1952 - The Wary Transgressor

by James Hadley Chase

  With any luck the police would think, in his haste to get away, Bellini had upset the boat and had been drowned.

  At first glance the plan seemed a good one.

  There were the obvious snags.

  Suppose Bellini arrived first?

  Suppose they arrived together?

  I would have to consider alternative ideas, but the main principle seemed sound.

  I sat for a long time in the hot sunshine, going through the plan step by step, weighing the risks, hunting for the likely mistakes, considering every possibility.

  And during that time I learned that murder can be a fascinating subject. I was no longer sickened by the idea, no longer afraid. It seemed to me, as I sat there, staring with sightless eyes across the Lago, that I was now only one step away from a happiness which, this morning, had seemed an impossibility.

  chapter nine

  Around four o'clock I left the Stresa waterfront and walked up to the station to catch the four-forty to Milan.

  I was careful to mix with a crowd of tourists who were queuing up for tickets, and I went through the barrier with them.

  It was essential I shouldn't be singled out nor give any cause to be recognized. My trip to Milan had to be as secret as possible.

  I got into a crowded third-class compartment, and sat between a fat woman who nursed a bundle on her knees and a tall, thin man in black who could have been a commercial traveller.

  No one paid any attention to me, and as the train rattled along the line, I wondered how these people in this crowded compartment would react if they knew what was going on in my mind.

  I wouldn't have believed it possible, even a day ago, that I could plan to murder two people, and yet experience no feeling of hesitation, fear nor horror of what I was going to do.

  Once I had accepted the fact that this was the only solution, I was now as coldblooded and as ruthless as Laura had been the night she had tried to persuade me to drop Bruno.

  My only concern was not to make a mistake, and even that didn't worry me greatly.

  During the hour and a half I had spent on the Stresa waterfront considering my plan, I realized that both Laura and Bellini were unconsciously playing into my hands.

  I remembered Laura telling Bruno that she would go down to the boathouse to play swing music on the radiogram. This would be in my favour for the music would cover any sound she might make if I couldn't reach her fast enough to stop her crying out.

  Bellini, as he rowed across the Lago, would be expecting to see a light on in the boathouse, so I wouldn't have to work in the dark.

  The only serious difficulty I could foresee was if either of them were late or if they both arrived together, but I decided this was unlikely.

  To establish a reasonable alibi, Laura would leave the villa some time before nine o'clock. She would probably blast the radiogram so that Valeria and Bruno would know she was in the boathouse.

  The noise would also serve to cover any sound Bellini might make as he approached the villa. On a still night the sound of the music would travel far.

  But I had to take every precaution. Bellini was immensely powerful. I knew I wouldn't stand a hope against him if it came to a struggle. I had to have a gun. I had no intention of using it, but if he didn't give me an opportunity to hit him with the sandbag. I had to have a gun to control him.

  I knew it was dangerous to get a gun, but as I had to have one, I finally decided to make use of Torrchi. He had a gun, and I planned to steal it.

  Although Torrchi had never told me so, I knew he was a member of the Mafia. Giuseppe in a moment of drunkenness had told me he was. If I had to shoot Bellini I would leave the gun near his body. The police would trace the gun to Torrchi.

  I was pretty sure that the police suspected Bellini of Luigi Gallio's murder. The police would also know that Luigi was a member of the Mafia. They would assume that as Bellini was leaving the boathouse after stealing the pearls he had run into Torrchi, who had traced him to the Lago, and Torrchi had shot him. If Torrchi had a foolproof alibi for that night, and I hoped he would have, then I hoped the police would assume that Torrchi had given orders to another member of the Society to kill Bellini, and had supplied him with the gun.

  I had no intention of implicating Torrchi if I could help it, but as he had betrayed me to Laura, I felt no compunction in using him if I needed him.

  I didn't want to shoot Bellini, but if he proved difficult to handle, I might be forced to do so. In which case I had now an alternative plan.

  I hadn't spent that long period, sitting on the Stresa waterfront, for nothing. I had gone over the plan again and again with minute thoroughness, and I now felt confident that I had taken care of every contingency.

  I reached Torrchi's apartment house around six o'clock. There was a telephone booth practically opposite, and I went in and called his number.

  I listened to the burr-burr-burr for some minutes, then, satisfied that there was no one in the apartment, I crossed the road and went up the four flights of stairs.

  I met only an elderly woman on the third-floor landing, who glanced at me indifferently as she opened her front door. I passed her and mounted to the fourth floor.

  I knocked on Torrchi's door and waited.

  Nothing happened.

  Quietly I pushed open the letterbox flap, slipped my fingers in and took out the front door key.

  Simona was always losing her key, and I knew Torrchi kept a spare key in the letterbox.

  I unlocked the door, stepped into the sitting room, closed and locked the door after me. I returned the key to the letterbox.

  Then I began a hurried, but careful search for the gun.

  I found it eventually under a pile of Simona's underclothes in a drawer in the bedroom.

  The gun was a Colt .38 automatic. I checked it to see if it was loaded. It had four bullets in the magazine and one in the breech.

  I dropped it into my pocket, and as I did so I heard the letterbox flap click back.

  I moved quickly into the sitting room, my heart hammering against my side, and stepped into the window recess, behind the window curtains that were already drawn.

  I had scarcely adjusted the curtains when the front door opened.

  "I keep telling you he won't be back until nine o'clock," Simona said impatiently as she walked into the room. "But if you're scared you can go home. Don't think I care."

  "I'm not scared."

  I recognized Umberto's voice.

  I moved the curtain a fraction of an inch so I could see into the room.

  Umberto was standing with his back to me. Simona was smiling up at him, her dark little face animated, her eyes expectant.

  "I want my present now," she said. "What are you going to give me?"

  Reluctantly Umberto began to fumble in his trousers pocket.

  "I don't know if it is safe," he said uneasily. "If Torrchi found us…"

  "He won't be back until nine. How many more times do I have to tell you?" Simona said, exasperated. "He has gone to a meeting."

  "Well, if you're sure. I can't afford more than a thousand lire."

  Simona took his arm and pulled him into the bedroom.

  "You must give me more than that," she said, her voice suddenly hard. "A thousand lire is nothing."

  She closed the door.

  I could hear Umberto protesting as I moved silently from my hiding place, reached the front door, opened it and stepped into the passage.

  I walked down the four flights of stairs to the street.

  When I reached the Piazza Loreto I went into a haberdasher's shop and bought a pair of thin leather gloves. I took a little trouble in selecting them. The gloves I finally bought fitted me like a second skin.

  Then I walked down Corso Buenos Aires until I came to an ironmonger's shop which displayed a notice in the window: Keys of every description cut while you wait.

  I went in and gave the assistant the key of the boathouse that Laura had given me, and I asked h
im to make a duplicate.

  I had to wait twenty minutes. Then the assistant came back and handed me the two keys. I paid him, and went into the street again.

  The first move in my plan was now successfully completed.

  I had a gun, a pair of gloves and a spare key to the boathouse. I now needed a sandbag, but that wouldn't be difficult to make.

  Walking quickly, I headed back to the railway station.

  I got back to my room around nine-fifteen. I had brought sandwiches and a flask of Chianti with me from Milan as I didn't want to go up to the villa. I was anxious to avoid seeing Valeria until my plans were complete.

  I had supper, then lay on my bed and smoked until I heard Bicci and his wife come up to bed. I waited an hour, then I went silently downstairs to the garage. I found a small piece of sacking that would suit my purpose, also a box of sand in which Bicci did his small castings. I took some of the sand, some wire thread, and returned to my room. I made a sandbag. It was simple enough to make. Torrchi always carried one. He used to say it was the best settler of arguments he knew. I had often handled his, and I knew the right size and weight mine should be.

  I sat for some time balancing the sandbag in my hand, my mind busy.

  Tomorrow ... then Friday.

  I slept peacefully that night. For the first time since I had moved into this little room I didn't dream.

  The following morning I went up to the villa.

  Nurse Fleming was on the verandah as I came up the steps. She actually smiled at me.

  "Is signor Bruno using his chair this morning?" I asked.

  "Oh, yes. He's had a splendid night, and seems much brighter. When I come back from my weekend, Dr. Perelli wants to move him to the Regina Palace for a complete change."

  "When do you go, nurse?"

  "Tomorrow morning."

  I was puzzled by Bruno's surprising recovery. He must have known that as soon as Nurse Fleming left, Valeria would be in danger again. Then why had he made such a remarkable recovery?

  The only possible explanation I could think of was that Laura had managed to convince him she had been lying, and she had no intention of harming Valeria. But had she seen him alone? As far as I knew she hadn't had the opportunity of talking to him.

  "Has signora Fancino been with signor Bruno alone since he has been so bad?" I asked casually.

  "Only for a few minutes on Tuesday when I went for a walk in the garden," Nurse Fleming returned, looking at me sharply. "Why do you ask?"

  "I was thinking you'll be glad to have a little time of. It's not much fun for you to be stuck indoors on such fine days."

  "There are a lot of things people have to do that they don't like," she said tartly. "Now, come along. I can't stand here gossiping all day. I'm sure Mr. Fancino is waiting impatiently to be moved onto the verandah."

  That must be the answer, I thought, as I followed her along the verandah. Laura had realized that until Bruno stopped worrying, Nurse Fleming wouldn't leave him, and her scheme couldn't go ahead. She must have managed to convince him she had been torturing him for nothing, and consequently Bruno now imagined he had nothing further to worry about.

  As I entered the room, Bruno looked at me. His eyes were probing, but they were no longer afraid. And when I lifted him he didn't seem to shrink from me, and I concluded that Laura had also convinced him the story she had told him about me was also not true.

  After I had put him on the chair, I said, "I am very glad to see you're so much better, signore. I hope you will continue to make progress."

  "All right, Chisholm," Nurse Fleming said tartly. "I don't think we'll have any speeches this morning. Run along now. I have to wash the patient."

  I smiled at Bruno, but I was a little uneasy. His usual friendly look was missing, although his eyes weren't hostile. It was as if he wasn't sure of me now; as if I presented a puzzle to him.

  On my way to the garden I ran into Laura.

  I could see immediately that the strain was beginning to tell on her. Her face had a thin, bony look, and there were dark smudges under her eyes.

  "Where were you last night?" she asked sharply. "I wanted you. I can't have you running of like this, David, without your telling me where you are going."

  I smiled at her.

  She meant nothing to me now. She had no charm for me any longer, and looking down at her, I wondered how I could have been such a fool as to have fallen in love with her.

  "You're forgetting I'm not your servant any longer," I said. "I don't have to tell you where I am going. I'm only remaining here these few days to oblige Dr. Perelli."

  Her eyes flashed angrily, but she controlled her temper.

  "All right, David, if that's how you feel. Will you please give me the key to the boathouse? You forgot to return it."

  I had been certain she would ask me for the key sooner or later, and that was why I had taken the precaution to have a duplicate made.

  "Here it is," I said, taking it from my pocket. "I should have returned it before now, but it slipped my mind."

  She took the key.

  "Please don't forget Nurse Fleming is going away for the weekend. I don't want you to go of just when you think you will when she's not here."

  My eyes studied her face, shifted to her forehead. I found myself thinking that was where I should have to hit her; a very hard blow with something heavy that would crush the bone. She would die quickly and without pain.

  "David!"

  I jerked my mind back to what she had been saying.

  "I'm sorry. I was thinking of something else. Yes, of course, I shall be here."

  She gave me a puzzled stare.

  "That is all then, David."

  I walked away from her.

  I had to find a weapon with which to kill her. That was something I had overlooked. It would have to be something in the boathouse: something that Bellini would be likely to grab up and strike her with to stop her screaming.

  A little after eleven o'clock I saw Laura drive away in the Alfa-Romeo, heading towards Sesto Calendo. As soon as the car was out of sight, I went down to the boathouse.

  I unlocked the door to the apartment and went in, leaving the door ajar,

  I stood looking round the room.

  On the overmantel was a small bronze bust of Dante on a square pedestal. I crossed the room and lifted the bust by its head. It was heavy, but it had a good balance as I swung it in my hand.

  It made an ideal weapon. The sharp corners of the pedestal would make a fatal wound, provided I hit hard enough.

  I put the bust back where I had found it, and then looked for a likely hiding place where I could wait for Laura if she happened to be late.

  I went into the dressing room. The big wardrobe would be an excellent place of concealment. I opened the doors, making certain they opened silently. There was plenty of room for me to stand in.

  I closed the doors, and moved back into the sitting room.

  As I entered, I saw Valeria standing in the doorway, looking at me, her eyes startled.

  "Why, David, what are you doing here?"

  Her unexpected appearance jolted me badly. I wondered how long she had been standing in the doorway. If she had seen me handling the Dante bust!

  I stood staring at her, my brain frozen, my mind refusing to make words.

  "What's the matter, David? Why are you looking like that?"

  I pulled myself together with an effort, and smiled at her. It wasn't much of a smile, but it was a smile.

  "You startled me out of my wits," I said, my voice husky. "I thought it was Laura."

  "I'm sorry. You look so strange, David. Has anything happened?"

  "Why, no. You just startled me."

  She came over to me.

  "Are you sure nothing has happened? When you came out of that room I scarcely recognized you. You—you frightened me, David."

  "I didn't mean to," I said. "You really did startle me. I shouldn't be here, and I thought Laura had caught me.
The door was open, and I was curious to see what the place was like. It's pretty good, isn't it?"

  "I hate it," Valeria said, and shivered. "The atmosphere's horrible. Don't you feel it?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Anyway, let's go downstairs. What are you doing here?"

  "I was looking for you. I came down to the harbour, and when I didn't see you I came upstairs to see if Laura were here."

  "She's gone to Milan, I think."

  I followed her down the stairs, and we paused by the harbour wall.

  "David, about yesterday ..."

  "Sit down," I said, sitting on the harbour wall. I pulled her down beside me. "I've been thinking about yesterday. Did you really mean what you said?"

  "Of course I did, David." She put her hand on mine. "I meant every word of it."

  "And about that job?"

  "Yes."

  "You realize everything depends on your father—anyway, until you become of age?"

  "I know, and besides, I wouldn't do anything to worry him, David. But I think I can persuade him to give you the job if you'll take it. Then when you are working here, it will be easier to get him used to the idea that we love each other."

  "Yes. Well, I'll take the job, Valeria, if he'll let me have it."

  She looked quickly at me.

  "David, something has happened, hasn't it?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Yesterday you wouldn't consider taking it. You were so sure and determined. Why have you changed your mind?"

  "I hadn't had time to think about it," I said, not looking at her. "Last night I realized I was being pigheaded and proud. I could see I was throwing away our happiness together."

  "I don't want to be stupid about this, David, but I have a feeling something has happened to make you change your mind. You've changed too in yourself since last night. I don't know how to explain it, but you've become harder. There's a look about you . . ."

  I knew I had changed. I knew that the moment I had decided to get rid of Laura and Bellini some powerful force had taken charge of me. It was as if I had opened the door in my mind and let in a stranger.

  "Nonsense," I said, getting to my feet. "You're imagining it. Now listen, darling. Dr. Perelli doesn't want us to be together. We mustn't antagonize him. Nurse Fleming will tell him if you're away from the villa for long. He could stop my getting this job, so we must be careful. You go on back now."