Jake went into the lounge. Myra came over and Jerry took her hand.
,
“May I kiss your daughter, boss?” he asked, grinning at Setti.
“Go ahead,” Setti said, shrugging his sholders. “If she wants it, why should I worry? Have any trouble coming over?’
“Not a thing.”
Myra and he kissed, then he pulled her on to his lap and put his arms around her.
“This is a good place for a run,” he went on, “but how are you going to get the stuff into Nice, boss?”
“Carlo’s fixed that,” Setti said. “Now, there’s a smart boy.”
Jerry’s face hardened.
“He could be too smart,” He looked at Myra. “Have you been seeing anything of him lately, babe?”
Myra’s eyes opened wide, innocently.
“Carlo? Don’t be crazy! Why should I want an ape like him around when I’ve got you?”
“I guess that’s right,” Jerry said, frowning. He didn’t seem convinced. “Well, watch out, baby. You keep clear of him.”
Setti sat back, smiling and listening.
“You’re jealous,” Myra said, and touched Jerry’s face. “You don’t have to be.”
Jerry patted her flank, then looked over at Setti.
“What’s Carlo fixed then?”
“He’s got a newspaper man to run the stuff into Nice: Ed Dawson of the Western Telegr
“Dawson!” Jerry sat forward. “I know that punk! I’ve seen him around in Rome. Is he doing it?”
“That’s the idea. Carlo’s got him where he wants him. We can’t go wrong with a guy like Dawson acting as carrier. Smartest thing Carlo’s ever done.”
“Well, for the love of mike! Yeah, that sure is smart.”
Jake came out with a whisky and soda and gave it to Jerry.
“Come on in, kid. I’ve got the dough for you,” Setti said, getting to his feet. “Are you going to stay for a while?”
“I don’t have to get back until to-morrow night.”
Myra got off Jerry’s lap and slid her arm though his.
“Never mind about the money now, honey,” she said. “Let’s go to my room. I want to talk to you.”
Jerry looked over at Setti.
“Is that okay with you, boss?”
Setti smiled.
“Sure. Myra’s a big girl now. She does what she likes. The dough’s all ready for you when you want it. When’s the next run?”
“Three weeks from to-night. It’s all fixed.”
Carrying his drink, Jerry followed Myra into the villa. Jake stared after them, frowning.
“Carlo’s going to stick a knife into that guy one of these days,” he said.
Setti laughed.
“Forget it! Let Myra have her fun. If she wants two boy friends, let her have them.” He tossed what remained of his cigar over the terrace. “Put the stuff in the safe, Jake. Carlo doesn’t want it until Thursday. You take it to Rome on Wednesday night… understand?”
Jake grunted. He picked up the oilskin package and the two men went into the villa.
As soon as they were out of sight, I got to my feet. Here was the way out for me. If the package failed to get into Carlo’s hands by Thursday, then I wouldn’t have to take it to Nice. There was only one way to handle this. I had to get back to Sorrento fast and alert Grandi.
I went down the steps towards the harbour, being careful to move silently. I reached the last few steps. I could see the red light on the harbour wall, and I paused in the shadows, looking for the man they had called Harry.
There was no sign of him. I hesitated. Where was he? I didn’t dare slide into the water until I knew just where he was. My eyes searched the dark shadows. I looked along both arms of the harbour. There was still no sign of him.
Then suddenly I became aware of soft breathing behind me. A cold creepy chill snaked up my back. I half- turned when a muscular, hairy arm hooked under my chin and slammed against my throat, and a hard, bony knee drove into my spine.
PART TWELVE
I
In the brief second before the arm tightened on my throat, cutting the air from my lungs, I realized this man, probably the one who they called Harry, was as strong, if not stronger, than I was. Already I was fighting for breath, and my lungs felt as if they were bursting. I couldn’t get at him, for he was bending me back, his knees grinding into my spine. There was only one way out of a hold like this: I let myself go limp. My legs buckled and I collapsed on my knees. As I did so I managed to arch my back and bring him forward.
I heard him give a muffled curse, and his grip on my throat tightened viciously. I made a desperate effort to heave him over my head, but he was too heavy. Instead, my heave unbalanced us both. My feet slipped on the wet steps and together we rolled into the sea.
The shock of landing in the water loosened his hold. I caught hold of his wrist and peeled his arm off my throat, then I twisted around so that I faced him and drove my hand under his chin, sending him over on his back. I broke free of him and rose to the surface gasping.
My one fear was that he would shout for help. Whatever happened those in the villa mustn’t know I had been up there.
He bobbed up within three yards of me. I saw him before he could shake the water out of his eyes. I dived under him, caught hold of one of his feet and dragged him down.
He kicked so violently that I had to let go of him. We both came to the surface together. I could just see his staring eyes and snarling mouth. He came at me and lifted his right hand out of the water. I saw a flash of steel. I threw myself sideways. The knife missed me by inches. I dived, came around in a tight circle, spotted the dark form of his body within reach and grabbed him around his waist, pulling him under the water. My left hand groped and found his right wrist.
He fought like a madman, and it was as much as I could do to hold him. I held him down as long as I could, then, when my own lungs were at bursting point, I let go of him and kicked my way up to the surface. He took four or five seconds longer to break surface, and when he did come up, I could see by his feeble strokes that he was on his last legs.
He had lost the knife, and as he tried desperately to get away from me, he gave a croaking shout.
I sprinted after him and, putting my hand between his shoulders, I shoved him under again. I dived after him, but now he was offering practically no resistance, and when we came to the surface once more he was done. He would have sunk if I hadn’t grabbed him by his collar and held him up. His head lolled on his shoulders and I couldn’t hear him breathe. I was only a few yards from the moored rowing-boat. I towed him over to it, and heaved him in, nearly upsetting the boat as I did so. I got in after him and knelt beside him. As he seemed in a bad way, I rolled him over on to his face so the water he had swallowed could drain out of him, then I untied the mooring line, got the oars out and began to row as hard and as fast as I could towards Sorrento.
I must have got about half-way — I had lost the lights of the villa — when Harry stirred and started to
