does what I tell her,’ and he hung up.
Seething with rage, I dialed the Corporation.
A girl said in a bright, pleasant voice, ‘The Ferguson Electronic & Oil Corporation. Can I help you?’
‘Put me through to Miss Sonia Malcolm!’ I barked.
‘Excuse me, sir, is this a personal call?’
‘Never mind! Put me through!’
‘Hold it a moment, sir.’
I waited, blood hammering in my temples.
A long pause, then she came back on the line.
‘Miss Malcolm isn’t available, sir. Can I put you through to our staff controller?’
I slammed down the receiver.
Man! Was I fit to be tied!
chapter nine
The palm trees rustled in the breeze. The sea glittered in the sun. The beach was like a silver carpet.
Who the hell cared?
Frustration, fury and loneliness swamped my mind.
I wanted Sonia! I needed her!
I sat on the veranda, staring at the empty beach. A gull swooped out of the sun and flew away with a plaintive cry.
In my mind, I heard the voice of the staff controller:
I forced myself to relax. If this creep imagined he could dictate to me, he was in for a surprise! This was between Sonia and I! To hell with him!
My decision made, I got to my feet and walked to where I had parked the Merc, under the shade of a group of palms. I drove to the barrier. The guard, yet another squat, dark, sinister looking man, gave me a curt nod and lifted the pole.
I drove into the city. The time now was 17.05. I had no idea when the Ferguson Oil & Electronic Corporation released their staff. I hopefully decided when the staff did leave, they would leave by the back entrance.
It was a chance I had to take.
I cut down the side street, leading to the back entrance and the underground garage. I found parking space and maneuvered the Merc, to the curb, then I settled to wait. I was in a good position. I could see the exit of the garage. I could see the guard at the barrier.
Time crawled by. I kept looking at my watch. Just after 18.00, the exodus began. First, cars came from the garage. I looked at the men, driving: all well dressed, executive types. Then, some twenty minutes later, came the flood of secretaries, the clerks, the less important. All of them walking.
I started the engine, leaning forward, my heart thumping. There seemed no end to the stream of men and women: some talking, some pausing for a final word.
Then I saw her. She came up the ramp, wearing a cool looking beige dress, walking purposefully, and by herself.
No one spoke to her: no one waved. She was a new member of the staff.
She set off down the street, heading for the main boulevard. I gave her a good start, then drove slowly after her.
Once on the boulevard, I had trouble. I had to edge my car into the home going traffic, and once in, I was surrounded by slow moving cars. I could see her on the sidewalk, walking briskly. I tried to slow, but an impatient tap on the horn from the car behind me forced me on. I passed her, cursing. There was no parking space ahead of me. As I passed her I wanted to pull up, but again the tap on the horn kept me going. I nearly rammed into the car ahead of me as I watched her in my driving mirror. She kept moving, but I was now leaving her well behind.
The sidewalk was as crowded as the boulevard. If I lost her! I didn’t know where she lived! Then ahead of me, I saw a car pull slowly from the curb and edge into the traffic. I swung into the parking slot, didn’t wait to lock the car, but ran back down the sidewalk, dodging around people, looking frantically for Sonia.
I caught a glimpse of her as she turned down a side street. I ran, jostling and shoving against the stream of people until I reached the side street. There she was, walking briskly, out of the crowd. I lengthened my stride and came up to her.
‘Sonia!’
She whirled around.
There were only a few people on the sidewalk. They pressed on, ignoring us.
She stared at me.
‘What do you want?’
This wasn’t the Sonia I had been dreaming about.
Her expression was hostile, her eyes frightened.
‘Sonia!’ I said as I came to a standstill by her side. ‘I . . .’
I got no further.
With firm determination, she said, ‘Leave me alone! I don’t want anything to do with you! Leave me alone!’
‘Now listen, you mustn’t worry about that jerk, Macklin. I am Mr. Ferguson’s personal assistant. I don’t have to conform to their stupid rules. If I ask you to dinner, there is no problem. I . . .’
‘No problem for you, Mr. Stevens!’ she snapped. ‘Now you listen to me! I have slaved for this job. I am working as Mr. Ferguson’s assistant secretary. Mr. Macklin has told me that if I fraternize with you or any of the other members of the staff, I will be dismissed! Now, go away! I am not giving up this job for any man! If you don’t leave me alone, I will complain to Mr. Macklin!’
She turned and walked on, leaving me staring after her.
‘Tough,’ a well-known voice said from behind me.
I swung around to find Mazzo, smiling his ape-like smile.
‘Women are hell,’ he went on, ‘but she’s talking sense. She’s holding down a big job, Jerry, so think of her, and not of yourself.’
I gaped at him. I never expected to hear this shaven headed ape come out with a sentiment of that kind.
‘Let’s go and have a drink,’ he said.
Then I remembered I was looking at the man who had murdered Loretta.
‘Screw you and screw your drink,’ I said, and brushing by him, I walked to where I had parked the Merc. I sat behind the wheel, wrestling with my disappointment. Finally, I came to terms with myself.
Sonia was lost to me. I guessed she was probably as lonely as I was and been happy to accept my dinner invitation. Then Macklin had shown her the red light.
The bitter truth was that I meant nothing to her except a night out.
So what was I going to do with the evening and the night? I knew no one in this opulent city. I thought of the lonely cabin. To go back there and sit on my own was unthinkable. The idea of going to some restaurant and eat on my own was also unthinkable. I thought longingly of the people in Hollywood I could call: people I had had to drop, and who had dropped me because I had run out of money, but who would come flocking if they knew I was now earning one hundred thousand dollars a year.
This mood quickly passed. Those fair weather friends weren’t worth a goddamn.
So I sat there and brooded. Then out of the blue, an idea hit me. I had to find an occupation to keep my loneliness from swamping me. Why not write a detailed story of what I had experienced since Liz Martin, Lu Prentz’s secretary, had telephoned me, telling me Lu had a job for me.
The luxury cabin would no longer be lonely. I would sit at a typewriter and write the frightening story of my impersonation of John Merrill Ferguson, the murders of Larry Edwards, Charles Duvine and Loretta, of Mrs. Harriet
