You Find Him – I'll Fix Him

  It was my turn now to wander around the room. Fortunately, Frenzi wasn't looking at me. He remained in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

  'You see now why I think she could have been murdered,' he went on. 'She might have tried this stunt once too often. I can't believe she went to Sorrento alone. I'm sure there was a man with her. If she was murdered, all the police will have to do is to find him.'

  I didn't say anything.

  'What do you think I should do? I've been trying to make up my mind ever since I read of her death. Should I go to the police and tell them how she had tried to blackmail me? If they really think she was murdered, it would give them the motive.'

  By now I had got over my first shock. I returned to my chair and sat down.

  'You'll have to be careful,' I said. 'If Carlotti passed on what you tell him to Chalmers, you'd still be in trouble.'

  'Yes, I realize that.' He finished his brandy, got up and refilled his glass. 'But do you think I should do it?'

  I shook my head.

  'I don't. I think you should wait until the police are sure it murder. You don't want to rush into this thing. You can't afford to. You must wait and see how it develops.'

  'But suppose they find out she and I were lovers. Suppose they think, because I had a motive, that I killed her?'

  'Oh, talk sense, Giuseppe! You can prove you were nowhere near Sorrento when she died, can't you?'

'Well, yes. I was right here in Rome.'

'Then for the love of mike, don't be dramatic.'

He shrugged his shoulders.

'You are right. So you think I should say nothing to the police!'

  'Not yet. Chalmers suspects there's a man involved. He's like a mad bull right now. If you came forward, he would jump to the conclusion that you were the man and he'd go for you. You may as well know the facts: Helen was pregnant.'

  Frenzi's brandy glass slipped out of his fingers and dropped to the floor. The brandy made a little pool on the carpet. I gaped at me, his eyes widening.

  'Was she? I swear it wasn't me,' he said. 'My goodness I'm damned glad I didn't go to the police before I talked to you He picked up his glass. 'Look what I've done!' He went into the kitchen to find a cloth. While he was gone, I had time to do some thinking. If Carlotti believed and could prove that Helen was murdered, I knew he would make every effort to trace the mythological Sherrard. Had I covered my tracks well enough prevent him finding me?

  Frenzi came back and mopped up the spilt brandy. Squatting on his heels, he practically voiced my thoughts by saying, 'Carlotti is very thorough. I've never known him to fail on a murder case. He could get on to me, Ed.'

  He could get on to me, too.

  'You have an alibi he can't upset, so relax,' I told him. 'Chalmers has given me the job of finding the man who might have killed her. Maybe you can help me. Could he have been the American newspaper man you were telling me about?'

  Frenzi shook his head.

  'Not a chance. I was talking to him on the afternoon she died.'

  'Then who else is there? Any ideas?'

  'No,' I'm afraid not.'

  'There is a man she knew whose first name is Carlo. Do you happen to know anyone of that name?'

He thought for a moment, then shook his head.

'I don't think so.'

'Did you ever see her with any man?'

He rubbed his jaw, looking steadily at me.

'I saw her with you.'

I sat very still.

'Did you? Where was that?'

'You were coming out of a movie together.'

  'Chalmers wanted me to take her around,' I said. 'I did take her out once or twice. Apart from me, is there anyone else you can remember?'

  I knew he was too shrewd to be fooled by my attempt at casualness, but he was also too good a friend to embarrass me more than he had done already.

  'I did see her with a big, dark fellow at Luigi's once. I don't know who he was.'

  'How big?'

  'He was impressively big: built like a prize-fighter.'

  My mind jumped to the intruder I had seen in the villa. He too had been impressively big: he too had shoulders of a prizefighter.

  'Can you give me a description of him?'

  'I'm pretty sure he was an Italian. I should say he was around twenty-five or six; dark, blunt featured, good looking in an animal kind of way, if you know what I mean. He had a scar on his right cheek: a white, zigzag mark that could have been an old knife wound.'

  'And you have no idea who he is?'

  'None at all, but he's easy to recognize if you ever see him.'

'Yes. No other ideas?'

He shrugged.