You Find Him – I'll Fix 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.

  The bar steward appeared. He conveyed to me by his hurt look that this was no time to disturb him.

  I ordered a double whisky, carried the drink to a corner table and sat down. I took the whisky

neat. It did something to blot out my trapped feeling, but it didn't take away my fear.

  I read the twenty-odd pages of carefully typed script. It contained a list of fifteen names: most of them were familiar to me. Giuseppe Frenzi's name headed the list. Mine came halfway down. There were dates when Helen spent the night with Frenzi, when he called on her at her apartment, when she spent nights with other men. These I skipped through. I studied the details concerning my own activities with Helen. Sarti hadn't been lying when he had told me that Veroni and his men had never let Helen out of their sight. Every meeting I had had with her was carefully logged. Every word that she and I had ever said to each other over the telephone was there to read. There were details of other telephone conversations between her and other men, and it was so obvious now, after reading the report, that I was just another of her prospective blackmail victims.

  Three days!

  Could I possibly pin Helen's murder on Carlo before then? Would it be wiser to go to Carlotti and tell him the whole truth and let him get after Carlo? But why should he? He had only to listen to my story to be convinced that I had killed Helen. No ... that wasn't the way to handle it.

  Then a sudden thought struck me. There was not one mention of Carlo or Myra Setti in Veroni's report. Helen must have telephoned either one or the other at least once. The fact that Myra's telephone number had been scribbled on Helen's wall proved that. Then why wasn't Carlo or Myra in the report?