You Find Him – I'll Fix Him

  Nothing was said during the drive up to the villa. When we got there, and I had got out of the car to open the wrought-iron gates and got back in again, and we had crawled up the drive, I saw the Lincoln convertible was still standing on the tarmac before the front door.

  As Chalmers got out of the Rolls, he said, "Is this her car?"

  I said it was.

  He glanced at it and then went on up the steps and into the villa. I went after him.

  The chauffeur watched us without interest. As soon as Chalmers's back was turned, he reached for a cigarette.

  I kept in the background while Chalmers looked the villa over. He left the bedroom to the last and he spent some time in there. Curious to see what be was up to, I edged to the doorway and looked in.

  He was sitting on the bed beside one of Helen's suitcases, his big, fat hands in a mass of her nylon underwear while he stared fixedly out of the window.

  There was a look on his face that turned me cold, and I moved silently back until he was out of my sight, then I sat down and lit a cigarette.

  The past two days had been the worst I had ever lived through. I felt I was caught in a trap and was waiting for the hunter to come along and finish me off.

  The fact that Carlotti had traced me from Sorrento to the villa, that he knew I had been wearing a grey suit, that he knew exactly when Helen had died and that I, as the mysterious man in the grey suit, had been up there at that time, made my flesh creep.

  I had lain awake most of the night, worrying and thinking, and as I sat waiting while Chalmers was going through his daughter's things, I still worried.

  He came out eventually and walked slowly across the lounge to the window.

  I watched him, wondering what was going on in his mind. He remained like that for several minutes, then he turned and came over to sit in a chair near where I was sitting.

  "You didn't see much of Helen when she was in Rome?" he asked, staring at me with his rain-coloured eyes.

  This question was unexpected and I felt myself stiffen.

  "No. I called her twice, but she didn't seem to want me around," I said. "I guess she looked on me as her father's employee."

  Chalmers nodded.

  "You have no idea who her friends were?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  "She obviously got into pretty rotten company."

  I didn't say anything.

  "I suppose this guy Sherrard gave her the jewels and the car," he went on, staring down at his freckled hands. "It looks as if I made a mistake keeping her so short of money. I should have given her more and sent some woman along with her. When a good-looking punk comes along, well-heeled with money, and is willing to give lavish presents, it doesn't matter how decent a girl is, it's a temptation not to fall for him. I know enough about human nature to know that. I shouldn't have put her in the way of such temptation." He produced a cigar and began to peel off its cellophane wrapping. "She was a thoroughly decent girl, Dawson," he went on. "She was a student; a serious-minded girl. She wanted to study architecture. That's why I let her come to

Italy. Rome is the blood and bones of architects!"

I took out my handkerchief and wiped my face. I didn't say anything.

  "I have a pretty high opinion of you," he went on. "I wouldn't be giving you the foreign desk if I hadn't. I've fixed this coroner fella: he's going to bring in a verdict of accidental death. There's going to be no talk about pregnancy. I've had a word with the police chief. He's agreed to let the thing lie. The press will roe the line. I've had a word in that direction too. So now we have a clear field. I'm going to leave this to you. I have to be in New York by the day after tomorrow. I haven't the time to dig into this thing myself, but you have. From now on, Dawson, you have nothing else to do but to find Sherrard."

  I sat frozen, staring at him.

  "Find Sherrard?" I repeated stupidly.

  Chalmers nodded.

  "That's right. Sherrard seduced my daughter, and now he's going to damn well pay for it. But we've got to find him first. That's going to be your job. You can have all the money you want and all the help too. You can hire a flock of private detectives. I'll have some sent out from New York if they're no good here. It won't be easy. It's obvious he wasn't using his real name, but somewhere along the line he must have left a clue, and once you find that, you'll find other clues, then you'll find him."

  "You can rely on me, Mr. Chalmers," I somehow managed to get out.

  "Let me know how you're going to tackle the job. I want to be kept informed of every move you make. If I think of anything, I'll let you know. The thing to do is to find him, and find him fast."

  "What happens when we do find him?"

  I had to ask that question. I had to know.

  He looked at me, and there was an expression in his eyes that turned my mouth dry.