"No ... it didn't bother me," she said, steadying her voice. "I just wondered where you were."
"I took a look at the town." His jaws moved rhythmically as he chewed. "It's not much. I got cold. I was glad to get into bed."
"Yes." She had a feeling he was lying but she wasn't sure.
They drove for the next hour in silence and it irritated her that he seemed quite happy to drive and not to have to listen to anything she might say. When they came to the entrance to the Bernadino tunnel and he flicked on his dipped headlights, she remembered the call to Hamburg.
She said, "The hotel charged me for a call to Hamburg. They said you had made it."
She was watching him, but his face remained relaxed and he continued to chew.
"That's right, ma'am. I made the call. I wanted news of Ron. Excuse me if I did wrong."
She drew in a long, slow breath. His constant 'excuse me's' were gnawing at her nerves.
"How is Ron?"
"He's okay, ma'am."
"Have the police released him?"
His eyes shifted to her and then away.
"Yeah."
"So what is he doing now?"
Watching him, she had a feeling she had dropped salt on a snail. He retreated into a shell. His blank expression, his gum chewing told her it was a shell she wasn't going to penetrate.
"I don't know, ma'am."
"Didn't you ask him?"
"I didn't speak to him. I spoke to one of his friends. He just told me Ron was out."
She shrugged. He didn't want to confide in her ... after all, why should he? The run through the tunnel took some minutes.
"The road ahead is tricky and dangerous, Larry. I know it well. I will drive," she said when she saw they were reaching the end of the tunnel.
"Just as you say, ma'am."
She looked at the gas gauge.
"There's a service station not far from the end of the tunnel. We'll change there."
"Okay, ma'am."
Ten kilometres beyond the tunnel they came to the service station and Larry stopped the car by the pumps.
He got out and she slid under the driving wheel as the attendant came out of his shelter.
She told him to fill the tank.
Larry came around and got in the passenger's seat.
"Pay him," she said. "It'll be thirty francs."
"What was that, ma'am?"
At the sound of the startled note in his voice, she looked sharply at him. He immediately shifted his eyes.
"I said... pay him thirty francs!" she snapped.
He shifted uneasily.
"Excuse me, ma'am ... I haven't thirty francs," he said and she saw his face was now beetroot red.
She lifted her hands, then dropped them on her mink covered lap.
"All right, Larry." She opened her bag and paid the attendant twenty–seven francs and gave him a franc tip. Then she shifted into gear and drove out on to the broad mountain road. When they were out of sight of the gas station, she drew in against the side of the mountain and stopped the car. She turned off the engine, took out her cigarette case and lit a cigarette. "I would like to get this straight, Larry," she said. He looked furtively at her. "What was that, ma'am?"
"I want an explanation. I gave you three hundred marks in Bonn. The meal couldn't have been more than twenty marks so you had a balance of around two hundred and eighty. I then gave you fifteen hundred francs to get clothes. You told me you had something over from that. You also told me twice that you do not accept money. Now you can't even find thirty francs ... did you lose what I gave you?"
He rubbed the side of his jaw as he hesitated, then he nodded. "Yeah... I guess I did."
She stared at him.
"But how did you lose all that money, Larry?"
He chewed on his gum and she could see sweat–beads forming on his forehead. "I guess I just lost it, ma'am."
"Do you expect me to accept such a stupid answer?" The angry snap in her voice stiffened him. He remained silent, staring through the wind shield at the falling snow.
"It's a lot of money to lose," she went on, softening her voice when she saw he wasn't going to reply. "How did you lose it?"
Still he said nothing. If he were wearing his cap she was sure he would be pulling at the peak.
"Larry! Will you please answer my question! Did some woman get it from you last night?"
He moved uneasily, then he nodded. "I guess that's how it happened, ma'am."
She thought of the previous evening. The terrible letdown when she had been told he had gone out. She felt so frustrated she couldn't speak for several seconds. Finally she said, her voice unsteady, "You wanted a woman and you went out in the snow to look for one ... is that right?" "Yes, ma'am." She closed her eyes, her hands turning into fists.
There was a long silence, then she said, "Tell me about it." Again he shifted uneasily.
"There's nothing to tell, ma'am ... excuse me ... I'm sorry."
"Tell me about it!" Her voice was ugly and harsh.
Startled he looked at her, then away.
"Larry!"
He slumped down in the car seat as if defeated.
"Well, ma'am, if you must know ... I went to a cafe. There was this girl on her own. We got talking." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Maybe you can understand. I wanted her. We went to her place. She had a girlfriend there." He stared through the wind shield, frowning. "I guess they took me to the cleaners. When I got back to the hotel I hadn't five francs left."
Two girls! Helga drew in a shuddering breath. You stupid, beautifully built fool! You could have had me for nothing and in comfort!
"You seem to have bad luck with your girls, don't you?" she said and shifted
the gear lever into Drive.
"You could say that, ma'am. I guess I'm not so hot with women."
Looking at him, seeing him slumped in depression, she felt a pang of pity for him.
She drove along the mountain road and began the difficult descent towards Bellonzona.
Herman Rolfe liked to spend a month, during the winter, in Switzerland. The snowcapped mountains and the clean blue sky had a fascination for him. He had bought a four–bedroom villa at Castagnola, overlooking the lake of Lugano, had finished it and made use of it during the month of February. The villa had been built by a successful movie director some fifteen years ago when land and building were at a reasonable price. The villa was rather special as it hung from the mountain side, was screened by eight foot high walls, had two hectares of land and had an unrivalled view of the lake and the tiny villages around the lake. It had a heated swimming pool, a glassed–in patio, a games and movie room, plus all the luxury gimmicks a movie director at the height of his success could dream up. There was also a garage for four cars with staff quarters over the garage.
Each February, Helga came to Switzerland to get the villa ready for her husband's reception.
He would eventually arrive with Hinkle who acted as his nurse, his valet and his chef. Hinkle had been in Rolfe's service for some fifteen years. He looked like a benign English bishop: rotund, bald, with white wisps of hair to soften his florid complexion. He was as smooth as silk in his manner, spoke only when spoken to and was unbelievably efficient in everything he did. Although looking older than his fifty years, he was also athletic and surprisingly strong. Helga had come to admire him. She quickly realized he tolerated nothing but the best. Anything that was less than best was instantly condemned by him. At first she had been afraid of him. During the first two months of her marriage, she knew he was observing her, judging her and he made her horribly nervous. Then he seemed to accept the fact that she was as efficient in her job as a hostess and as a personal secretary and as a wife as he was in his various jobs. She realized this when flowers began to appear in her bedroom and then other things happened to make her life much easier and she knew this was Hinkle's way of telling her she was accepted. He still remained aloof, but when their eyes met, his expression w
as benign. In three days from now, she thought as she drove towards Lugano, her husband and Hinkle would be arriving at the villa. From Bonn she had already alerted the cleaning agency in Lugano to put the villa in order and to turn on the heating. She always stayed at the Eden hotel in Lugano while this was going on. When the villa was ready, she drove to the tiny airport at Agno to meet her husband's private plane and then drive him to the villa.
But now she had Larry with her, she didn't intend to stay at the Eden hotel. The cleaning would be done. The heating would be on. Food was no problem. The deep freeze cabinet was always kept well stocked for an unexpected arrival. Three days!
To have this boy to herself for three days turned Helga hot It was a risk. They would arrive at the villa at 14.00. But since Herman and she came only to Castagnola for a month in the year they had no social life nor did they know anyone in the district. It was only a slight risk, she assured herself. There was no one to raise eyebrows or to gossip.
Now was the moment, she thought as she drove down the narrow, twisting road that led directly to the lake, to alert Larry. She would have to handle him gently. He was such an odd mixture. She thought of the two girls. They could have drained him of all sexual desire. He might think a woman older than himself undesirable in his present mood ... she doubted that. A man of his build must have a lot of resilience, but she must be careful.
"Tell me, Larry, what are you plans?" she asked abruptly.
He gave a little start as if startled to find her by his side.
"My plans, ma'am?" He chewed for a long moment. "I I'll look for a job."
"Do you think you'll get one?"
"Oh, sure ... I've got jobs before. Yeah, I'll get one all right." "But you'll need a work permit, Larry." He glanced at her, then lifted his heavy shoulders.
"Is that right? Weil, I guess I'll have to get a work permit then." She restrained her exasperation with an effort.
"I don't think you know really what you are saying," she said as gently as she could. "Work permits here are difficult to get. Now listen, Larry, I want to help you. I know you're against accepting money, but I would like to make you a loan. You must have some money while you try to get a work permit. You can always pay me back later." He shook his head.
"Thanks, ma'am, but I'll manage. I appreciate the offer. My old man would flip his lid if he knew I was taking money from anyone."
"But your father won't know unless you tell him," Helga said as if speaking to a child.
He remained silent for so long she looked sharply at him. He was staring blankly at the car ahead of them, chewing, his face screwed into an expression of thought. She decided not to hurry him and she waited as she drove into the thick traffic and into the centre of Lugano.
Finally, he said, "Well, ma'am, I appreciate it. You're right about my old man. I needn't tell him, but it bothers me that I might not be able to pay you back. I've cost you enough already."
"Suppose you let me bother about that?" She was now happy, realizing at last she had broken through the crust of his obstinacy and was reaching him. You see, Larry, money doesn't mean a great deal to me. I have it, and when I can help people, it makes me happy to do it."
He took a little time to consider this, then he nodded.
"Yeah ... I guess I would feel the same way too, ma'am, if I had money."
They were now driving along the lake at a crawl. The traffic along the lake was always slow and congested. "It's pretty, isn't it?" she said.
"It sure is, ma'am." He looked at the lake glittering in sudden pale sunlight and at the distant hills, with the snow covering the trees. "What do they call this place?"
"This is Lugano. We are now going to my home. I'd like you to see it. It's not far from here."
"Your home?" He turned and looked at her, his jaw moving as he chewed and he smiled his warm smile that set her blood on fire. "I didn't expect to be taken to your home."
She laughed.
"Why not? You can stay the night ... there's plenty of room, then I will see what I can do for you tomorrow."
"You mean you are asking me to stay the night in your home?" "Why not?"
He slammed his big hands down on his knees with such violence she was sure he had hurt himself.
"Boy!" he exclaimed. "Am I lucky! Boy! Boy! Am I lucky!"
Helga looked sharply at him. There was just too much exuberance in his voice to ring true. She had a moment of doubt, even fear, but as he swivelled to look at her, his smile so warm and friendly, the doubt and the fear went away. "I'm glad you're pleased, Larry."
"You don't know what this means to me, ma'am," he said. "I was getting scared. I couldn't see myself sleeping rough in a place like this. I couldn't think where I was going to sleep."
You'll sleep with me, Helga thought as she said, "Don't worry about that, Larry." She smiled at him, resisting the urge to put her hand on his. "Don't worry about anything."
Helga lay on the king–size bed, her nakedness covered by her black chiffon wrap, her arms and legs spread wide in total relaxation. She looked around her big bedroom contentedly.
It was a beautiful room with apricot–coloured leather padded walls, mirrors, a wall–to–wall fitted white wool carpet and fume oak fitted furniture. A mirror, facing the vast bed, told her she looked sensually beautiful and fifteen years younger than she was.
She and Larry had stopped in Castagnola at a small restaurant and had the expected greasy Swiss meal of pork chops and chips, then she had driven him up the St. Moritz highway to the villa.
She had been pleased by his reaction to the villa. His stunned expression as she unlocked the heavy oak, nail studded front door and took him through the lobby and into the vast living–room gave her an excited lift until she remembered her own astonishment when she had first walked into the room. "Gee!" He stood staring around. "This is really something! It's just out of the movies!"
"It is... it was once owned by a movie director. Take your coat off. Look around."
Together they explored the house. At first, he made exclamations of surprise as the luxury of the place unfolded before him. He gaped at the indoor, heated swimming pool, looked through the double–glazed windows at the outdoor swimming pool and the big terrace and the distant view of Lugano. He began to grow silent as he stood in the movie projection room with its twenty plush seats and the vista–vision screen. He just stood, saying nothing as she showed him the four bedrooms, each with their deluxe bathrooms. Then she began to realize that so much luxury and comfort was making a bad impression on him. There were other things to show him: two sauna baths, the tiny elevator that conveyed logs from the cellar right to the big fireplace, the two chair lifts that would take you down to the main highway if you wanted to go for a walk and didn't want to descend the hundred steps through the garden. There was the kitchen with its push button miracles, fully equipped to produce a dinner for twenty people, the stereo radio and gramophone that could produce music in every room or in any room provided you pressed the right button. Also the colour TV set in every room, me deep freeze cabinet, the speaker–boxes hooked to the telephone which allowed you to talk to anyone in any city in the world without moving from your chair: tiny loudspeakers so finely tuned you could hear someone breathing in Tokyo ... so many other things but she saw now that like a child fed too many chocolates, he was turning sour, perhaps even sick at so much luxury.
She broke off the sight–seeing tour and said, "I'll show you your room. It's just across the way."
She opened a door and led him through a covered passage to another door. She unlocked it, mounted stairs and into a narrow passage with three doors leading from it. The first door led to Hinkle's room. The next door led to a bathroom. The third door led to a small room which was seldom used. She opened the door.
"Make yourself at home, Larry. Use the bathroom. I want to unpack and change. I'll telephone you in an hour or so. If you want to wander around, go ahead. Be at home."
He looked into the room, his j
aws moving as he chewed.
"I guess you must have a lot of money, ma'am," he said and she was aware of a sullen note in his voice.
"My husband has ... I haven't." She smiled. "We'll have a picnic tonight. There’s plenty of food in the deep freeze," and moving around him, she walked back to the villa.
She had unpacked, taken a bath and then dropped on to the bed.
The time was now 1745 and it was dark. The San Salvatore mountain with
its twin radio and TV masts was obscured by cloud. The lights of Lugano showed dimly through the haze. The amber light in the big bedroom emphasized the apricot coloured walls and was kind to her reflection in the mirror.
Now was the time for love, she thought and her body melted with her desire. She lifted the telephone receiver and pressed button 10 which connected her with Larry's room. There was a long pause and her heart contracted. Surely he was there? Then just when she was getting into a panic, his voice came over the line. "Yeah, ma'am?"
"Come and see me. Follow the blue lights. They will bring you to me." "What was that again, ma'am?"
She moved impatiently, closing her legs tightly together.
"When you leave your room, you will see blue lights in the ceiling, Larry," she said, controlling the impatience in her voice. "If you will follow the lights, they will lead you to my room."
"Sure, ma'am. I'll do that," and he hung up.
She reached for the battery of buttons built into the side of the bed and pressed the blue button, then she waited. She looked a little anxiously at her reflection in the opposite mirror. Suppose he turned shy? Suppose ... no! He was a young animal. He had admitted to her he had this sexual urge. Again she looked at the reflection in the mirror and she was satisfied.
She waited, and as she waited, she heard him coming up the stairs. She hoped he wasn't chewing gum. There was a long pause, and then a tap came on the door.
Instinctively she pulled the wrap around her, suddenly worried it might be too transparent.
"Come on in, Larry," she called, and now she wanted him as she had never wanted any other man before.
He came in.
Could it be possible? she thought as she forced a smile. He was still wearing his dark suit, his white shirt and black tie!
1971 - An Ace Up My Sleeve Page 6