. I don’t want to listen.’
And he made it sound as if he hated my guts. When I looked into the mirror again there was a bitter, triumphant little smile on her lips.
She hadn’t been wasting any time.
He wanted a fire in his room and a hot water bottle.
While I was lighting the fire he said, ‘You better look out for another job, Mitchell. I lose money on this trip. I can’t afford to pay you for doing nothing.’
I sat back on my heels and looked at him.
‘But don’t you want someone to guard you, Mr. Sarek? Of course, I know I don’t appear to do much for what I’m getting, but it’s like paying an insurance premium. If anything did happen, then you’d be glad to have me around.’
He couldn’t meet my eyes.
‘Is practical joke. Mrs. Sarek is right. Three weeks and no more threats. Is waste of money. I can’t afford it.’
Wait until tomorrow, old pal, I thought. You’ll be singing a different tune tomorrow.
‘Well, all right. If you really want me to go I’ll look for something else. When do you think?’
‘In a week.’
I cleared up the hearth, then stirred the blazing coal with the poker.
‘I’ll certainly miss those games of chess.’
Even that one didn’t pay a dividend.
‘Put out the light. I want to rest.’
All right, you little vulture, I thought, if that’s how you feel about it. Just wait until tomorrow. You won’t be so cocky tomorrow.
I turned out the light.
‘If there’s anything you want, Mr. Sarek, rap on the wall. I sleep very lightly.’
I was going to make it easy for him to change his mind in the morning.
He grunted: not even a word of thanks.
‘I want to rest.’
‘I’ll see you’re not disturbed, Mr. Sarek.’
As I shut the door behind me I saw her coming up the stairs.
I was oozing soft soap by now. I tried a little on her just for the hell of it.
‘If you’d rather not cook tonight, Mrs. Sarek. I’ll prepare the supper.’
She looked past me, her face sullen.
‘I don’t want any supper. I’m going to bed.’
‘I told him if he wanted anything to call me tonight. I thought you wouldn’t want to be disturbed after your journey.’
She looked at me then. I managed to keep a straight face.
‘You’re trying very hard, aren’t you? Did he tell you he didn’t want you after this week?’
‘Yes; he mentioned it. But he’s not well. I didn’t pay much attention.’
An angry flush stained her face.
‘Well, you’re going just the same!’
I grinned at her.
‘Don’t bet on it, Mrs. Sarek.’
I went on down the stairs whistling softly, knowing she was staring blankly after me.
The telephone rang at nine o’clock the next morning. She was out in the paddock collecting the eggs, so I answered it.
‘I want to speak to Mr. Sarek.’
I didn’t have to be told who owned that whining voice.
‘Is that Miss Pearl?’
‘Yes. I want to speak to Mr. Sarek at once.’
‘Mr. Sarek’s in bed. He has a bad cold.’
‘Can’t he come to the ‘phone? It is very important.’
‘Mr. Sarek’s in bed. He has a bad cold. Are you deaf or is this one of your off days?’
‘Don’t talk that way to me!’
‘I’d just as soon not talk to you at all. Do you want to give him a message?’
‘Tell him I’m coming down to see him.’
‘Don’t do that, please! I’ll have to meet you at that station.’
‘Tell him I’m catching the nine forty-five train.’
She slammed down the receiver.
The note had arrived and she had read it. There could be no other reason for her to leave the office and come scuttling down here.
I went up to Sarek’s room, rapped on the door and entered. He was huddled up in bed, looking very sorry for himself. He had me up three times in the night, to get him a drink, to give him some Aspro and to make up the fire: in that order. He still looked as querulous as a wet hen.
‘Can’t you leave me alone? I am trying to sleep. What is it? What do you want?’
‘Miss Pearl just phoned. She says she’s coming down right away.’
That startled him. He half sat up, a look of alarm in his eyes, ‘Coming here?’
‘So she says. What do you want me to do? Fetch her or let her take a taxi?’
‘Go and meet her. Bring her back quick. Does she say why she is coming?’
‘She said it was very important, but she didn’t say why.’
‘Go and meet her then.’
I went to my room, slipped on a coat and ran down the stairs. Rita was coming up the path to the house as I opened the front door.
‘Where are you going?’
‘The little Pearl is on her way down. I’m meeting her at the station.’
Her face tightened. She pushed past me and went up the stairs.
I had had an idea there was no love lost between her and Emmie. Now I was certain of it.
Emmie came out of the station, clutching a briefcase under her arm. She had on a rabbit-skin coat and a black hat with a pheasant’s feather sticking out of it. She looked ugly enough to be in the Chamber of Horrors.
‘Good morning. Miss Pearl. I hope you had a pleasant journey.’
She gave me a cold, hard stare and got into the car. I slammed the door, went around to the other side of the car and slid under the wheel.
‘That’s a pretty hat you’re wearing. Did you shoot the pheasant or fall on it?’
She turned purple.
‘You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I get along one way or the other.’ I weaved the car through the bottleneck in the Broadway and hooted a bus out of my way.
‘Not as smart as you. Miss Pearl, but in my own little way and my own little sphere I get along all right.’
‘I hate you, Mitchell. If I can do you harm. I’m going to do it.’
Her voice squeaked with rage and spite.
‘Probably you won’t get the chance. Sarek’s given me the sack. I’m off at the end of the week. You’ll miss me, won’t you?’
I saw her fat, grubby hands clench into fists, and I grinned.
I knew she had read that note, and I knew she had a pretty shrewd idea how Sarek would react. I knew too it had been a temptation to destroy the note and not tell him about it so she would be sure of getting rid of me. If she hadn’t been gooey about him, she might have destroyed it, but she didn’t dare. He had to see it. He had to take precautions, even if it meant keeping me to guard him.
Writing that note was the smartest thing I had done up to now.
When Rita opened the front door and let Emmie in, I went to the barn and chopped wood for a couple of hours, taking it nice and easy and not exerting myself.
Although I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall and listened in to the commotion, I decided it would be better to keep out of the way. When Sarek wanted me - and I knew he would want me all right - he could send for me.
Those two would try to persuade him to get rid of me and find someone else to guard him. But I felt pretty sure I had played my cards right and nothing they could say would make him change his mind, once he decided he still had to have a guard. He wasn’t likely to forget how I handled Lehmann. He would remember the games of chess we had played together, and how well I had looked after him in the night. He would be smart enough to know it wouldn’t be easy to get someone as fast and as strong and as tough as I was, and combine chess and service as well.
I wasn’t surprised when, around noon, the local taxi turned up. I kept out of sight, but I didn’t miss a thing.
Emmie came out of the house. She looked ill and defeated. Her face was swollen and her eyes red with crying: even her feather had gone limp.
I watched her get in the taxi. I knew I had beaten her.
Sarek was so scared he wouldn’t let me drive her to the station.
That much was obvious. I was willing to bet that from now on he was going to stick to me closer than my shadow.
Ten minutes or so after the taxi had gone I heard a step behind me. I shouldered the axe and turned. She was within a few feet of me. She was pale, but she didn’t look defeated, and there was a glitter in her eyes I didn’t like.
‘He wants you.’
She spoke breathlessly as if she had been running.
We looked at each other for about three seconds, then she turned and walked out of the bam. There was something about the way she walked and the way she held herself that made me think of a wild cat.
I dropped the axe and took out my handkerchief to wipe my face. I wasn’t quite so sure of her now. I had expected her to say something. That three-second look had sent a chill up my spine.
I went up the stairs and found him propped up in bed, his face shiny with sweat, and there was panic in his little black eyes. He seemed to have shrivelled, and his lips were trembling.
His fingers picked at the blanket. I had meant to throw a scare into him, but this was more than a scare. I had ripped him wide open.
‘What’s wrong, Mr. Sarek?’
‘Frank...’
That was better. That was much more like it.
‘What’s upset you, Mr. Sarek?’
‘Read it...’
He tried to pick up the note that lay on the bedside table but his hand shook so he only succeeded in knocking it on the floor. I bent and picked it up. It made pretty good reading.
‘When did you get this?’
‘Emmie brought it. You stay with me, Frank. You understand?’
I could have made him crawl, but that wouldn’t have helped me in the long run.
‘Well of course, Mr. Sarek. You leave this to me. Just take it easy. No one’s going to get near you.’
‘You’re sure you can handle them, Frank?’
‘Certainly I can handle them. Don’t worry about it. If they really mean business they wouldn’t write these cockeyed notes. They’re trying to scare you. With me around you’re as safe as the King of England - safer.’
He licked his thin lips, but the panic in his eyes receded.
‘They want me to get rid of you. She keeps on and on about you. Is why I talk the way I talk last night. Is nothing. You understand? You forget about it, hey?’
‘That’s all right, Mr. Sarek. I knew you weren’t feeling well. As long as I’m of use to you I’ll be glad to stay.’
‘You stick by me.’
He stuck out his thin, trembling claw.
‘You won’t regret it, Frank.’
I shook hands with him.
I wished Rita had been there to have seen us.
I had been asleep for perhaps an hour when I woke up with a start. The room was as black as pitch. There wasn’t a sound, but I could smell her. The smell of musk was right by me.
My heart began to pound as I reached for the light switch.
‘Don’t turn on the light.’
‘What do you want?’
We whispered at each other through the darkness.
‘You wrote that letter, didn’t you?’
I tried to grin, but it didn’t come off.
‘Who else do you think wrote it?’
‘Why did you do it?’
‘I want to stay here. You shouldn’t have ganged up on me.’
‘Why do you want to stay here?’
I was having trouble with my breathing. Knowing she was within reach gave me a feeling of suffocation.
‘You know why. Ever since I first saw you I’ve wanted you. You know that. That’s why I wrote it. What are you going to do about it? Do you want me to tell him you wrote the other notes?’
Silence.
‘Well, do you?’
Silence.
I turned on the light. Sweat was running down my face, into my eyes, making them smart.
She had gone.
chapter eight
I scarcely slept that night. I was in two minds to follow her to her room and have it out with her, but I funked it. Although I knew I had her cornered, something warned me to be careful and cautious how I moved in to collect the payoff. She wasn’t the ordinary run of women. She was special, and needed special treatment.
I lay awake most of the night, thinking about her; and when I did doze of I dreamed about her: a dream that brought me upright in bed with my heart hammering and my hair damp with sweat.
I was thankful when it was time to get up. With Sarek out of the way in bed I would be able to tackle her. I would make her tell me why she had been sending those threatening letters, and let her know if she wanted me to keep quiet about them she would have to be a lot more friendly than she had been. But that idea was exploded when I walked into his room just after seven o’clock, expecting to find him still grizzling in bed. But he wasn’t. He was up and dressed. He looked pretty ill; his skin was yellowish, and his little black eyes were sunken and had dark smudges under them.
Like me, he hadn’t slept much.
‘Should you be up?’
‘How can I lie in bed? I can’t rest. Is too much on my mind.’
‘With that cold you should be in bed.’
‘I sit downstairs. Is too lonely up here.’
And I had thought I was going to have a free hand with him safely out of the way in bed. I could have strangled him.
As it turned out it was even worse than I had imagined.
Every time I tried to sneak into the kitchen to find her and tell her to meet me in the barn, he either yelled to me to come back or came running after me. He stuck to me like a flypaper until I nearly went nuts.
She kept out of my way, and I only saw her at meals. It seemed the understanding that no one talked at meals. She never did. In the be
ginning I tried to make conversation with Sarek, but he was too busy with his food to do more than grunt, so I let it go, and we raced through our meals in silence.
When he wasn’t looking my way I managed to give her a quick glance. She was as pokerfaced and stony eyed as ever, and met my eyes with her usual sullen indifference.
I’ve never spent such a day, and the thought that tomorrow would be as bad, that I should have him trailing after me wherever I went made me fit to walk up a wall.
Around five o’clock, I pulled the curtains and turned on the lights in the sitting room. Sarek was sitting before the blazing log fire, miserably polishing his great hooked hose and snivelling to himself ‘Well, I think I’ll have a walk round, Mr. Sarek. Just to make sure everything’s locked up.’
‘Make sure the barn door is fastened.’
‘I will.’
I scarcely believed my ears. He was actually letting me out of his sight without a fuss.
‘Frank...’
I paused at the door.
‘Yes?’
‘Can you use a gun?’
‘Certainly, I can use a gun. What of it?’
‘A revolver?’
‘Any damn thing that fires. Why?’
He crawled out of his chair and went over to the writing desk. From the bottom drawer he produced a .38 Colt revolver which he handed to me.
‘Is loaded.’
‘I don’t want this.’
‘Is better to have it. All right, maybe you don’t have to use it, but is a good thing to have, anyway.’
‘Have you a permit for it?’
‘No, but does not matter. Is all right.’
‘It isn’t all right if I shoot someone with it.’
‘Is not necessary to shoot anyone. Is only necessary to point it at them or if very bad, fire into the air.’
I turned the gun over in my hand. I have a weakness for guns. I like handling them. At one time I was a pretty useful shot. ‘Well, okay, if it makes you happy.’ I shoved the gun in my hip pocket. ‘I’ll have a look round.’
As I opened the door, he said ‘Tell Mrs. Sarek to come here. I don’t want to be left alone.’
‘She’s busy in the kitchen.’
1951 - In a Vain Shadow Page 7