You Find Him – I'll Fix Him

  "Which is another way of saying I'm in the way and will I please scram," I said, smiling at him.

  "I've some letters to dictate."

  Gina had gone to a filing-cabinet. She came back with my passport.

  "I'll be ready for you in five minutes, Miss Valetti," Maxwell said, making for his office. "So long Ed."

  "So long."

  When he had gone into the inner office and had shut the door, Gina and I exchanged looks. I winked at her.

  "I'll be getting along. I'll give you a call when I've found a hotel."

  "All right, Ed."

  "I won't be going for a couple of days. I'll be at my apartment until Thursday morning. If anything blows up, you'll know where to reach me."

  She looked sharply at me.

  "But you're on vacation. Nothing will blow up that Mr. Maxwell can't handle."

  I forced a grin.

  "I know that, but all the same, should you want me, I'll be at my apartment. So long for now."

  I left her staring blankly after me and went down to my car.

  I wasn't sure if it had been wise to have given Gina this hint, but I knew sooner or later the news would break about Helen's death. The police, once they found out who she was, were bound to contact the office, and I was anxious to be in on the investigation from the beginning.

  I returned to my apartment.

  I wasn't in the mood to work on my novel Helen's death lay on my mind like a pall. The more I thought about her, the more I realized what a fool I had been. I had been swept off my feet by her physical attractions. I discovered now I hadn't ever been fond of her. Her death, apart from the worry it caused me as to its repercussion on my life, meant little to me. I realized, too, that I shouldn't have run away as I had. I should have had the courage to have called the police and told them the truth. Until the inquest was over and the verdict of accidental death recorded, I knew I wasn't going to have an easy moment.

  There was bound to be an inquiry about the mysterious Douglas Sherrard. Helen had said that she had rented the villa in that name. The estate agent was certain to give the police that information. Questions would be asked: who is Douglas Sherrard? Where is he? Maybe the police wouldn't get too curious. They would learn that Helen wasn't Mrs. Douglas Sherrard. They would guess she had arranged an affair with some man and the man hadn't shown up. Would they be content to drop that side of the investigation? Had I covered my tracks well enough to remain undiscovered if they did search for Sherrard?

  I sat in my big lounge that overlooked the Roman forum and sweated. When, around four o'clock the telephone bell rang, I could scarcely force myself out of my chair to answer it.

  "Hello?" I said, aware that my voice sounded like the croak of a frog.

  "Is that you, Ed?"

  I recognized Maxwell's voice.

  "Sure, it's me. Who else do you think it is?"

  "Will you come over right away?" He sounded excited and flustered. "My God! I've got a hell of a thing dropped into my lap. The police have just phoned. They say they've found Helen Chalmers . . . she's dead!"

  "Dead! What happened?"

  "Come over, will you? They're arriving at any moment, and I want you here."

  "I'll be right over," I said, and hung up.

  This was it. It had started a little sooner than I had expected. I crossed the room, poured out two fingers of Scotch and drank it. I noticed my hands were unsteady, and when I looked at myself in the mirror over the Liquor cabinet, I saw my face was the colour of tallow and my eyes looked scared.

  I left the apartment and went down to the underground garage. By the time I had driven out into the heavy traffic the whisky was beginning to bite. I didn't feel quite so scared. I finally got rid of my shakes as I pulled up outside the Western Telegram building.

  I found Maxwell and Gina in the outer office. Maxwell looked bad. His face was white as a fresh fall of snow. Gina looked worried too. She gave me an uneasy stare as I came in, and then moved into the background, but I felt she continued to watch me.

  "Am I glad to see you!" Maxwell exclaimed. His hostility and smoothness had gone. "What's the old man going to say when he hears? Who's going to break the news to him?"

  "Relax," I said sharply. "What happened? Come on! Let's have it!"

  "They didn't give me any details. They just said she had been found dead. She fell off a cliff at Sorrento."

  "Fell off a cliff?" I was acting hard now. "What was she doing in Sorrento?"

  "I don't know." Maxwell nervously lit a cigarette. "This is just my luck to have a thing happen like this on my first trip out here. Look, Ed, you'll have to tell Chalmers. He'll shoot his top."

  "Take it easy. I'll tell him. What I can't understand is why she was at Sorrento."

  "Maybe the police know. My God! This would happen to me!" He pounded his fist into the palm of his hand. "You've got to handle it, Ed. You know what Chalmers is like. He'll want an inquiry. He's bound to want an inquiry. He'll expect ..."

  "Oh, pipe down!" I said. "Stop working yourself up. This isn't our fault. If he wants an inquiry, he can have one."