1977 - I Hold the Four Aces

by James Hadley Chase

  “I suppose it eats petrol?”

  “When one is fortunate to own a car like this, sir, one must expect it to use petrol,” Hinkle said, still cold and aloof.

  “Yes.” Grenville turned on all his charm. “Madame Rolfe tells me how well you look after her, Hinkle. I too want to look after her.”

  Hinkle regarded him, his fat face expressionless.

  “Yes, Mr. Grenville.”

  Trying again, Grenville said, “I want to make her happy as I know you make her happy.”

  That didn’t get him anywhere for Hinkle opened the boot of the car and put away the feather duster.

  Grenville realized he had a problem on his hands. Hinkle was definitely hostile.

  Then Helga appeared.

  “Do we go?” She went up to Grenville and kissed him lightly on his cheek. “Hinkle? No problems?”

  “The luggage is in the boot. We can leave when you wish, madame.”

  “Then let’s go. Chris! I can’t wait to show you my Swiss home!”

  * * *

  Some ten years ago, Herman Rolfe had bought the villa at Castagnola, just outside Lugano, from an American movie producer.

  The villa had everything that an imaginative and rich movie producer could devise: an indoor heated swimming pool, an outdoor swimming pool and a vast terrace overlooking Lugano and the lake. There were four bedrooms, each with deluxe bathrooms; sauna baths, servants” quarters, a tiny elevator that conveyed logs from the cellar to the big fireplace, two chair lifts that took you to the main highway if you wanted to go for a walk and didn’t want to descend the hundred and fifty steps through the garden which was floodlit at night. There was a kitchen with its push-button miracles, fully equipped to produce dinner for some twenty people. The stereo radio and gramophone could produce music in every room if you pressed the right button. Every room had a colour TV set. There was a deep freeze cabinet run by its own generator so electrical cuts didn’t matter. Speaker-boxes wired to every telephone throughout the villa allowed you to talk to anyone in any city in the world without moving from your chair, so finely tuned you could hear someone breathing in Tokyo or anywhere else in the world. There was also a movie projection room with twenty plush seats and a vista-vision screen.

  Grenville was fascinated as Helga happily showed him around.

  They had had lunch on the way. Hinkle had gone to the kitchen. The rooms were ready.

  Helga led Grenville to her bedroom.

  It was a beautiful room with apricot-coloured leather-padded walls, mirrors, a fitted white wool carpet and fumed oak fittings. The king-sized bed dominated the room.

  “Chris, darling!” Helga said. “Hinkle understands. We sleep here!”

  Grenville, feeling a little stifled by so much luxury in spite of what he had been used to, asked if he could take a swim.

  “The pool, Helga! It’s marvellous. Could I?”

  “You are free to do what you like, Chris. This is your home!”

  She left him, humming under her breath, and went into the kitchen where Hinkle, wearing a white coat, was preparing dinner.

  “Hinkle! I’m so happy!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

  “He would appear so, madame,” Hinkle said in his lower tone.

  Helga laughed.

  “Oh, Hinkle! I want to marry him! But you will always be with us.”

  “I trust so, madame.”

  Laughing, she caught hold of him and whirled him away in an old-fashioned waltz. Without touching her, Hinkle followed her steps and they danced around the kitchen, then she kissed his cheek and left him. His fat face sad, Hinkle began to cut up a chicken.

  In her bedroom, Helga threw off her clothes, put on a bathing cap, covered her nakedness with a wrap, and ran down the stairs to the bathing pool.

  Grenville was lazily floating, his eyes closed.

  Helga dived in, swam under him, surfaced and then dragged him down under the water. Startled, Grenville broke free, spluttering to see Helga, naked, swimming with the ease and speed of a dolphin.

  He saw at once he was way out of her class so he moved to the side of the pool and watched her.

  What a magnificent swimmer! he thought as she did four lengths at a speed that made him envious, then she came to him and entwined her arms and legs around him. Her mouth found his and his hands slid down her body, pulling her hard against him.

  Later, they sat on the terrace, watching the sunset. As the sky turned to a fierce furnace red, Helga took Grenville’s hand.

  “I have always hoped to find someone like you, Chris,” she said.

  “But it’s no good, darling,” Grenville said, moving into his act. “It is marvellous now, but for how long?”

  “What do you mean?” She looked searchingly at him.

  “You and I.” Grenville wondered how many times he had made this speech. “It is not possible, Helga. This moment of loveliness will go. If you weren’t so rich.”

  She took her hand from his and turned to look directly at him. That direct stare bothered him.

  “Explain yourself, Chris!” The snap in her voice warned him he wasn’t dealing with some stupid old woman.

  “Surely, Helga, it is obvious. If you weren’t so rich, I would ask you to marry me. That would give me the greatest of all happiness, but Englishmen just don’t live on their wives.”

  “I’ve never heard such nonsense!” Helga said. “Who said you had to live on me? You have many talents. You and I, working together, could make a terrific combination.”

  Grenville moved uneasily.

  “I do have talents, but I have never been able to make money. This would only bring unhappiness to both of us. Let us enjoy these few moments of bliss, then I’ll go. I honestly…”

  “Chris! Pull yourself together! You are talking like a goddamn ham actor,” Helga said sharply. “Your dialogue is utter corn. We are talking about love, not money!” She looked fixedly at him. “I love you! Now tell me: do you love me?”

  Into Grenville’s mind flashed the thought: God! This woman is dangerous! All the other old bitches I fed that talk to lapped it up. Here, she is telling me I’m talking corn!

  “Love you? Can you ask?” His fertile brain was working furiously. “I think you are the most marvellous.”

  “Never mind that!” Helga snapped. “I want to know: do you or don’t you love me?”

  Grenville drew in a deep breath. He realized he was trapped, and there was no way out.

  “Helga, darling, I love you.”

  Helga studied him for a few moments while he gave her his most sincere expression, then she relaxed back in her chair and smiled at him.

  “Then we have no problem. It’s time we had a drink.” She reached out for the bell push on the table and pressed it.

  Hinkle appeared on the terrace, carrying a silver tray on which stood a big shaker and two glasses. As he set the tray on the table, he said, “Perhaps Mr. Grenville would prefer something else. This is vodka martini, madame.”

  “Fine with me,” Grenville said, and how he now longed for a drink!

  As Hinkle poured, he said, “Dinner will be in half an hour, madame.”

  “What are you giving us?” Helga asked, taking the glass he offered.

  “It has been a little rushed, madame, but tonight, pate de foie gras and chicken a la King.”

  Helga looked at Grenville.

  “You could have a steak if you would prefer it.”

  “Oh, no. Hinkle’s menu sounds perfect.”

  Hinkle inclined his head.

  “Then in half an hour, madame. As it is a fine evening, you will prefer, no doubt, to dine on the terrace.”

  “Lovely!”

  While Hinkle set the table, neither Helga nor Grenville talked. They sat watching the sun slowly sink, sipping their drinks.

  When Hinkle returned to the kitchen, Helga said, “We will have a serious talk after dinner, Chris. Let’s forget it for now,” and she went on to discuss what they would d
o the following day. “It would be fun to drive up into the mountains. There is an amusing little bistro where we can lunch. It would give Hinkle time to rest. I am sure he will give us one of his wonderful omelettes for supper.”

  Grenville said that would be fine. He was now depressed. He found Helga overpowering. At least, he told himself, he had hinted at marriage, and that was what Archer wanted him to do.

  With Hinkle hovering over them, they ate an excellent dinner. Then they moved from the table and sat in lounging chairs, looking at the lake, now like a silver mirror in the moonlight.

  Hinkle served coffee and brandy and then cleared the table.

  “Hinkle! Go to bed!” Helga said. “We have everything we need. Mr. Grenville will lock up. You must be very tired.”

  “Thank you, madame, if you are sure there is nothing further, then I will retire.”

  “Nothing, and thank you for a wonderful dinner. Have a good night’s rest.”

  “And I trust you will too, madame,” Hinkle said and carried the tray into the kitchen.

  “I really don’t know what I would do without him,” Helga said. “He is part of my life.”

  “Yes.” Grenville lit a cigarette. “I can well imagine.”

  There was a pause, then Helga said, “Let us now talk seriously about ourselves, Chris. Let us be absolutely frank. I will begin. I married Herman for what I could get out of him. He was a cripple and impotent with not a shred of kindness in him. He wanted a good-looking, clever hostess to run his various establishments, and I fitted his requirements. There was to be no cheating, but I did cheat. I have this thing which is a curse. I need a man.” She smiled at him and patted his hand. “I am so sick of sordid affairs I want a permanent man. I have never been in love before, but I am n o w . with you.”

  Startled by her frankness, Grenville said, “I love you too, Helga, but there is this thing in me that will not allow me to live on a woman. You are too rich.”

  “All right, I have to respect that,” Helga said. “Now tell me something: if I gave all my money away, would you marry me?”

  Grenville stared at her.

  “But you couldn’t possibly do such a thing!”

  “Never mind what I could or couldn’t do!” Again there was a snap in her voice. “The question is would you marry me if I had the same amount of money as you had?”

  Again feeling trapped, Grenville touched her hand.

  “Of course I would.”

  She smiled at him.

  “Don’t look so worried. I am not going to do anything so stupid as to give away my husband’s magic key. It unlocks so many doors. So, as I don’t intend to descend to your financial level, you must ascend to mine. If you were worth five million dollars which you had earned and which belonged to you, would you marry me?”

  Grenville ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Helga! Do stop this! I could never make five million dollars!”

  “I will show you how you could make them.”

  Grenville stared incredulously at her.

  “How?”

  “By using your talents. I will make you a senior partner in my corporation. We are setting up a factory in France, and then in Germany. With your flair, your appearance and your languages you could handle the deals. You would have accountants, experts and assistants, but you would control the deals. You would become a stockholder, and you would be on a percentage basis. I promise you, this would be no gift. You will earn every dollar you make, but I know, in three or four years” time, you would be worth five million dollars. I would lend you this money at six per cent interest. It would be yours.” She smiled at him. “We could get married tomorrow.”

  The very thought of working in an office with Helga, driving him on, with accountants and experts crowding him, made Grenville inwardly shudder.

  “It’s wonderful of you, Helga, but frankly, I couldn’t cope. It’s not my thing,” he said earnestly. “It is a marvellous offer, but…”

  “Of course, you could cope with it!” There was now steel in Helga’s voice. “You would have me behind you, and the whole of my organization. We could have marvellous fun.”

  Then Grenville remembered Archer’s advice: love her.

  “This is terribly exciting, Helga.” He got to his feet. “Would you let me think about it? May we sleep on it? I’m almost convinced, as long as you would be with me to help me, but seeing you, in the moonlight, looking so lovely, I want to love you.”

  “Oh, Chris!” Helga gave him her hand. “Yes, let’s make love.”

  He put his arm around her, and together they walked across the terrace into the living-room.

  “Darling, will you close the shutters? I’ll be waiting for you. Hurry!”

  As Grenville wound down the shutters, Helga walked happily to her bedroom.

  * * *

  At exactly 08.30, the following morning, Hinkle entered Helga’s bedroom, pushing the breakfast trolley before him. As he began to draw the curtains, Helga came awake, and immediately became aware that Grenville was not at her side.

  “Where is Mr. Grenville?” she asked sharply.

  “He is taking a swim, madame.”

  “Oh.” Helga relaxed. She sat up in bed and fluffed up her hair. “Coffee! You are always so punctual, Hinkle.”

  “Yes, madame. It is a beautiful morning. I trust you slept well.”

  Helga laughed.

  “Marvellously!”

  Hinkle pushed the trolley to the bedside.

  “Will you be in for lunch, madame?”

  “No. We are going into the mountains and we won’t be back until four or five. If we could have an omelette for dinner?”

  “Certainly, madame.”

  He left her, and Helga drank her coffee, thinking about Grenville. His love-making had been marvellous. She felt sure now that she could persuade him to take an important position in her corporation. She wouldn’t want to be married in Lugano. She would want the marriage to take place in Paradise City. To launch Grenville, it would have to be a big affair, and the thought thrilled her.

  They would fly to Paradise City at the end of the week. The announcement would be made. There would be a lot to arrange. She wondered how Loman and Winborn would react. Then she frowned. She suddenly remembered she had gone off with Chris without telling Winborn or Loman where she was!

  She also remembered she had left most of her clothes at the Plaza Athenee Hotel.

  Winborn might even imagine she had been kidnapped! Jumping out of bed, she took a quick shower and then slipped into a trouser suit.

  As she left the bedroom, Grenville, wrapped in a towel, came towards her.

  “Darling!” Helga ran to him and they kissed. “Did you have a lovely swim?”

  “Marvellous.”

  “I’ve just remembered. I haven’t told my people I am here. Ask Hinkle for coffee and sit on the terrace. I won’t be long.”

  Leaving him, she went into the living-room and reached for the telephone.

  Grenville went to his bedroom and put on slacks and a polo neck sweater, then went out onto the terrace.

  “Tea or coffee, sir?” Hinkle asked, suddenly appearing.

  “Coffee please, nothing else.”

  Grenville sat down. Faintly, he could hear Helga talking on the telephone. He must gain a little time, he told himself. He must see Archer. But how?

  While swimming, he had considered Helga’s proposal. He was sure, even in four years’ time, he would not be capable of earning five million dollars. No, he must first try for the million dollars Archer was promising him. If that didn’t work, then maybe he would have to think again, but, first, he must see Archer.

  Hinkle brought the coffee.

  “Is there a golf course near here?” Grenville asked.

  “Yes, sir: a reasonable one, I understand. It is at Ponte Tresa. I have a map if you would care to look at it.”

  “Thanks, I would.”

  He had finished his coffee and had studied the m
ap before Helga appeared. She looked irritated.

  “I’m going to be held up,” she said, sitting by his side. “My stupid people are making a mess of buying the site at Versailles.” She put her hand on his. “That’s why you are going to be so important to me. You and I, working together, won’t make a mess! I was planning to go into the mountains, but, now I must stay here for more telephone calls.”

  Here was Grenville’s chance.

  “I understand.” He smiled at her. “Helga, darling, about last night’s talk. May I have just a little time? Would you mind if I have a game of golf? When playing golf, I think better than at any other time, and I will be back with an answer.” He smiled. “I think the answer must be yes.”

  Helga, her mind now occupied with business, nodded.

  “Go ahead, darling. Take the Rolls. When do I see you?”

  “I’ll be back around three o’clock. Will that be all right?”

  “Of course. But your clubs, don’t you need clubs to play golf?”

  Grenville laughed.

  “The pro will lend me a set.” He got to his feet, bent and kissed her. “I’ll get off.”

  She watched him leave, disappointed. She would have liked him to have stayed with her, to be able to consult him, to get his views on the difficulties that had arisen, and to be able to assess his thinking, but, she told herself, there was time.

  Standing on the terrace, she watched him drive away in the Rolls, then she went to her bedroom where Hinkle had just finished making the bed.

  “Would it bother you to give me something light for lunch, Hinkle?” she asked. “I have phone calls to make and Mr. Grenville is going to play golf and won’t be back until after lunch.”

  “Certainly, madame. I suggest a grilled sole.”

  “Yes.” She wandered restlessly around the bedroom. “Hinkle! I really love him! I’m trying to persuade him to take a position in the firm, but he is so correct. If I can persuade him, we will marry.”

  “If that would make you happy, madame,” Hinkle said, in his disapproving voice, and went into the bathroom.

  The telephone bell began to ring, and for the next three hours Helga was engrossed in the affairs of the Herman Rolfe Electronic Corporation.