1975 - Believe This You'll Believe Anything

by James Hadley Chase

  ‘I shouldn’t think so. Okay, I’ll do that. When your messenger has delivered the vouchers, tell him to come on here. I’ve got more business for you and Dyer wants the schedules in a rush.’

  Massingham swore under his breath.

  ‘Now I can understand why A.E. consider him a nuisance.’

  ‘It’s a good order. You’ll like it when you see it.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll get the schedules to you by tomorrow morning,’ and he hung up.

  I telexed the San Salvador agency. They replied that they would have everything laid on for the Vidals when they arrived and a chauffeur-guide to work with me.

  It wasn’t until 17.40 that I was able to leave my office and welcome Olson, As we shook hands, he grinned at me.

  ‘Nice seeing you again Clay,’ he said. ‘How long is it? Six years?’

  ‘About that. How are you fixed. Bill? Where are you sleeping tonight?’

  Olson looked over at Sue who was clearing her desk.

  ‘That wonderful girl has already hired me a furnished apartment on Biscayne Avenue.’

  ‘That’s right by my place. Look, Bill let me clear my desk and we’ll go back to my apartment for a drink and dinner. I want you to meet Rhoda, my wife.’

  ‘Fine. There are just a couple of things I have to tie up, then I’ll be ready.’

  Rhoda always came alive when we had guests. She and Olson got on well together. I could see he was impressed by her prettiness and her smart clothes. I thought a little sourly, as I mixed a batch of martinis, he would have a shock if he saw her over the weekend when she slopped around the apartment without makeup, her hair looking like a bird’s nest and in grubby jeans and grubbier sweater It was while I was pouring the drinks, Olson said casually, ‘Did you ever see Val again after she walked out on us?’

  I spilt a little of the drink and without looking up, I said, ‘No, nor heard from her.’

  Rhoda reached for some peanuts.

  ‘Who is Val?’ she asked curiously.

  Olson grinned.

  ‘Do you mean your hubby never told you about Val Dart?’

  ‘He never tells me anything.’ Rhoda pouted and took the glass I handed to her. ‘What’s so special about her?’

  ‘You imagine I never tell you anything,’ I said, handing Olson his glass, ‘the fact is you never listen to anything I say.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you told me about her because I know you didn’t!’ There was a snap in her voice now.

  ‘She wouldn’t interest you anyway. She happened to be my secretary when I was at the Statler Hilton before you arrived,’ I said, trying to sound casual. ‘Here’s to you. Bill.’

  We drank, then Olson said, ‘And what a secretary! The most efficient, smart, gorgeous girl it’s been my luck to work with!’

  I could see Rhoda hated this. Anyone praising any woman made her bristle.

  Looking directly at me, she said, ‘I bet you loved her. Efficiency is your middle name.’

  ‘Is it?’ I walked over to the window and looked down at the canal. I loved her all right. I still loved her.

  ‘I honestly don’t know why Clay married me,’ Rhoda said to Olson. ‘He’s always telling me how inefficient I am. He nags me from morn to night. Pity he didn’t marry this Val who seems to be so gorgeous and efficient.’

  The acid note in her voice made Olson look uncomfortable.

  ‘I can’t imagine you being inefficient, Mrs. Burden,’ he said awkwardly.

  I wasn’t going to support him. There was a pause, then Rhoda said, ‘Who cares anyway about efficiency? I think it’s a great big bore. Who wants to mess around this apartment when we can get some old cow to do it? When you’re through gaping out of the window Clay, how about a refill?’

  Again an awkward pause while I freshened the drinks, then Olson said, ‘Sue was telling me about the Vidal account. You’ve certainly helped yourself to some trouble, haven’t you Clay?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Massingham does all the work. I just listen to the complaints. I can take a lot of that.’ I turned to Rhoda. ‘That reminds me, honey, you’re going to be a grass widow for six days next week.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I told her about the El Salvador trip.

  I could see she was nonplussed. This would be the first time we had separated since we married.

  ‘How about me?’ Her voice shot up. ‘How am I going to get to work and home again?’

  ‘The bus stops right outside both ways.’

  ‘Bus! Who wants to use the smelly bus?’

  ‘I’ll be happy to drive you, Mrs. Burden,’ Olson said. ‘No problem. I’d be glad to.’

  She flashed him a smile.

  ‘Clay never considers me. Thanks, Bill. I may call you Bill? You call me Rhoda.’

  ‘Fine.’

  I wasn’t surprised when she turned on me.

  ‘So you’re going away with that Vidal hag! She’s just the type to try to drag you into her bed!’

  I never have lost my temper with Rhoda no matter how irritating she was, but this time, I had to make an effort to control it.

  ‘Come on, honey, let’s skip this nonsense. I have a job to do, so there’s no point in moaning.’

  ‘I bet you’ll enjoy it thinking of me slaving in that damn boutique.’

  ‘Come the day when you do some slaving.’ I turned to Olson who was looking embarrassed. ‘Hungry?’

  ‘I guess. Whenever you say.’

  ‘Are you ready, Rhoda?’

  ‘No, I’m not!’

  She got to her feet and walked into the bedroom, slamming the door.

  Olson and I looked at each other.

  ‘Women!’ I forced a smile.

  ‘Yeah.’ A pause, then he said, ‘Nice place you have here.’ He moved out on to the balcony. ‘Marvellous view.’

  ‘That’s a fact.’

  With an obvious attempt to change the subject, Olson said, ‘This guy Vidal . . . quite a man of mystery.’

  ‘Would you call him that? He’s certainly loaded.’

  ‘He hadn’t much five years ago. He used to be a client of mine at the Statler Hilton. In those days, he could only afford economy class. He wanted a checking account with us, but his credit rating wasn’t sound.’

  I stared at him.

  ‘How come Massingham didn’t know that?’

  ‘I guess I didn’t report it to New York. I checked with Credit Rating and they said better not, so I turned Vidal down. It never got on our records.’

  ‘But Massingham has checked the Credit Rating people.’

  Olson laughed.

  ‘This was five years ago Clay. Lots of things can happen in five years. They probably didn’t think it was necessary to tell Massingham we once turned him down.’

  ‘Yeah. So you’ve met him. That’s my doubtful privilege next Tuesday. What’s he like?’

  ‘An oddball. For one thing, he’s almost a dwarf: under five foot and has all the usual aggressiveness of little men. He wears a beard and is balding, but he’s a dynamo all right. You know the type: a real pusher, talks fast, waves his hands around, has hypnotic eyes. When I knew him he made a big commotion out of the simplest things. Booking a ticket to New York was a major thing with him. You would think he was taking a trip to the moon, but I guess he must have changed a lot since then. Rumour has it he’s worth millions. When you amass that kind of bread you don’t have to impress, you let your slaves do it for you.’

  ‘How right you are.’ and I told him about Dyer.

  Rhoda came out of the bedroom. She still looked sulky.

  ‘Are we going to eat, or aren’t we?’ she demanded. ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘We’re waiting for you, honey,’ I said.

  ‘Well for heaven’s sake, let’s go somewhere decent for a change. I’m sick of the coffee shop.’

  She flounced out of the apartment and after exchanging rueful grins, Olson and I followed her.

  * * *

  Rhoda w
as never happier than when, given the rare opportunity, she could score off me. Admittedly, I had been forced by her careless, sluttish ways to protest often enough and she hated any form of criticism. So scoring off me was always to her a major triumph.

  It soon became apparent that she had been shrewd enough to guess that Val had made an impression on me and she grabbed at the chance to be irritating.

  After we had driven Olson back to his apartment and we had returned home, I began clearing the table of the cocktail things. Moving past me, Rhoda managed to sweep the bowl of peanuts off the table with her shirt, scattering the nuts all over the carpet.

  She had been in a difficult mood during dinner and my nerves were jumpy.

  ‘Look what you’ve done! Careful how you walk,’ I said sharply. ‘You’ll mess the whole carpet!’

  ‘Go on, nag!’ I could see she was furious with herself for being so clumsy. ‘I bet your efficient, gorgeous Val didn’t do things like that.’

  If I had kept my cool and had ignored the remark, I wouldn’t have given her the hint that the subject of Val, to me, was a touchy one.

  ‘Oh, wrap up!’ I said angrily. ‘Why don’t you look where you’re going?’

  She regarded me, gave a sudden little grin and went into the bedroom.

  The next four days were trying. Apart from clearing my desk in preparation for my trip, coping with Dyer who was continually on the telephone raising stupid and unnecessary queries about the schedules he had given me and handling the day to day routine work, Rhoda became increasingly tiresome.

  When she upset a box of face powder in the bathroom leaving me to clear up the mess, she shook her head in mock sadness as she said, ‘I really must try to be like efficient, gorgeous Val.’ When she overslept and made me late for the office, she said, ‘I’m sure gorgeous, efficient Val never kept you waiting.’

  Every time she mentioned Val’s name it was more than a pinprick to me, with an effort I kept my temper and ignored her jibes, hoping she would get tired of baiting me.

  I now found myself looking forward to getting away from her for five days. She would probably have forgotten Val by the time I returned.

  We took Olson out to dinner on Monday night and Rhoda was on her best behaviour We had a pleasant evening, but returning to our apartment after dropping Olson off at his, Rhoda flopped into a lounging chair, lit a cigarette and surprised me by saying, ‘Let’s have a drink Clay. A goodbye toast, huh?’

  ‘Why not. Scotch?’

  ‘Hmmmm.’

  I fixed the drinks and sat opposite her.

  ‘Tell me Clay, was Val your mistress?’

  I slopped my drink so violently some of the ice shot out of the glass on to the carpet.

  Rhoda giggled.

  ‘Who’s clumsy now?’

  I picked up the ice cubes and took them into the kitchen.

  I stood for a moment or two to compose myself, then I returned to the living room, aware that Rhoda was watching me.

  ‘Was she your mistress?’ she repeated.

  ‘No. Now listen, Rhoda, I’ve had enough of this. Understand? From now on you will cut out this continuous reference to Val. I don’t know what the idea is, but if you think it is funny, I don’t.’

  She sipped her drink and eyed me over the rim of the glass.

  ‘She did mean something to you, didn’t she?’ She giggled. ‘I believe you’re still in love with her.’

  ‘Stop this nonsense! You’re just showing what a small, stupid mind you have!’

  She flushed.

  ‘You don’t deny it do you?’

  ‘There’s nothing to deny. Finish your drink and let’s go to bed.’

  ‘Well, five days with slinky Mrs. Vidal might cure you,’ she said spitefully. ‘She’s just the kind who could get a faded romance out of your head. It would be a joke if you went all moody about her.’

  Leaving my drink, I went into the bedroom. I was so angry that if I hadn’t left her, I would have slapped her She must have sensed she had gone too far for she remained in the living room until she heard the shower going, then she hurriedly undressed and was in bed by the time I came out of the bathroom.

  ‘I was only kidding Clay. Can’t you take a joke?’ she said, uneasily.

  ‘You haven’t cleaned your teeth,’ I snapped. ‘For God’s sake hurry up! I want some sleep if you don’t!’

  ‘To hell with my teeth and to hell with you!’ she exclaimed furiously and turning her back on me, she snapped off the light.

  Three

  I was met at el Aeropuerto de Ilopango by a stockily built, swarthy Indian who introduced himself as Roberto Rivera. He was in his middle forties with a Charlie Chan moustache, and he had the crafty eyes and the sly smile of the Latin American at his worst. I took a dislike to him at first sight.

  ‘Welcome, Senor Burden,’ he said, shaking hands and raising his straw sombrero. ‘Everything, is very fine. I meet Senor Vidal and the Senora as arranged. No problems. I am at your disposal. You wish to go to the hotel?’

  ‘Yes, please. Is it far?’

  ‘No distance: perhaps a little way. Here is the beautiful car, full air conditioned, every comfort, much expense.’ He led me over to a dusty black Mercedes 200 parked in the sun and opened the offside door, again lifting his sombrero.

  I was glad to get into the cool of the car. The sun must have been 96 in the shade.

  He slid under the driving wheel.

  ‘Excuse my English, Senor Burden. Speak very fine American, but English more difficult.’

  I said I understood.

  He drove away from the airport and along a dusty road crowded with Indian peasants. Nearly all of them carried big metal pots on their heads or their shoulders.

  ‘What are they carrying?’ I asked.

  ‘Water, Senor Burden. Water is difficult here. Everyone carries water. It is the way of life.’ He blasted his horn as an Indian wandered aimlessly across the road. ‘Very stupid people. Sun makes them stupid.’ He laughed, showing a mouthful of gold teeth. ‘I have a fine schedule for you.

  ‘Senora Vidal will be very pleased.’ He glanced slyly at me.

  ‘Senor Vidal is plenty rich, yes?’

  ‘He has enough,’ I said shortly.

  ‘Many poor people live here.’ He shook his head sadly.

  ‘Many, many. Rich too. More poor than rich, but rich very rich.’

  We were now passing through a small village, crowded with Indians, Most of them wore battered sombreros, white shirts and dark, shapeless trousers. The women had on various coloured aprons, covering their light cotton dresses.

  The main street of the village was dirty with a litter of paper, discarded fruit skins, cigarette butts and other rubbish. The sight of this squalor depressed me.

  It took us over half an hour to reach San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador. It was also swarming with Indians who mingled with well dressed, overfed men and women, obviously the wealthy citizens of the City.

  ‘Lovely city,’ Rivera said. ‘You like it, Senor Burden?’

  ‘Oh sure.’

  ‘You call me Roberto. Everyone calls me Roberto. I am a very well-known guide here. Many rich Americans ask for me.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘We approach the hotel.’ He drove up a steep hill, turned left and edged into a curved drive. ‘Beautiful hotel Senor Burden, the best. Everyone very satisfied.’

  The doorman opened the car door and I got out. A porter took my bag.

  ‘You’d better come in, Roberto,’ I said. ‘I’ll look at your schedule. I must report to Mr. Vidal.’

  Roberto showed me his gold teeth.

  ‘No hurry, Senor Burden. Senor Vidal and the Senora are with friends for lunch. Jose - he works with me - took them to El Cuco. Very lovely place by the sea. They visit Senor Guzman who owns many coffee plantations, very rich: beautiful, beautiful house, cost two million dollars. They cannot be back here until 19.00. Plenty of time.’

  I looked at my w
atch. It was just midday.

  ‘Okay Roberto. I’ll have lunch here. Suppose we get together around 15.00.’

  ‘I go home then.’ He looked happy. ‘Nice home: poor, but nice. My children see little of me. It will be a surprise for them.’ He lifted his sombrero, shook hands and climbed into the Mercedes.

  After checking in, inspecting my room which was air conditioned and pleasant, I took a shower, changed into an open neck shirt and slacks and went down to the coffee shop for the best scampi cocktail I have ever eaten.

  I took coffee on the terrace, overlooking the big pool. The Salvadorian children all swam like fish and all made a lot of noise. Their parents, solidly built, sat under sun umbrellas, eating ice cream or drinking beer. Around 15.00, I went into the lounge to find Rivera waiting for me.

  ‘Fine food, Senor Burden. Everything satisfactory? Room beautiful?’

  ‘Everything’s fine. Let’s look at the schedule.’

  We went over it together. It meant little to me, not knowing the country, but Rivera assured me there was nothing of interest he had omitted.

  ‘Very hot in the afternoons. I suggest morning drives, Senor Burden. Maybe something in the late afternoon when it is cooler. Good to take a little siesta after lunch,’ and he looked hopefully at me.

  ‘That will depend on what Mrs. Vidal wants. She may not want a siesta.’

  His face fell.

  ‘You explain to her, Senor Burden. Very hot and fatiguing in the afternoon.’

  ‘I’ll see what she says. You had better be here at 08.30 tomorrow morning. I want the car washed and polished, Roberto. These are V.I.P. That car isn’t good enough.’

  ‘The best there is, Senor Burden, but I will clean it.’ He looked even more gloomy. Getting to his feet, he went on, ‘Then tomorrow?’

  When he had gone. I went over to the kiosk and bought a map of El Salvador, then going up to my room. I put on swim trunks and went down to the pool. After a swim, I sat in the shade and studied the schedule and the map. Tomorrow, we were to visit the Izcola volcano and return to the hotel for lunch. Nothing was suggested for the afternoons. I would have to discuss the afternoons with Mrs. Vidal, I told myself.