nonsense, I will instruct my bank to send that envelope immediately to Herman! I’m calling your bluff.”
“If you do that, you go to jail.”
“Listen, you stupid bitch, can’t you see I have no alternative? I’m willing to bet against my chance of going to jail against your chances of inheriting sixty million dollars,” Archer said. “I’ll give you two minutes to give me that stock list or I leave here and when I get back to Lausanne I give you my word the photos go to Herman!”
“Your word?” She smiled bitterly. “What’s that worth?”
“You wait and see!”
He shot his cuff and regarded his watch.
“Two minutes!”
“Jack… will you please write to the bank and ask them to send me the photos? I’m asking this for your sake as well as mine,” Helga said.
“One minute!”
She lifted her hands and in despair, dropped them in her lap.
He pulled his cuff over his watch.
“Okay, Helga. That’s it. So we’re no longer partners. The photos will be 113
delivered to Herman as he leaves Geneva airport. I’ll be able to put up with life in a prison cell, thinking of you booted out of your comfortable nest.”
He turned and marched to the door, jerked it open and found himself confronted by Larry.
He reared back as if he had touched a live cable, stumbled and had to make an effort to regain his balance.
Larry moved into the room, his jaw moving rhythmically, his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Hi, Fatso,” he said in his quiet drawl. “Remember me?”
“What are you doing here?” Archer snarled. He whirled around, glaring at Helga. “Is this your doing?”
“You shouldn’t have done this to me,” Helga said quietly. “You should have known you couldn’t get away with blackmailing me. Now, write to the bank and tell them to send the photos.” She pointed to the desk. “Do it at once!”
“I’ll see you damned first!” Archer snarled. “You don’t think this pimp of yours frightens me?”
Larry reached out, grabbed Archer’s arm and spun’ him around. His open right hand, moving so fast it looked to Helga like a blur of white, slapped Archer’s face. The sound of his palm against Archer’s fat jowl was like a pistol shot. She saw something fly out of Archer’s mouth as he staggered back. She looked down. Archer’s top denture lay at her feet: six gleaming white teeth set on a gold plate. She shut her eyes and turned away.
She heard Archer mumble something, then Larry, his voice sounding deadly, said, “Stay right where you are or I’ll tread on them!”
She braced herself and turned.
A livid red mark showed on Archer’s face. He looked changed without his top teeth and his lips had fallen in. To her, he looked old, stupid and frightened.
Larry had moved to where the denture had fallen. There was a hard grin on his face as he watched Archer.
“There’s plenty of the same unless you do what you’re told.”
Archer made a whinnying sound, then turning, he charged out of the room into the hall. Larry went after him, moving silently and swiftly.
The slapping sound came again. Helga stood motionless, fighting down the bile rising in her mouth. She heard Archer suddenly cry out. It was a horrible sound and she put her hands over her ears, but her hands couldn’t keep out the savage sound going on in the hall: the tramping of feet, the quick in-take of breath, the inhuman grunting of a man trying to exert all his strength, then the sound of a heavy fall that shook the villa.
She rushed to the open door.
Archer was lying on his back and Larry was standing over him. As she paused, Larry kicked the prostrated man in his shifting his heavy body by the force of his kick and making Archer cry out.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Helga cried. “Larry! Stop it!”
He frowned, looked blankly at her, and for a moment he didn’t seem to recognize her, then his face relaxed and he grinned, stepping back.
“He’s okay, ma’am… just trying to be younger than he
“Leave him alone!”
“Sure, ma’am.” Larry moved further away, then looking down at Archer, he said, “Come on, Fatso, get up. You’re not hurt… yet. Come on.”
Very slowly, Archer crawled to his feet. He staggered to the wall and leaned against it, breathing heavily and sagging at the knees. The right side of his face now showed a black bruise, tinged with red and a trickle of blood ran from the side of his mouth.
Helga looked away. The sight of his face sickened her.
“That’s the boy,” Larry said. “Now go in there and collect your teeth, then write that letter.”
Archer glared at him, then at Helga.
“By God! I’ll make you two pay for this,” he mumbled. He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the blood from his mouth. The spite and viciousness in his eyes chilled Helga.
“Sure… sure,” Larry said softly. “We know all about that. Go ahead… get in mere!”
Unsteadily and moving like a cripple, Archer walked into the sitting-room. He picked up his denture and put it in his mouth.
“Maybe, ma’am, you’d better write the letter. I don’t reckon he’s up to it,” Larry said, eyeing Archer.
“Yes,” Helga said.
“Sit down,” Larry said to Archer. “Take it easy.”
Archer sank into a chair and held his face in his hands. His breathing was very laboured and alarmed Helga.
“Is he all right?”
“Oh, sure, ma’am… he’s fine. Don’t worry about him,” Larry said. “You get that letter written.”
Helga went to the desk, took a portable Olivetti from one of the bottom drawers and put it on the desk. Her hands were shaking a little, and the paper rattled as she threaded it into the typewriter. She hesitated for a long moment, breathing deeply until she regained some composure, then she began to type.
The only sound in the big room was the clacking of the typewriter and Archer’s laboured breathing.
Larry stripped a stick of chewing gum and put it in his mouth.
It took Helga only a few minutes to complete the letter. She ripped the sheet out of the typewriter and checked what she had written.
She put the letter on the desk and looked at Archer who still sat motionless, his face in his hands.
“Jack…”
He didn’t move and Larry, frowning, gave him a hard poke in his back with his finger.
“The lady’s speaking to you, buster,” he said.
Archer looked up slowly and her heart sank when she saw the expression in his eyes. She saw then he had more steel in him than she had imagined. He had absorbed the first shock, and now his bruised face was set and his eyes glittered with the viciousness of a cornered animal.
“I’ll read the letter to you,” she said.
He pressed his hand to his aching face and continued to glare at her.
