After a pause, Archer, smiling, said, aNothing to say?a aIam listening,a Helga said.

aYes, you were always a good listener. You were always a good bluffer too, but this time, Helga, I hold the four aces.a aWill you come to the point?a she said. aI suppose it is money. You look shabby enough to need money.a Archer flushed slightly. Before his theft, he had always prided himself on his appearance. He used to change his shirt twice a day, was always immaculate and paid a visit to the barber once a week. His enforced shabbiness was like a nagging toothache.

aSince you refused to help me in my trouble, life has been a little tiresome,a he said.

aYour trouble was that you became an embezzler, a forger and a blackmailer,a Helga said. aYou have only yourself to blame.a aNot quite the way to talk to me,a Archer said, a sudden snarl in his voice. a I . a aBut it is true, isnat it? Donat tell me you will deny that you are an embezzler, a forger and a blackmailer?a Helga said, lifting her eyebrows. aDonat let me add liar as well.a Feeling she was taking the initiative, Archer decided it was time to a.s.sert himself.

aI told your servant I was representing Mr. Grenvilleas interests.a He saw her stiffen at the mention of Grenvilleas name, but she still was upright, and still had that steely look in her eyes.

aWell?a aIt is rather an odd story, Helga,a Archer said. aDo sit down. It will take a little time, and I find it disturbing, seeing you standing there like the wrath of a G.o.ddess.a Helga moved to a chair and sat down.

Archer glanced out on to the terrace.

aAh, how nice! A shaker and a gla.s.s. Your usual vodka martini, I suspect. Actually Helga, I havenat had a vodka martini for many months. Excuse me.a He got up, crossed the terrace and poured the drink into Helgaas unfinished gla.s.s. He drank, refilled the gla.s.s and carrying it back, settled in his chair again.

aYour servant still makes excellent vodka martinis. How lucky you are to be able to afford a servant.a She sat still, her hands in her lap, her face expressionless. Inwardly, she was boiling with fury.

aAs I was saying,a Archer went on, athis is rather an odd story. Two days ago, I was approached by a man - obviously an Italian - who asked me if I would represent him for a fee of ten thousand francs.a Archer paused to sip his drink. aSince you refused to help me over this little trouble with your husbandas money, I have found it difficult to make a living. It would seem your husband had me blackballed. Whenever I applied for work, I was turned down, so ten thousand francs was a G.o.dsend to me.a He smiled at her. aThere may possibly come a time when you might lose your money, although I think this is doubtful, but let me tell you, when you have no money, when you are forced to wear a suit like the one I have on, and donat know when you will be able to buy another, when you are forced to eat at some lowly bistro, and sometimes go without dinner, you will find your att.i.tude towards what is right and what is wrong alters. So, when this man approached me, I listened. He told me you were living with Grenville, and that you appeared to be besotted with him. My client - I will call him that - has been watching both of you. He knows how rich you are. It seemed to him a good idea to kidnap Grenville and hold him to ransom, feeling confident you would want him back. My client is tough and vicious.a Archer paused, then went on, aIn fact, he made no secret that he is connected with the Mafia. Somehow, he learned that you and I were once close.a Archer smiled. aAnd we were, werenat we, Helga? Let us say, we were very close.a Helga remained motionless and listened but her hands turned into fists.

aHe considered me - since I had this old a.s.sociation with you - to be the right man to negotiate the ransom. So here I am.a aI will deal with this man direct, and not through you,a Helga said.

aYou have no choice. My client wishes to remain in the background. If you want your fancy man back, Helga, you must deal with me. And besides, I need my clientas fee.a Helga regarded him with loathing.

aSo you are not only an embezzler, a forger and a blackmailer, you are now a creature of the Mafia!a Again Archer flushed.

aI will remind you, you are not in a position to be abusive,a he said, a snarl in his voice. aYou will pay two million dollars if you want Grenville back. My client is prepared to give you three days to collect the money which is to be paid into a Swiss bank. So, at this time in three daysa time, I will call on you. It is up to you.a He finished his drink, set down the gla.s.s, then got to his feet. aI need not remind you, when dealing with the Mafia you should be very, very careful. It would be quite lethal for Grenville, so my client tells me, if you contact the police.a He smiled. aMy client also said that if the money isnat paid within three days, you will receive one of Grenvilleas ears.a Helga lost colour, but not her steel.

aIt is a savage thing,a Archer went on, aand it shocks me, but that is the way the Mafia works. They are utterly ruthless people. Donat think this is an idle threat. It has been done before, if you recall the Getty affair. So I would advise you to look through your stock holdings and sell to your advantage - that is, of course, if you want Grenville back. I havenat met him, but if you have taken a fancy to him, knowing your taste, I a.s.sume he must be handsome. With an ear less, he could be less handsome.a As he made for the door, he paused. aI was almost forgetting. My client gave me this sealed envelope. It is for you.a He put the envelope on the table. aI hear Grenville tried to be brave: a mistake, when in the hands of the Mafia.a He paused, then went on, aWell then, Helga, expect me in three daysa time. aBye for now.a Leaving the villa, he got into the Mercedes and drove away.

Her heart hammering, Helga s.n.a.t.c.hed up the envelope, tore it open, and took out three polaroid coloured prints. She took one horrified look at them, stifled a scream and dropped them on the floor as Hinkle came quietly into the room.

As Archer had antic.i.p.ated, the photographs completely shattered Helga. She loathed violence. She could never watch any violent movie. Time and again, she had snapped off the TV set when someone was about to be shot or hurt. All the steel in her evaporated. She buried her head in her hands and began to sob wildly.

aTheyave hurt him! I knew they would! Theyave hurt him!a she moaned.

Hinkle gave her a disapproving look and picked up the photographs. He regarded them, pursed his lips, then putting them on the table, he touched her lightly on her shoulder.

aI suggest, madame, you should control yourself,a he said severely.

She stared up at him, her eyes wild.

aLook what they have done to him! They are fiends! I must get the money at once! Iaa and she began to sob again.

Hinkle went over to the hi-fi set and snapped down the switch. Then he went to a drawer, and from it, took a powerful magnifying gla.s.s. Picking up the photographs, he examined them carefully. At first glance, they were impressive, showing Grenville lying on the floor, blood on his face, his eyes closed.

After studying the photographs under the magnifying gla.s.s for some moments, Hinkle nodded, and put them down on the table.

aMadame, if you can cease being hysterical,a he said, a snap in his voice, aI wish to tell you something.a Her face tear-stained, her body shaking, Helga looked up at him.

aLeave me alone! Go away!a aMadame, I wish to tell you something.a aWhat is it?a Picking up one of the photographs, he waved it at her.

aThis looks to me remarkably like tomato ketchup,a he said.

Helga was so astonished, she stopped crying.

aTomato ketchup?a Her voice was husky and unsteady. aHave you gone mad? What are you saying?a aBefore I entered Mr. Rolfeas service, madame, I had the misfortune to look after a gentleman in the movie business,a Hinkle said. aFrom him, I learned the art of make-up. Apparently, tomato ketchup is used to simulate blood.a aWhat are you trying to tell me?a The steel came back and her voice snapped.

Hinkle nodded his approval.

aI am suggesting, madame, that Mr. Grenville is not hurt. It would appear these photographs are fakes.a Helga stiffened.

aYou really think so, Hinkle? You donat think they have hurt him?a aI think it is most unlikely, madame.a aThe devils!a she clenched her fists. aBut I must get him out of their hands. Iaa aMadame, I would like to ask you a question.a aOh, for G.o.das sake, donat be so pompous!a she shrilled at him. aIam going out of my mind. What is it?a Again Hinkle nodded his approval. This was Helga Rolfe as he knew her, not an hysterical weakling.

aHow do you imagine these two men, who took Mr. Grenville away, got into the villa?a he asked.

aWhat the h.e.l.l has that to do with it?a Helga snapped. aThey rushed in here and took him away!a aBut how did they get in?a Hinkle persisted.

She stared at him, then drew in a deep breath.

aThrough the front door, of course.a aI locked and bolted the front door, madame, before retiring.a aYou must have forgotten,a Helga said impatiently.

aBefore retiring, madame,a Hinkle said quietly, aI locked and bolted the front door.a Helga looked at him, then nodded.

aI apologize. Iam worried out of my mind.a aThat is understandable. Nevertheless, these two men must have come in by way of the front door. Did Mr. Grenville leave you to go to the lobby toilet?a Helgaas eyes opened wide.

aYes, butaa aThen I suggest Mr. Grenville unlocked and unbolted the front door. There could be no one else.a aAre you daring to suggest that Mr. Grenville engineered his own kidnapping?a Helga shrilled.

aThese photographs are fakes, madame. Mr. Grenville was the only one here who could unlock the front door,a Hinkle said. aThe conclusion is obvious.a aNo! He loves me! He would never, never do such a thing!a Helga began to beat her fists together. aI wonat listen to you! I know you hate him, but I love him! I wonat listen to you!a aBefore leaving you with Mr. Archer, I took the liberty of turning on the tape recorder,a Hinkle said, unperturbed. aWe have a recording of the conversation between you and Mr. Archer. I have also the number of his car. I suggest, madame, we should now seek the help of the police.a aThe police? No! Chris is in the hands of the Mafia! They are threatening to cut off his ear unless I pay.a Jumping to her feet, she stared wildly at him. aWhat is money? I donat give a d.a.m.n as long as I get him back! Iall pay! Iam not listening to your insinuations! You are suggesting hateful things because you hate him! Keep out of this! I am going to get him back, no matter what it costs!a She ran from the room and into her bedroom, slamming the door.

For a long moment, Hinkle stood still, his face clouded, then he moved out onto the terrace. He stood by the terrace rail, staring out across the lake, his mind busy.

Archer eased his heavy body in the driving seat of the Mercedes as he drove through Ca.s.sarate and headed towards the lake road to Paradiso.

He was feeling relaxed and satisfied. He had certainly dug the knife into that b.i.t.c.h and had turned the blade. He chuckled. It was a pity he hadnat seen her reaction when she had looked at those photographs, but he could well imagine how she would have gone to pieces. To see her darling lover with blood on his face would utterly demoralize her. He was sure he would have no trouble with her. She would pay up.

A million dollars! he thought. In three daysa time, he would be able to buy himself as many suits as he wanted. He could go to the barber once a week instead of cutting his own hair. He could once again eat at the best restaurants; stay at the best hotels! She deserved no pity. She had given him none in the past. This was sweet revenge!

It had been a brilliant idea of his to let her imagine Grenville was in the hands of the Mafia. How Grenville would laugh. d.a.m.n it! They must celebrate. Then he frowned. Grenville must keep out of sight until the money was paid, but at least they could have a bottle of champagne. Archer nodded. Yes, he thought, splendid idea - an idea Grenville would appreciate.

After some difficulty, he found parking in Lugano, and went to the Inno store. There, he bought two bottles of good champagne, then selected a variety of hors d'oeuvres with several cheeses. They would have a little feast, while he told Grenville how clever he had been.

Carrying his purchases, he returned to the Mercedes and headed back to his rented villa. By now, he thought, Helga would be busy examining her list of stock holdings, trying to make up her mind which to sell. Whatever stock she did sell to make up two million dollars, she would be the loser. The Dow Jones index was flat on its back. Serve the b.i.t.c.h right! That was her funeral, and Archer laughed. He could imagine her driving her fancy Rolls to Bern to consult her banker, panic gnawing at her. Sweet revenge!

The four aces, he thought. I hold them all, and this time, she canat bluff her way out! I have her exactly where I want her!

He pulled up outside the rented villa, collected his purchases and hurried up the path. He opened the front door.

aChris! It worked!a he shouted.

Silence greeted him.

Frowning, he walked into the empty living-room, then into the bedroom, then into the second bedroom. There was no sign of Grenville. Suddenly uneasy, Archer looked into the kitchen, hurried to the bathroom and threw open the door to the toilet.

Grenville was not in the villa.

chapter seven.

Grenville had watched Archer drive away, then he had returned to the shabby little living-room and had sat down. He would probably have an hour to wait before Archer returned. He didnat envy Archer.

He had now learned that Helga could be all steel, but Archer had seemed very confident. Grenville had no doubts that she was madly in love with him. He just hoped that Archer would handle her carefully.

He was now satisfied that he could trust Archer. All the same, he told himself, he would keep close to Archer, once the money was paid. When such a sum was involved, one couldnat be too careful.

He lit a cigarette, as he followed in his mind Archeras progress through Ca.s.sarate and up to Castagnola. He looked at his watch. In another ten minutes, he thought, Archer would be arriving at Helgaas villa. It was a bore that they had to stay in this miserable little villa for three days, but he bowed to Archeras warning that he must not show himself on the streets. It would be a complete give-away if he were spotted. The Swiss police were busy-bodies, Archer had said, and they always looked twice at foreigners. He remembered the policeman who had threatened to give him a parking ticket. He frowned.

He had behaved stupidly. That policeman had his name and address and would recognize him again.

Thinking about the incident, Grenville shrugged his shoulders. It didnat matter, he told himself. In three daysa time, he would be at the Geneva airport, waiting to take-off for New York, then from New York, he would fly down to Miami, spend a couple of days there, and then on to the West Indies.

He wondered what Archer would do with his share of the money. Thinking about Archer, Grenville decided he wasnat a bad fellow, and, there was no doubt, he had brains. Given decent clothes, Grenville thought, and a respectable haircut, he could look quite impressive. Thank G.o.d, he told himself, that he had never got so financially low as Archer had. There had always been some stupid woman to finance him, but with a million dollars, he would be free of all that, and he would be independent!

A slight sound behind him made him look around.

Standing in the doorway was Segetti, and just behind him, Belmont. Startled, Grenville jumped to his feet.

aWhat are you two doing here?a he demanded sharply. aI thought you were on your way to Geneva.a aWe changed our minds,a Segetti said, and moved into the room. aDidnat we, Jacques?a Belmont didnat say anything. He leaned against the doorpost and stared bleakly at Grenville.

aSo what do you want?a These two looked unpleasantly menacing and Grenville had a presentiment of danger. He moved away from the armchair in which he had been sitting.

aWhat do we want?a Segetti smiled. aWe want you, Mr. Grenville.a aWhat do you mean?a Grenvilleas heart began to thump.

aYou understand English? We want you to come with us.a aThatas the last thing Iall do,a Grenville bl.u.s.tered. aNow stop this nonsense. You have been well paid. Get out!a aThis time, Mr. Grenville, it wonat be tomato ketchup, it will be for real,a and Segetti produced a vicious-looking Luger automatic, fitted with a silencer. He pointed the gun at Grenville.

Grenville felt a rush of cold blood up his spine. Never before in his life had anyone threatened him with a gun. The sight of that evil-looking little hole in the silencer directed at him, brought him out in a sweat of fear.

aDonat point that thing at me!a he quavered. aDonat - donat shoot!a aCome along, Mr. Grenville,a Segetti said. aWe are going for a little drive. You will sit in the front seat. I shall be in the back seat. If you attempt to do anything foolish, you will get a silent bullet through your spine.a He smiled. aI donat make idle threats. Letas go.a Shaken, his mouth dry, sweat on his face, Grenville followed Belmont down the path to the parked VW. Segetti, pointing the gun at him, slid into the back seat, motioning Grenville to get in the front seat.

Belmont slid under the driving wheel.

aWhere are you taking me?a Grenville asked huskily. aWhat do you want with me?a aJust keep your trap shut, Mr. Grenville, and youall be fine.a They drove along the lake road, pa.s.sed a policeman who was directing a pedestrian, asking the way, and Grenville looked longingly at the policeman, but Segetti said softly, aNo foolish ideas, Mr. Grenville.a Entering the Piazza Grande, they turned up a side street, and Belmont pulled up.

aBe careful how you get out, Mr. Grenville,a Segetti said, aI am a very good shot.a For a moment, Grenville, who was now in a panic, asked himself whether, as soon as he was out of the car, he should make a dash to escape, but the street was deserted, and he hadnat the nerve. He got out, followed by Segetti.

Belmont pushed open a high wooden gate and jerked his head at Grenville, who followed him through the gateway into the untidy yard. Segetti followed.

Ahead of him, Grenville saw a big building, like a barn, and he followed Belmont into the semi-darkness of the place which smelt strongly of cheeses, olive oil and anchovies. Belmont climbed steep stairs. Segetti prodded Grenville up the stairs and into a big room in which stood a bed, a table, several battered armchairs and a radio. Sitting in one of the chairs was Bernie.

aAh, Mr. Grenville,a he said, getting to his feet. aWe havenat met before, but we have a mutual friend - Mr. Archer.a Grenville regarded this short, squat, bearded Italian the way he would have regarded a big, hairy-legged spider that had dropped into his bath. In spite of Bernieas smile, his small eyes, like two sea-washed pebbles, chilled Grenville.

aYou know Archer?a Grenvilleas voice was husky.

aOf course. Come in, Mr. Grenville, and sit down. I want to talk to you.a Moving shakily, Grenville sank into an armchair, aware that Segetti was just behind him, and Belmont was leaning against the door.

aI donat understand,a Grenville said. aWhat do you want with me?a aLet me explain,a Bernie said, resuming his chair. aMr. Archer came to me, saying he wanted to hire two reliable men for a faked kidnapping. Mr. Archer explained the kidnapping was a joke, and, frankly Mr. Grenville, I didnat believe this. It seemed to me that his offer to me of five hundred francs to find two men, and his offer to pay these two men eight thousand francs for a job that could get us all into police trouble was inadequate.a He smiled. aNow I discover that he and you intend to get two million dollars from this woman, so naturally, since, without my help, this kidnapping couldnat have been accomplished, I feel our share should be considerably increased.a aYou should have discussed this with Archer,a Grenville said, trying to steady his voice. aWhy bring me here by force?a aThat is a good point,a Bernie said. aWhy bring you here by force? Because you have now been kidnapped, and this kidnapping is no fake.a Grenville drew in a sharp breath.

aI still donat understand,a he managed to say.

aMr. Grenville, you and Mr. Archer are amateurs. Here you have a situation involving a woman worth about eighty million dollars. You have said that you have a harpoon in her.a Bernie looked at Belmont.

aThat was what he said, Jacques?a Belmont nodded.

aSo,a Bernie lifted his hands aThe woman is obviously besotted with you. Accept my congratulations, but when a woman is worth some eighty million dollars, no one, but an amateur, would ask two million to get her stud back. Do you see my point?a Grenville ran his tongue over his dry lips.

aShe - sheas difficult,a he said huskily. aI think two million is enough.a aBut then you and Mr. Archer are amateurs. From now on, Mr. Grenville, I intend to handle this affair. Only the other week, an industrialist was kidnapped in Rome by a good friend of mine, and the ransom demand was seven million dollars, and this industrialist wasnat nearly as rich as this woman, and yet to save his skin, he paid up.a Bernie leaned forward, pointing a stubby finger at Grenville. aI will ask ten million dollars for your return, Mr. Grenville. For your cooperation, I will give you five hundred thousand dollars, and I will give Mr. Archer the same amount.a Grenville stared at him.

aCooperation? What does that mean?a aYou might be asked to lose an ear or a finger, Mr. Grenville, but for five hundred thousand dollars, that isnat much to ask.a Grenvilleas face expressed horror.

aYou canat do that to me!a aMr. Grenville, you havenat as yet realized you have been kidnapped, and this time, it is no fake. Jacques can slice off your ear and heal the wound with a hot iron without any trouble. He can also remove one of your fingers without you suffering too much. That is no problem, and from what I hear about your relations with this woman, she will pay.a Grenville felt faint. He leaned back in the chair, sweat running down his face.

Bernie got to his feet.

aI am now going to talk to Mr. Archer. I shall want him to act as my go-between. It is safer that way. Just relax, Mr. Grenville. It is very possible you wonat lose an ear or a finger. Max and Jacques will look after you.a He turned to Segetti. aIn half an hour, Max, as we arranged,a and leaving Grenville, shuddering, his face in his hands, Bernie left the room.

Helga paced up and down in her bedroom. She was distraught. Chris! Kidnapped! In the hands of Mafia thugs! All she could think of was to get him back unharmed. What he must be suffering! She must get the money as quickly as possible! There must be no hitch! When that swine Archer came, she must have the money ready to give him!

She would drive to Bern immediately and see her Swiss banker. He must arrange to have the money transferred to the Mafia immediately!

Then realizing she was in an utter panic, she pulled herself together, and some of her steel a.s.serted itself. She sat down, her fists clenched between her knees.

Hinkle!

He had actually dared to insinuate that Chris had engineered his own kidnapping! Hinkle was a jealous old fool! The moment she had told him she was in love with Chris, he hadnat been able to conceal his disapproval. When she had told him that she and Chris were going to be married, his congratulations and best wishes had been sour, and she knew why: he hated the idea of having a master again as well as a mistress. He was so G.o.dd.a.m.n selfish he didnat want her to be happy, because it didnat suit him! He wanted her to live her lonely, loverless life, so he could fuss over her, providing her with his G.o.dd.a.m.n omelettes, while she ached and ached for a lover like Chris!

Tomato ketchup!

That had been a vicious lie! She was sure Grenville had been struck down! Hadnat that swine Archer said that Grenville had tried to be brave? She could imagine Chris in the hands of those thugs. He could have found an opportunity to attack them. Yes! She could imagine him - her splendid Chris - making a fight of it. She shuddered, thinking again of those pictures, showing him lying on the floor, blood on his face.

Tomato ketchup!