“And no funny business, Mac. I have a little fortune tied up in that stuff, and I’ll fix you for sure if you try a doublecross.” His eyes hardened as he stared at me. “You’re on the hook, so don’t forget it. You’re on it for keep.”
“What happens if Carlotti finds out I was at the villa when Helen died?”
“Let him prove it,” Carlo said. “If he gets too tough, I’ll fix an alibi for you. I’ve got ways of fixing alibis. You’ve got nothing to worry about so long as you play with me. You and I can work this racket for years. There’s the Swiss run you can handle too.”
“Looks like I’ve got myself a new career.”
“That’s the idea.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Well, Mac, I’ve got things to do. You be set to leave on Friday. Okay?”
I got slowly to my feet.
“I guess so.”
He moved around me, keeping his distance and watching me.
I paused by the table and looked at the framed photograph.
“Is this your girl-friend?” I asked.
He moved a little closer, but he was still out of reach.
“Never mind who she is… beat it, Mac. I’ve got things to do.”
I lifted the frame.
“Some dish. Is she on drugs too?”
With a snarl, he stepped up to me and snatched the frame out of my hand. That put his right hand out of action. I gave the vase of carnations a swipe with my left hand and grabbed the paper-weight with my right hand.
The vase, water and carnations exploded against Carlo’s knees. For a split-second he looked down, cursing.
I had the paper-weight balled in my fist. I hit him on the side of his head with everything I had got packed behind the punch.
He went down on his knees. I saw his eyes roll back. I clubbed him on the top of his head and he slid forward, stretching out at my feet.
I dropped the paper-weight and knelt beside him. That was a mistake. He was unbelievably tough. His right hand groped upwards towards my throat and he very nearly had me. I knocked his arm aside as he levered himself upwards. His eyes were blank. He was practically out, but he was still dangerous. I set myself, and as he lifted his head, I hung a punch on his jaw that jarred me from my fist to my elbow. His head slammed back on the floor and he went limp.
Breathing hard, I caught hold of him and rolled him over on his face. I slid my hand into his hip pocket and my fingers closed over a leather wallet.
As I was pulling the wallet out, the door jerked open and Myra Setti came in.
She held a .38 automatic in her hand and she pointed it at me.
III
For a long moment we looked at each other. There was a look in her eyes that told me she would shoot if I gave her the slightest encouragement, so I remained motionless, my hand half in Carlo’s pocket.
“Take your hand away!” she said.
Slowly I withdrew my hand from Carlo’s pocket. He stirred, half-turned over and made a growling sound in his throat.
“Get away from him!” she said sharply.
I stood up and backed away.
Carlo pushed himself on to his hands and knees, shook his head and then staggered to his feet. For a moment he stood swaying backwards and forwards, his legs rubbery, then he got his balance, shook his head again and looked over at me. I expected to see a vicious, furious expression on his face, but, instead, he grinned.
“You’ve got more guts than I thought you had, Mac,” he said, and ruefully rubbed the side of his head. “I haven’t been hit so hard for years. You didn’t really think I’d be such a sucker as to carry that note around, did you?”
“It was worth a try,” I said.
“What is all this?” Myra demanded impatiently. “Who’s your playmate?” She didn’t lower the gun nor did she take her eyes off me.
“This is Dawson — the guy I was telling you about. He’s taking the stuff to Nice on Friday,” Carlo said. He touched his head again and grimaced.
“Look at the mess you two apes have made. Get out of here!” she said. “Go on, clear out, both of you!”
“Aw, skip it!” Carlo said. “You’re always beefing about something. I want to talk to you.” He turned to me. “Go on, Mac, scram. Don’t try that dodge again. Next time I’ll get tough too.”
I looked dejected again.
“I’m on my way,” I said, and slouched towards the door.
Myra gave me a contemptuous look and turned her back on me. As I passed her, I grabbed the gun out of her hand, gave her a shove with my shoulder that sent her reeling into one of the lounging chairs, spun around and covered Carlo.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s have that wallet!”
For a long moment he stood transfixed, then he threw back his head and gave a burst of raucous laughter that rattled the windows.
“Gee! You’ll kill me!” he bellowed, slapping his thigh. “Talk about crust!”
“Give me that wallet!” I said, and there was something in my voice that made him stiffen.
“Listen, dope, it’s not on me,” he said, his face hardening.
“If you don’t want a slug in the leg, you’ll chuck the wallet right here!”
We stared at each other. He saw I wasn’t fooling. He suddenly grinned, took the wallet from his hip-pocket and tossed it at my feet.
I kept him covered, bent, picked it up, backed against the wall and went through the wallet. It was stuffed with ten thousand lire notes, but there was no other paper in it.
Myra was glaring at me, her eyes smouldering.
“Some kid, isn’t he?” Carlo said to her. “Nearly as tough as I am. But we’ve got him hamstrung. He’s got to do what he’s told. Haven’t you, pally?”
I tossed him the wallet.
“Looks like it,” I said. “But watch out: it won’t be all that easy.”
I put the gun on the table and walked out.
Carlo’s loud explosive laughter followed me.
It was still raining as I walked down the steps to the drive. Near the front door was the dark green Renault. Behind it stood the Cadillac.
I broke into a run, reached the street, and kept on running until I reached my car. I drove fast to my apartment, left the car outside, bolted up the stairs into my lounge. Without taking off my soaked raincoat I called the International Investigating Agency and asked for Sarti. I hadn’t much hope of finding him in as it was now getting on for half-past ten, but he came on the line almost at once.
“The Renault I was talking about is standing in the drive of the villa Palestra on viale Paolo Veronese,” I said. “Get some men to cover it right away. I want to know where the driver goes when he leaves. Watch out: he’ll probably be on the lookout for a tail.”
Sarti said he would take care of it at once. I heard him speaking to someone, giving instructions to get men out to Myra’s villa.
When he was through, I asked, “Any news for me?”
“I will have something for you by to-morrow morning, signor.”
