There was a long, nerve-racking pause while Carlo remained motionless, his head cocked on one side as if he were listening.
I held my breath, my heart slamming against my ribs and I waited.
He moved slowly into the middle of the hall. Then he stopped, his hands on his hips, his long legs apart, facing the stairs.
The light from the overhead lamp fell fully on him. He was as Frenzi had described him: a bull-necked, blunt- featured, handsome animal He was wearing a black turtle neck sweater, black trousers, the ends of which were tucked into a pair of highly polished Mexican boots. He had a small gold ring in the lobe of his right ear, and he looked as big and as strong as a fighting bull.
For a long moment he stared up at the exact spot where I was standing. I was sure he couldn’t see me. I didn’t dare move in case the movement drew his attention to me.
Then suddenly he bawled, “Come on down or I’ll come up and fetch yah down!”
PART NINE
I
I came down.
There was nothing else I could do. There was no room up on the landing if it came to a fight and, besides, the only way out of the villa was down the stairs and out through the front door or one of the ground-floor windows.
I came down slowly.
I’m not exactly a pigmy, but I didn’t kid myself that I had much chance against this bull of a man. By the way he had moved from the lounge to the centre of the hall I knew he could be as fast as a streak of lightning once he got going.
When I reached half-way down the stairs I came into the full glare of the hall light, and I stopped so he could take a look at me.
He grinned, showing big, white even teeth.
“Hello, Mac,” he said. “Don’t think this is a surprise. I was right behind you all the way from your joint to this. Come on down. I’ve been waiting to have a talk with you.”
He took four paces back so he wouldn’t be too close to me when I reached the hall. I came down. If he went for me, I’d try to handle him, but I wasn’t starting anything — anyway, not just yet.
“Go in there and sit down,” he went on, jerking his thumb towards the lounge.
I went in there, chose a comfortable chair that faced the door and sat down. By now I had control of my nerves. I wondered what he was going to do. I doubted if he would call the police. I had only to show them my things upstairs for him to be in a worse jam than I.
He followed me into the lounge and sat on the arm of a big leather chair, facing me. He was still grinning. The zigzag scar on his face looked sharply white against the deep tan of his skin.
“Find your stuff up there?” he asked, taking out a pack of American cigarettes. He flicked one out, pasted it on his duck lower lip and set fire to it with a match he scratched alight with the thumb-nail. He looked like a shot from a Hollywood gangster movie when he did that.
“I found it,” I said. “What have you done with the camera?”
He blew smoke towards me.
“I’ll do the talking, Mac,” he said. “You listen and answer. How did you get on to this place?”
“A girl wrote the telephone number on her wall. It wasn’t difficult to get the address,” I said.
“Helen?”
“That’s right.”
He pulled a face.
“The dumb cluck.” He leaned forward. “What did the copper want with you this afternoon?”
I suddenly wasn’t scared of him any more. I told myself the hell with him. I wasn’t going to sit there and answer his questions.
“Why don’t you ask him?” I said.
“I’m asking you.” His smile went away. There was a sudden vicious look in his eyes. “Let’s get this straight. You don’t want me to get tough with you, do you?” He laid his hands on his knees so I could see them and slowly closed them into fists. They were sharp-knuckled, big fists that looked as if they had been carved out of a hunk of mahogany. “I’ll tell you something: I like to hit a guy. When I hit him, he stays hit. Right now I want to talk to you, so don’t make me hit you. What did the copper say?”
I braced myself.
“Go ahead and ask him.”
I was half-way out of the chair by the time he reached me. I had been a mug to have sat in such a low chair. If I had sat on the arm as he had done I would have been more ready for his rush. He came across the space between us so fast I hadn’t a chance. He threw a left-hand towards my stomach that I managed to knock aside, but he was only making an opening for his right. I didn’t see it coming. I had a brief glimpse of his brown, snarling face and his gleaming teeth when something that felt like a club hammer slammed against the side of my jaw. The room exploded into a blinding flash of white light. I was only vaguely aware that I was falling, then black oblivion wiped out everything.
I came to the surface in about five or six minutes. I found myself spread out in the lounging chair with a sore jaw and a bead that pulsated like the breathing bag of a dentin’s gas equipment.
Carlo was sitting close to me. He kept slamming his balled-up fist into the palm of his hand as if he were itching to hang another bone crusher on my jaw.
I struggled into an upright position and looked at him, trying to get him into focus. That punch had taken a lot of steam out of me.
“Okay, Mac, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now, let’s start again. The next time I hit you, I’ll bust your jaw. What did the copper want?”
I tested my teeth with the tip of my tongue. None of them seemed loose. I felt cold, and there was a rage growing in me that made me want to get to close quarters with this thug and maim him. But I wasn’t all that crazy in the head. Maybe I am big and fairly tough, but I know when I am out of my class. I wouldn’t mix things with Rocky Marciano: net because I’d be scared to, but because I know I wouldn’t stand a chance. I knew if it came to a fight, this bull of a man was too strong and much, much too fast for me.
The way to take him was to surprise him. There was no other way, and I’d have to have a club in my hand to slow him down first.
“He wanted the names of Helen’s men friends,” I said thickly. It hurt to speak.
Carlo scratched the end of his nose.
“Why?”
“Because he’s hunting for her killer.”
I hoped that would faze him, but it didn’t. Instead, his grin switched on again, and he left off pounding his fist into his palm.
“Is that right? He thinks she was knocked off?”
“He’s sure of it.”
“Well, well” He continued to grin. “I didn’t think he’d be that smart.” He lit a cigarette. “Here, Mac, have one. You look as if you could use a smoke.”
I took the cigarette and the box of matches he nicked into my lap. I lit the cigarette and dragged down a lungful of smoke.
“Why is he so sure she was knocked off?” he asked. “You ripped the film out of the camera and stole all her
