'Oh, darling, it's been dreadful for you!'
'It's been bad, but I asked for it. If I could only pin Helen's death on Carlo I would be in the clear. I just can't see how I'm going to do it'
'You must tell Carlotti the whole story just as you've told it to me. It rings true. He'll understand. You must tell him.'
I shook my head.
'There's too much evidence against me. I should have told him before. Hell only think my nerve's cracked and I'm trying to get out of it. He'll arrest me, and then I won't be able to get after Carlo. I've got to fix Carlo myself if that's possible.'
'No, please, Ed. You must tell him. I am sure it's the only thing to do.'
'Well, I'll think about it. I'm not going to tell him yet.'
'Ed! I've suddenly thought of something,' Gina said, jumping to her feet. 'Yesterday while I was here the postman brought a carton of film addressed to Helen.'
I stared at her.
'A carton of film!'
'Yes. She must have sent it to be processed.'
I was aware that my heart was beginning to thump painfully. 'Have you got it?'
She opened her handbag and took out a yellow carton.
'It may be a film she took in Sorrento,' she said, and held out the carton to me.
As I reached for it, the door swung open. We both turned quickly.
Carlo stood in the doorway, his thick lips parted in a grin.
'I'll have that,' he said. 'I've been waiting days for that damn thing to turn up. Give it here!'
III
Gina's reflexes worked a lot faster than mine. She must have recognized Carlo from my description the moment she saw him. She whipped the canon into her bag and was on her feet by the time Carlo was half-way across the lounge.
She spun on her heel and made a dash for the bedroom door.
Snarling Carlo jumped forward, his thick fingers reaching for her. As he passed me, I shot out my foot and hooked his leg from under him. He sprawled headlong, his fingers closing on Gina's blouse. She gave a frantic twist of her body. The thin material tore from her shoulder and she broke free. She didn't attempt to take the longer way around the room to the front door. She dashed into the bedroom, slammed the door, and I heard the key turn.
The apartment was on the fourth floor. There was no escape from the bedroom, but at least the door was solid. Carlo would have a job to break it down.
All this flashed through my mind as I heaved myself out of the chair I was sitting in.
Carlo was still sprawled on the floor, cursing. I didn't make the mistake of tangling with him. I jumped across the room to the fireplace and snatched up a heavy steel poker. He was on his feet as I turned.
We faced each other.
He crouched, his big hands held out before him, his thick fingers hooked. There was an expression on his face that made him look like something out of the jungle.
'Okay, you dirty double-crosser,' he said softly. 'Now you're really going to get it.'
I waited for him.
He began to move slowly forward, circling a little to my left, his black eyes vicious and intent. I turned slightly, set for his rush, the poker in readiness. I knew I could stop him if I landed one good smash on his head.
But I underestimated his speed. I knew he was fast, but I didn't realize just how fast he could be until he suddenly dived for my knees.
His shoulder crashed against my thighs as I brought down the poker which landed across his shoulders, missing his head. I felt as if a house had fallen on me. We went down together with a thump that rocked the room.
I let go of the poker and drove my fist into his face. I couldn't get much weight behind the punch, but it sent his head back. I aimed another punch at his throat, but my fist sailed past his head as he twisted aside. He caught me on the side of my neck with a clubbing punch that dazed me.
I got my hand under his chin and heaved him off me. He swung a punch at my head. I blocked it with my right arm, kicked him in the chest and sent him crashing against the settee that shot across the room, mowing down an occasional table and a standard lamp.
I was on my feet in time to meet his rush. We collided like a couple of fighting bulls. I hung a jolting right on the side of his jaw and took a thump in the ribs, that turned me sick.
He backed away; his face contorted with savage rage. He showed his teeth in a snarling grimace. I steadied myself and waited for him. As he came in, I shoved my left into his face, jolting his head back. I jumped away as he countered with a punch that swished past my jaw, bringing him forward. I hooked him on the side of his head, catching him too high up to damage him. He crowded me, bashing my ribs with four short-arm jolts that thumped the breath out of me. I broke away from him, jumped behind an armchair, and as he came at me, I shoved the chair at him, spoiling his rush.
Punch for punch, I knew he was too good for me. He hit with the force of a steam hammer, and every time he caught me, I weakened.
I began to back away. He moved forward, blood trickling down his chin from a cut lip. As he came within reach, I shot out my left. My fist caught him on the nose, but it didn't stop him. He swung at me. His fist came over my shoulder and exploded against my ear. It was a hell of a punch, and I felt my knees sag. I threw up my hands to protect my jaw and took another punch to the body. I went down.
I expected him to finish me, but he was too anxious to get at Gina. He left me and charged across the room. He took a flying kick at the bedroom door; his foot landing against the lock. The door split, but the lock held.
From inside the room I heard the crash of breaking glass and then the sound of Gina's screaming out of the broken window at the top of her voice.
Somehow I got to my feet. My legs felt like rubber sticks. I reeled forward as he set himself for another kick at the lock. I flung my arm around his neck and dragged him over backwards. I got a lock on his throat. But it was like holding on to a wild cat. He was much too strong for me. He dragged my arm from his throat, drove his elbow into my body, turned, and his fingers closed around my throat. I got my hand under his chin and exerted pressure. For a long moment we remained motionless; his fingers digging into my throat; my hand slowly wedging his head back. My hold hurt him more than his hurt me and he let go, heaved backwards, scrambled to his feet as I got up on to my knees.
He set himself and swung a punch. I saw it coming, but I was too far gone to get out of its way. Lights exploded before my eyes and I went down.
I remained out for maybe three or four seconds. The sound of the bedroom door crashing open brought me round. I heard a wild scream and I knew he had got to Gina.
I staggered up. Near me, on the floor, was the poker. My fingers closed around it. I staggered across the room and into the bedroom.
Carlo had Gina flat on her back across the bed. One of his big hands gripped her throat. He knelt over her. He was shouting: 'Where is it? Come on! Give it to me!'
I swung the poker. He half-turned, but he was a shade too late. The poker came down on top of his head. His hand slid off Gina's throat. He supped sideways. I hit him again. He spread out on the floor.
I dropped the poker, stepped over him and leaned over Gina.
'Did he hurt you?'
She looked up at me, her face white. She tried to smile.
