I
At ten the following morning, I entered the Press Club and asked the steward if there was anyone waiting for me.
The steward said there was a gentleman in the coffee bar. From the tone of his voice he indicated that he was using the word “gentleman” as a matter of courtesy.
I found Sarti sitting in a corner, twiddling his hat and staring blankly at the opposite wall.
I took him over to a more comfortable chair and sat him down. He was clutching a leather portfolio which he rested on his fat knees. The garlic on his breath was enough to strip the barnacles off a ship’s keel.
“Well? What have you got?” I said.
“Following your instructions, signor,” he said, undoing the straps on his case, “I have set ten of my best men to work on la Signorina Chalmers’s background. I am still waiting for their reports, but in the meantime I have been able to gain a considerable amount of information from another source.” He scratched the tip of his ear, wriggling uncomfortably in his chair, then went on, “It is always possible that in making such a searching investigation unpleasant facts may come to light. I suggest that to prepare you for what is in my report, I should give you a brief resume of what I have discovered.”
From what I had already found out about Helen’s background, I wasn’t surprised that he and his men had made similar discoveries.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I know more or less what you are going to tell me. I warned you this was a confidential business. La signorina was the daughter of a very powerful man, and we’ve got to be careful.”
“I am aware of that, signor.” Sarti looked even more miserable. “You must realize Lieutenant Carlotti is also working along the same lines as we, and it will not be long before he will have the same information as I have here.” He tapped his portfolio. “To be more exact, he will have the information in three days’ time.”
I stared at him. “How do you know that?”
“Perhaps you know that la signorina was a drug addict?” Sarti said. “Her father made her a very small allowance. She needed considerable sums of money to buy drugs. I regret to tell you, signor, that to raise the money she blackmailed a number of men with whom she had been intimate.”
I suddenly wondered if he had found out that I had been a prospective victim of hers.
“I had more or less gathered that,” I said. “You didn’t answer my question. How do you know Carlotti… ?”
“If you will excuse me, signor,” Sarti broke in. “I will come to that in a moment. In this folder I have a list of names and addresses of the men from whom la signorina obtained money. I will leave the list for you to study.” He gave me a long, slow stare that brought me out into a sudden sweat. I was sure now that my name was on the list.
“How did you get hold of this information?” I asked, bringing out my packet of cigarettes and offering it to him.
“No, thank you. I don’t care for American cigarettes,” Sarti said, bowing. “If I may be allowed…” He fished out the usual Italian cigarette and lit it. “I obtained the list from il Signor Veroni, a private detective who once worked for the police. He only undertakes special cases and is very expensive. I have been able to help him from time to time with my much larger organization. Knowing you wanted information urgently, I approached him. He immediately produced all this information I have here from his files.”
“How did he get it?” I asked, leaning forward and staring at Sarti.
“He had been instructed to watch la signorina on her arrival in Rome. He and two of his men, taking it in turns, never let her out of their sight during the time she was in Rome.”
That really shook me.
“Did they follow her to Sorrento?” I asked.
“No. They had no instructions to do that. Veroni was told only to watch her while she was in Rome.”
“Who instructed him to watch her?”
Sarti smiled sadly.
“That I am unable to tell you, signor. You will understand that what I have already told you is strictly confidential. It is only because Veroni is my very good friend, and also because I gave him my sacred word that I would not pass on the information, that he agreed to help me.”
“As you’ve broken your sacred word already,” I said impatiently, “what’s to stop you telling me who instructed him?”
Sarti lifted his shoulders.
“Nothing, signor, except that he didn’t tell me.” I sat back.
“You said Carlotti would have this information in three days time. How do you know this?”
“Veroni is giving the information to the Lieutenant. It was I who persuaded him not to do so until this period has elapsed.”
“But why should he give Carlotti this information?”
“Because he suspects la signorina was murdered,” Sarti said mournfully, “and he feels that it is his duty to give the Lieutenant the information. It is only when investigators help the police that the police in their turn will help them.”
“Why have you told him to hold up the information for three days?”
He moved uncomfortably.
“If you will kindly read through the report I have prepared, you will see the reason, signor. You are my client. There may be things you wish to do. Let us say I have gained a little time for you.”
I tried to meet his eyes, but I didn’t make it. I stubbed out my cigarette and lit another. I was feeling pretty bad.
“My name is on the list, is that it?” I said, trying to make it sound casual.
Sarti inclined his head.
“Yes, signor. It is known that you went to Naples on the afternoon she died. It is known you visited her apartment twice during the night. It is also known that she telephoned you at your office and asked you to bring a piece of photographic equipment with you when you went to join her at Sorrento, and that she used, while speaking to you, the name of Mrs. Douglas
Sherrard. Veroni took the precaution to tap your telephone line.”
I sat for a moment, motionless.
“And Veroni is going to turn this information over to Carlotti?”
Sarti looked as if he were going to cry.
“He feels it is his duty, signor; besides, he knows he could get into serious trouble by withholding evidence in a murder case. He could be charged as an accessory.”
“But in spite of that he is still willing to give me three days’ grace?”
“I have persuaded him to do so, signor.”
I looked at him, feeling like a rabbit who has seen a ferret in its burrow. This was it. This was something I just couldn’t lie myself out of. If Carlotti knew I was Douglas Sherrard, he wouldn’t even need the note that I had left for Helen. He had only to hammer away at me, and sooner or later I would crack. I wasn’t kidding myself that I could get out of this spot once Carlotti had Veroni’s report in his hands.
“Perhaps you would care to study the report, signor?” Sarti said. He was careful not to look at me. He managed to exude the sympathetic, mournful air of an undertaker. “Then perhaps we might talk again. You may have instructions for me.”
I had an idea that there was something sinister behind this remark, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Let me have it,” I said. “If you’re not in a hurry, you might wait here. Give me half an hour, will you?”
“Certainly, signor,” he said, and pulled a sheaf of papers from his portfolio. He handed them to me. “I am in no hurry.”
I took the papers and, leaving him, I walked down the corridor to the cocktail bar. At this hour and the fact that it was Sunday, I had the place to myself.
